CRACKDOWN TAKING BACK THE STREET

Open Drug Use

Street disorder is now the norm on the Downtown Eastside, but police
are committed to taking 'the territory back'.

Vancouver police announced a crackdown in February on anyone caught
using drugs in public view. Reporter Gerry Bellett and photographer
Ian Smith hit the streets to watch officers enforce the new
zero-tolerance policy and follow one crack addict from his arrest on
Hastings to judgment day in a provincial courtroom.

There's no doubt that Shane Aitken and his partner Greg Paxton care
about the state of the neighbourhood and its 18,000 residents, for
whom the broken, disordered and impossible Downtown Eastside is as
much a prison as it is a home.

Poverty, addiction, mental illness, disabilities of spirit and body
and all their various combinations sentence many to live in this
small, notorious, few square blocks of Vancouver.

It's Monday morning and as the city begins another work week, these
two Vancouver police officers are out on the beat pushing against what
is inevitably spilling on to the street from all the suffering.

"For a while there we were losing," says Aitken, badge 1908, a member
of the Citywide Enforcement Team (Squad Three) that polices this part
of the city.

"Now I think we're getting it back. . . ."

"Hey, Paxton arrest her," he points to a woman walking toward them
outside the Carnegie Centre at Main and Hastings. "She's got four
outstanding warrants."

There's nothing but apathy from the woman as the cuffs snap shut, and
within seconds syringes are tumbling from her pockets along with a
length of surgical hose used as a tourniquet to help find veins, and a
crack pipe -- still warm.

"Yeah, so over the last few years street disorder has crept in. We
need to take the territory back and that's what we're doing," says
Aitken.

What police lost was the ability to prevent the pornography of addicts
shooting up in full public view or smoking crack cocaine in their
trademark glass pipes where and as they liked.

"Right here this morning there's a guy hooting on a crack pipe right
in front of buses filled with people going to work, and kids. And if
that wasn't bad enough he's doing it right in front of a parked police
car," fumes Aitken.

Street disorder has turned this part of the city into a trash bin of
discarded needles and condoms, detritus from the commodities of sex
and drugs upon which the area's economy depends.

Insp. Bob Rolls, who has operational command of the area, has told
these officers to crack down on addicts smoking or injecting drugs in
public view -- something that had become so routine in the Downtown
Eastside it was no longer an amazement except to tourists.

The slide began some years ago when officers stopped arresting people
for simple drug possession because federal prosecutors refused to
process minor charges. As a result the police targeted the ethnic
groups distributing drugs in the area, taking on the likes of the
Hondurans and Persians while leaving their customers alone. In the
face of official apathy the customers began shooting up in public.

But now Rolls has convinced the Crown it should lay charges because
open drug use on city streets was becoming ingrained, frightening to
the public, and affecting the surviving Downtown Eastside businesses
who find their customer base dwindling.

"We've seen guys shooting up within feet of the safe injection site
and we've asked them to get off the street and go inside and had them
tell us no," says Aitken.

The officers who patrol the area couldn't effectively do their job if
they were anal retentive about city bylaws or practised what Aitken
regards as '50s-style policing.

"We can't do everything by the book. I mean look at this guy. 'Hey,
get off the sidewalk,' " he tells a cyclist dodging between
pedestrians on Hastings.

Without getting picky he could have slapped the cyclist with a ticket
for not riding on the road, not wearing a helmet or failing to have a
reflector on the back of his bike, daylight or not.

But it's the plight of the mentally ill that concerns
him.

"If only we had a system that could protect the mentally ill so they
are not down here being victimized and abused," says Aitken. "They're
so vulnerable. They come here looking for friendship, or community,
but get exploited and turned into addicts.

"Although," he says pulling himself up, "you have to balance all their
needs -- which are many -- with all the needs of the law-abiding
community who themselves are trying to work hard and make it though
the day."

It's maintaining this equilibrium that makes the officers' daily
rounds through the alleys and streets such an intriguing exercise in
human relations.

"Most the problems associated with drug use would be instantly cleaned
up if the government would build new mental-health facilities and get
people the help they need," says Aitken. "I'm not talking about old
Riverview-style places but modern facilities. The vast majority of the
drug population here had pre-existing mental-health problems.

