Jobless, short on hope and options, grimly press on in desolate economy

Steve Wanless was hunched over one of the 22 computer screens at the Minnesota WorkForce Center in St. Paul Wednesday, tapping away on the keyboard in what has become an unceasing hunt for a job. As if he needed more anxiety, a poster above his head asked, "Where Will You Sleep Tonight?"

"At least I have that one covered for tonight," said Wanless, who gets free rent for working as the building supervisor. "If I didn't have that, I'd be out under a bridge or sleeping in a cardboard box. I've lost just about everything."

Wanless, 54, was just one of about 200 people who dropped in at the job center at Fairview and University Avenues in St. Paul yesterday, which, in turn, is just one of 53 in the state where people can get job counseling, polish their résumés and look for work online. Job hunting is a growth industry -- maybe the last we've got left. "We're getting a lot of new faces in here," said Don Doerfler, who has worked with the center for 39 years and knows the ropes pretty well. "In the fall, it was mostly blue-collar workers coming in, but now we have white-collar workers, administrative types, some IT people, some contractors. ... We've had to put in a one-hour time limit and start enforcing the rules about food and cell phones. There's just too many people."

A palpable desperation

We are not talking about the chronically unemployed now. We are talking about people who want jobs, need jobs and had jobs -- until recently. People trying to hold onto what they have, and keep together the lives they have built, while searching for work in the teeth of an economic gale that is blowing jobs away by the thousands every day:

• A 33-year-old man who has been searching online for two months finds "the same stuff, day after day. It can be pretty discouraging."

• A 29-year-old Somali refugee named Ubah Ali, who lost a good job at a photography studio that went out of business in December, is getting buried under monthly bills and a $4,000 school loan she has due. "I have to find a job because I have to pay those bills," she said, frustration in her voice. "Something has to be open somewhere. A door has to open. Otherwise, I don't know what to do. And it is getting worse."

But nurses are being laid off too, I said. "I know," she replied. "Nightmare on Elm Street."

The WorkForce Center in St. Paul gamely offers classes based on "What Color is Your Parachute?" the career-changing guide first published almost 40 years ago, which is updated every year and offers thoughtful advice for job-seekers. But it's still tough going. "We're still at the front end of this recession," said Doerfler. "We're not seeing much success. It can be a long search."

Wanless has been coming into the center three days a week for three months. His last job, as a document delivery driver for an insurance agent, ended when the agent retired in November. That job paid $10 an hour. Wanless used to be a warehouse manager, making $40 grand a year. He had that job for a decade until the company was "restructured" and he was out. In between that and the insurance delivery gig, he worked a variety of jobs, none of which paid much or lasted long.

"I can't keep anything going," he says, still tapping at the keyboard. "I've been bouncing and bouncing. And I lost a lot of stuff along the way -- cars, bankruptcy, everything. It's not pretty. This Christmas, I couldn't even find a job at one of the discount stores. They weren't hiring because of the ... whatever it is that we're in. They call it a recession but it's way worse, to me. So I hang out here a lot. But there's nothing out there, just nothing. I got no medical. I'm just looking to make $9 or $10 an hour. I'll never make the kind of money I used to make. It's really depressing."

"That's what it is. It's a Depression."