PEOPLE & FOLKS

What You Don't Know About Springfield Gangs

Near the road, in front of a dark house, a wooden cross marks the spot
where the last young man died. The floodlight hits it. Dried flowers lay
next to an orange traffic cone that marks the crime scene. "His older
brother was killed before him," says officer Chris Russell of the
Springfield Police Department's Gang Enforcement Unit. "His mother still
won't accept the idea that they were involved in gangs."

It's a Saturday night early in June, the temperatures, after a spell of
cold and rain, have turned warm. I am sitting in the back of an unmarked
police car, riding through a residential neighborhood on the east side of
Springfield.

"The thing that most people don't understand," Sergeant Todd Taylor, who
has been with the Springfield Police Department's Gang Enforcement Unit for
five years, had told me earlier, "is that gangs are all over. Street gangs
aren't just an east side black problem. They aren't limited to one culture
or one side of town."

As we cruise through the streets, I look at homes, dark in the early
morning hours. I think about people with children or the elderly trying to
sleep. There's no rest for the residents of these homes. The sidewalks and
streets are alive with young people. They stand on the corners calling to
each other; they congregate in front yards, or drive up and down the narrow
streets hanging out the sunroofs or windows of cars. I hear the residents'
calls over the police radio: "Fourteenth and Laurel -- several subjects, a
disturbance;" "a group on the street corner, loud and arguing;" "a
disturbance at G&E Liquor;" "shots fired at the Family Dollar on Cook Street."

The Playpen

What Sergeant Taylor failed to mention, what I learned as gang enforcement
Officers Russell and Brian Graves pointed out one gang member after the
next, telling me their affiliation, was that groups of young people, many
of them gangsters from Jacksonville or who own their own their own homes on
the west side of town, converge on Springfield's east side on Saturday
nights and turn the quiet streets into a noisy, scary playpen.

Over the course of the evening I would see two accidents, three arrests,
and a car chase (the guy who took off when the police tried to stop him had
over thirty arrests but just a single conviction). At the end of the
evening, between three and four in the morning, in the crowded mess of
traffic following the closing of an eastside nightspot, we saw roughly
eight people with outstanding warrants in the cars that circled the
blocks. But, to make an arrest at that time would take a much-needed squad
car off the streets. After the closing of Mac's Lounge, patrons get in
their cars and circle the residential streets, driving from Cook to South
Grand and back again. The traffic inches along bumper to bumper. People
hang out of cars, congregate in the parking lots of closed businesses
buying and selling their drugs, and firing weapons. At one point we pull
into the lot of G&E Liquor on South Grand. From a short distance the lot
looks like that old Goldie Hawn movie Sugar Land Express. The flashing
police car lights light up the parking lot and surrounding streets. County
and city police are both on the scene; all that energy and taxpayer's
money, just to keep a lid on this weekly Saturday night situation.

Around midnight Officer Russell points out a house with several people in
the front yard. "Several Gangster Disciples live here and hang out there
and across the street."

We pull up to a corner where the K-9 unit has three men stopped.

"Hey, Andrew," Officer Russell calls out to a man who is about as loaded as
a person can get and still walk upright. "That dog is a Vice Lord."

Andrew flails his arms playfully at the K-9 Unit dog.

"Did you see him represent?" Officer Russell asks me. "Andrew is a
Gangster Disciple."

I was watching, but hadn't seen anything. Hand signals, colors of
clothing, tattoos, and hats turned to the left or right are some ways that
gangsters "represent" their affiliations. Most of the rest of us don't see
these things. We tend to think that graffiti is done by "wannabes." We
think that kids in athletic clothing are simply supporting their
teams. Gang colors are precious to their members. Sometimes innocent
bystanders are mistaken for rival gang members because of the color of the
clothes they're wearing.

The K-9 dog watches Andrew's drunken behavior stoically. They both know
the boundaries.

Officer Graves says, "Boy, Andrew is going to get in some kind of trouble
tonight."

Boyz In The Hood

Springfield Gangster differ from those in larger urban areas. In central
Illinois gangs are not as territorial as they are in Chicago or St.
Louis. We don't have turf wars -- People and Folks co-exist. Most of our
gang killings are about drug deals gone bad. "It's not uncommon to find
three gang members from three different gangs in the same car," claimed
Sergeant Taylor.

"If a Gangster Disciple needs drugs to sell and a Vice Lord has them, he
might hang with the Vice Lord for the day," Taylor said. In other words,
for good or bad, our gangsters get along -- with each other, anyway.

Over a year ago I completed the Springfield Police Department's Citizens
Police Academy. I still remember vividly the most frightening
presentation; it came from the Gang Enforcement Unit. I thought
Springfield didn't have gangs. Most of the people I know think we don't
have gangs. Okay, maybe some wannabes, but not real gangs. I had seen
some graffiti and read about the JAGUAR drug busts back in the late nineties.

If there had been gangs in Springfield, they were gone, right? I had a
sinking feeling that evening in class as the officers talked about their
jobs and their reasons for doing them, told us what a typical shift was
like and passed around hundreds of color pictures of graffiti, crime
scenes, tattoos, and gangsters. I had seen Boyz in the Hood. Was that
going on here?

