HOPE ON HORIZON FOR CRACK COCAINE FIGHTERS

New Law Tackles Neighbourhood Scourge

OFF and on during the course of the day there's a guy standing at the
corner of Young Street and Sargent Avenue doing business.

He's not hard to miss. He never stands still.

Sometimes he's alone. Sometimes other guys hang out with him. They fidget a
lot. They chat on cell phones. They come and go. Other guys pull up on
bicycles or cars and they talk for a couple of minutes before driving away.

The hookers come and go, too. Short skirts, high heels and glassy-eyed
thousand-yard stares.

"Look at that guy," a Sargent Avenue businessman says. "Tell me he's not a
dealer. He's there all the time. Everybody knows what he's doing."

Down Young Street towards the University of Winnipeg, neighbours in
well-kept houses say there are a couple of crack rooms in some dilapidated
apartment blocks. They're open all day but get busier at night.

Everybody knows what's going on. So far nobody has done a thing.

"What's so demoralizing is that it's so blatant," Rev. Harry Lehotsky says.
"It's so open. And it doesn't take a lot of this stuff to create havoc in a
neighbourhood."

Lehotsky, an inner-city activist with New Life Ministry, has watched crack
take over the neighbourhood, and seen the damage it spreads. He doesn't
mind speaking out about it, even though one dealer recently threatened his
life.

Because crack is so cheap -- $40 for a few rocks -- it's accessible to
younger users. And because crack is so addictive, users end up turning to
hooking or theft to pay for the drug.

"What it's done is intensify everything," he says. "It's nasty stuff."

Lehotsky says police know full well what's going on, but are stymied by a
lack of resources and a lax justice system. The police will round up a
bunch of crack dealers one minute and they're out on bail the next, and
back at work.

"The judges should have to live next door to one of these places," he says.
"Then they might start taking it seriously."

Vice Insp. Stan Tataryn says it's a big job taking out a crack house. To
mount a raid, you've got to get a warrant. And to get a warrant, you need
good proof to convince a magistrate or judge to sign it off -- not an easy
job. And should police get a warrant and go in to bust down the door, every
crack head inside is busy flushing and swallowing.

And many dealers have figured out they can't get caught for dealing if they
have no drugs on them. So they use couriers, like hookers, to deliver
product, or use drops. For example, a guy will buy some crack and be told
to pick it up inside the rear bumper of that car parked over there.

The other problem is informants. With the Hells Angels now in town, it's
getting tougher for police to gather evidence or witness statements to hand
over to a prosecutor.

There are reports of bikers and their cohorts beating people with baseball
bats -- smashing their hands over the hood of car -- to collect drug debts.
Police know about these shakedowns, but have come up against a stone wall
to get someone to testify in court against the Hells Angels. Fear,
justified or not, is still fear.

But Lehotsky and Tataryn see some hope on the horizon to cure part of the
crack problem. It's called the Safer Communities and Neighbourhoods Act,
proclaimed by the NDP last spring.

When it becomes law sometime this fall, it will allow residents to file a
complaint about a crack house or booze can with a director of public
safety, who could issue a warning letter to the owner of the home in
question. In more severe cases, a Court of Queen's Bench judge could order
the property vacated, say for 90 days, hitting the landlord in the wallet.

Former Winnipeg police Sgt. Al Cameron, who helped set up the gang unit
before retiring in 1998, has been hired by the province to put the new law
into motion.

Lehotsky and Tataryn say the law will provide some relief to inner-city
residents, but it won't get rid of crack.

Like when you shine a light on a cockroach, it'll just scuttle somewhere else.