Over the course of the past year I paid attention to the local media. I
must admit I often had to read between the lines. I decided I wanted to
write an article where the truth wasn't hidden in the subtext. I wanted to
talk to someone close to the problem and that's why I contacted Commander
Mitzi Vasconcilles who runs the Citizen's Police Academy and asked her to
help me get in touch with the Gang Enforcement Unit again. After an
interview with the leader, Sergeant Todd Taylor, Officers Brian Graves and
Chris Russell took me on a four-hour long ride along, provided photos of
graffiti and tattoos and introduced me to some gang members.

Halfway through the evening I found myself sitting in an unmarked car,
talking to a good-looking seventeen-year old boy, who was being
arrested. At first he wasn't very forthcoming. I asked questions about
who he was and what his life was and had been like.

He spoke in a soft, even tone. He claimed to have a three-month old
daughter. He said he was the oldest of four children (with two younger
brothers and a sister); he was still living at home with his mom. "My
mother is my dad. My real dad ran off when I was two years old." He
remembers a twenty-three-year old uncle who was killed by a fifteen-year
old boy on a bike. "Shot for no apparent reason." Another uncle died in
prison at the hands of guards. A close friend had shot and killed himself
playing Russian roulette. "I was standing right there."

Earlier, a twenty-three year old, when asked how he got involved with gangs
had said, "I was born to it." He claimed his first active involvement took
place when he was eight-years old.

People And Folks

The Springfield Police Department's Gang Unit was formed in 1994 and
consists of four officers and a Sergeant. The unit provides crime analysis
information, training, enforcement, deterrence, referral, investigations,
and community relation services.

While the unit has identified members from thirty-two gangs in the city of
Springfield at one time or another, it typically deals with seven: The
Simon City Royals, Gangster Disciples, New Breed Disciples, and Maniac
Latin Disciples are from the Folks Nation; the Vice Lords, Black P Stones,
and Latin Kings are from the People Nation.

In addition, sometimes small pocket gangs form as a spinoff of the larger
gangs but are something entirely local such as the Boss Players, Family
Mob, or the Eight-ball Posse. Gangster Disciples, Vice Lords and Black P
Stones are predominantly African-American groups. The Latin Kings and
Maniac Disciples are mixed races. And Simon City Royals and various
supremacist groups are white. Youth street gang members generally range in
age from thirteen to twenty-one years old, but children as young as nine
years old have been documented.

"People" and "Folks" are to Illinois what the "Crips" and "Bloods" are to
Los Angeles. The formation of the People and Folks Nations began within
the Illinois prison system when the mostly white Simon City Royals agreed
to provide drugs to inmates who belonged to the Black Disciples in exchange
for protection; this group came to be called Folks, represented in graffiti
by a six-pointed star. The People Nation identifies itself with the
five-pointed star.

Gangsters sell drugs and carry weapons. Most of their arrests records
reflect that. Reyundo Sanchez, in his current memoir, My Bloody Life: the
Making of a Latin King, claims that, "The gang problem has become a
billion-dollar revolving door for justice systems across the country." As
with the guy who eluded us in the Mini-van, who had numerous arrest
warrants and only a single conviction, the gangster's life of crime is
costly for tax payers as they parade in and out of our local criminal
justice systems. Sanchez also claims that "Gangs are drug empires run by
adults who are very rarely seen, adults who get rich while kids get shot on
street corners. Some gangs get orders directly from penitentiary leaders."

Hiding Places And Warrants

The local gang unit is the first to tell you that gangsters don't break
into homes or stick up gas stations. They seldom bother the general
population. Crime in the community increases due to the drug
culture. Someone with a crack habit will not be able to hold down a job,
and if they can, few jobs pay enough to support his or her habit. Cocaine
addicts tend to be aggressive in crime; they hurt people.

Female street gang members represent about ten percent of the gang
population, but they are starting to increase in numbers. Female members
provide male gangsters with sex; they carry guns or drugs (as most police
officers are male -- they can't readily search a female) and provide
transportation. Sergeant Taylor told me that many gangsters have a
suspended driver's license. While drunks may choose to drive on a
suspended license, a gangster usually won't.

Back in 1992 the rumor spread locally that a gang initiation consisted of
the rape or stabbing of a woman. The Springfield Police Department was
never able to confirm this rumor. Most generally, most gang members are
initiated with a beating. A "full body" beating is used for discipline
purposes. An initiation beating consists of about three minutes of hard
punches to major muscle groups from two or more gang members.

Street gangs didn't just migrate to Springfield the way Americans moved
westward across the country. They moved here from Chicago or East St.
Louis. For example, several years ago the Chicago Gangster Disciples
"branched out." After a couple of shootings as the Springfield Disciples
tried to protect their territory, Chicago sent Eric "Poppa" Powell, his
mother, brother, and girlfriend to Springfield to run their Central
Illinois drug operation.

Powell set up operations in the 1900 block of East Jackson Street in the
mid 1990s and was called the governor of Springfield. He was brought down
during the arrests connected with Operation JAGUAR, a multi agency
crackdown on gangs and gang-related activity in Springfield. JAGUAR not
only arrested high level gangsters, but also got contvictions, leaving
street gangs temporarily in disarray as to who was running the show.

The gang enforcement officers attend a workshop and are educated in the
latest gang and criminal trends. Officer Russell told me that in the
summer they ride bikes through Springfield's gang "hot spots." He likes
the way the bicycle makes him feel closer to the residents in the
neighborhoods as well the way he can sit between houses and watch what is
going on for a long time before the gangsters see him.

"The first thing when we come in," Officer Graves said, "we check the new
warrants. We know most of these guys. We know who their girlfriends are
and where they live. So, we start working on the warrants."

As we ride through the streets I notice that the police department has a
strong presence in this eastside neighborhood. Several times we pass other
police cars as well as a second unmarked gang enforcement car. I watch the
officers, time after time, pull a car over, check IDs of passengers as well
as drivers, or walk up to a group standing on a corner or in a front yard
and do the same. They often make arrests -- usually for outstanding warrants.

That's how we ended up in a chase.

We pulled over a Dodge Silhouette. The vehicle stopped, tapped the brake a
couple of times (as if the driver was thinking it over) and then took
off. We pursued him at high speeds for several blocks, until the mini-van
nearly broadsided a car at a cross street. Then we stopped.

The police do not chase someone driving recklessly because innocent
bystanders could get hurt. Unfortunately, criminals take advantage of
this. But Officer Graves knew who the driver of the van was, and Officer
Russell knew where the driver's sister lived on a nearby street. We
checked the sister's house with no luck. On his break time, Officer Graves
wrote up a request for a warrant.

Passing Signs

Governor Jim Edgar, in 1996, formed a thirty-five member commission to
study the growing epidemic of criminal street gangs. The commission
discovered quickly that gang violence and narcotics trafficking were on the
rise and that gangs had moved out of the larger urban areas to smaller
cities and rural areas at an alarming rate. Among several recommendations
the commission made were truancy reduction outreach programs,
mentoring/tutoring programs, and a juvenile boot camp. (A truancy
reduction program in District 186 has actually been closed recently).

The belief that there are no gangs is common enough. One thing that leads
to societal denial that gangs are present and thriving is the lack of media
coverage. In 1996, according to the Reed Nexus database, there was an
all-time high for stories on gang crimes. Since then, newspapers have
written fewer and fewer stories on gang crime.

Today, reported gang-related crimes have decreased, while gangs
thrive. Sergeant Taylor says the drop in reported gang-related crimes is
due to enhanced penalties for crimes associated with gangs. "We used to
pick them up and they were proud of their gangs. Because of the enhanced
penalty these days they don't identify their affiliations." So while crime
is still rampant it's harder to prosecute a crime as "gang-related."

Children, typically males, get involved with gangs usually between the ages
of eight and twelve-years old. The average high-risk youth is lonely with
poor self-esteem. He comes from a home where his brothers, uncles, or
father have been involved in gangs -- or from single parent families where
his mother is working two jobs to make ends meet or is strung out on drugs
and unavailable. The gang represents family, attention, even love. Being
a gang member gives him a role to play, friends, and a lifestyle he
understands. Youngsters that age are used for lookouts. If caught
committing a crime or selling drugs, the juvenile court system is more lenient.

Many high-risk youngsters are exposed to shootings or violence at an early
age -- not just violence on television or video games. Children who live
in areas where street gangs are prevalent are often lost to society by the
time they are eight years old. For one reason or another boys often have
no positive male role model in their lives. There's no one to show these
kids how to be an adult. All the adult men they know are in prison or dead.

The thing that surprised me the most was that these young people completely
lacked any kind of hope or dream for the future. Even the boy with the
three-month old daughter gave me a blank stare when I asked if he had goals
or plans for the future.

A few weeks after the ride with the gang enforcement unit, I turned onto a
side street near my home on the north end. Five or six little boys,
probably seven or eight years old, were playing on the street with
scooters. When they saw my truck all but one of them moved to the side of
the road to let me pass. One little boy stood in the street forcing me to
pull around him and he held up his hand, his little fingers representing
the sign of the Gangster Disciples.

Sergeant Taylor doesn't think that we'll ever be completely rid of street
gangs, not as long as there are drugs to sell and money to be made. Maybe
the best thing that concerned citizens can do is to stop the recruiting,
and subsequent ravaging, of the lives of Springfield's young
people. Somehow our community has to make a happy, productive, and modest
life look better to our young people that the big money, fast-cars, guns,
and excitement of selling drugs for a youth street gang. We have to give
them the love and sense of belonging and power that they find in the gangs
before we become just another gang infested community, looking to our
officials to rescue us from our own children.

Martha Miller was the winner of the Friends of Lincoln Library writer of
the year award in 1995 for her novel Tales From the Levee, historical
fiction about Springfield. She won an Illinois Arts Council award in 1997
for her writing. She's written and had several plays produced with
Mid-America Playwrights Theatre. Skin to Skin, a book of short fiction,
was published in 1997 and her mystery Nine Nights on the Windy Tree came
out in October 2000. She is a frequent contributor to the Illinois Times.