"But the government shut down facilities and gave these people
long-term disability pensions but the only place they can afford to
live is here, and here they end up being victimized because they can't
make rational, healthy decisions.

"They get victimized by violent criminals and drug pushers and to add
to their problems they become addicted. It's a vicious circle, it's
frustrating and it's a nightmare.

"As a responsible society there's no way morally or ethically we
should let them be on the streets because all they do is harm
themselves and eventually end up harming others. It beats me how
anyone can argue it's in their best interests and civil rights to be
down here becoming drug-addicted, raped and abused."

It's a monologue that ends when the officers turn into the alley
behind the Carnegie and spot a woman leaning against the wall who
becomes flustered and fumbles as she tries to hide a crack pipe in a
shirt pocket. Confronted, she empties her pockets and out comes the
crack pipe, a small quantity of drugs, and a few personal
possessions.

Aitken is calling in her description and name through the mike
attached to his shoulder.

She's wearing a hospital identity bracelet and he asks how long she
has been discharged. She doesn't seem to know. Her arm still shows a
fresh puncture wound from an intravenous line.

"Here's a classic example. She's a psychiatric patient with a
mental-health disability doing crack in the lane. Look, me and my
partner are going to cut you a break. Just get out of the lane -- it's
dangerous -- you'll get the crap beat out of you if you stay here."

They cross Hastings and find the morning's street market set up. This
is another of their running battles. Unchecked the vendors, who seem
to be selling nothing but junk, will overrun the pavement and the
police have been enforcing the vending bylaw to shoo them away.

It's been a game of cat and mouse because the vendors would gather
near a parking lot and as soon as the police arrive would grab their
stuff and retreat to the lot claiming sanctuary on private property.
This lasted until the police figured out the parking lot was city
property and convinced city hall to erect a fence.

Since it went up it's been constantly attacked, with pieces ripped off
and sold to scrap dealers.

"It's a battle of wills right now, but we want to bring back
cleanliness to the area," says Paxton.

As they pass the north lane behind Hastings two men in the alley --
one on a crutch -- suddenly part.

"That one there just threw down a pipe," says Paxton as they order him
to stop.

He's searched and a small quantity of crack cocaine is found in a
phial.

He gives his name as Charles John Carty. His companion -- his lookout
who failed his brief -- is now hobbling to safety down the alley on
his crutch.

Aitken calls in Carty's description and name to see if he's is wanted
on any warrants.

Nothing is outstanding so Aitken starts to lecture him on using drugs
in public and how the police were cracking down.

Carty nods and says he knows.

"You mean you know and you did it anyway?"

"Yeah, I hope you're gonna give me a break?"

A pair of notebooks are suddenly produced and a call is made for a
police wagon.

"'Fraid not. You're under arrest."

Within minutes the wagon arrives and after being handcuffed and
electronically frisked Carty is placed inside.

"He'll go to the city jail, he'll be finger-printed and photographed
and hopefully he'll learn from this. We were going to cut him loose
but not after what he admitted. I mean this guy doesn't have any
mental-health problems, he sees us, drops his pipe and tries to walk
away," says Aitken.

Carty is in jail overnight. The meat sandwiches he's given compare
favourably with the peanut butter he remembers from a previous visit.

When released he's told to appear in Vancouver Provincial Court,
courtroom 100, and over the next few weeks appears there twice while
the justice of the peace grants time for him to find a lawyer.

On April 5 -- more than five weeks after being arrested -- Carty finds
himself pleading guilty before Judge Ray Low in courtroom 101.

He's apprehensive because he appeared in front of Low once before on a
similar charge and was hit with a $750 fine. Today Carty hasn't got
the cash to pay anything like that and believes he's facing jail.

His morale isn't improved as he watches an exasperated Low dealing
with a bunch of difficult in-custody prisoners who seem determined to
thwart Low's best efforts to ensure they are properly represented or
seen by a psychiatrist -- as in the case of the pleasantly grinning
suspect arrested for plaguing the 911 service with calls about the CIA
- -- to determine if they're fit to stand trial.

Then Carty is called. The agent for the Crown, Paula Grahame, tells
Low that Carty intends to plead guilty.

Carty's shoulders slump when Low asks Grahame to outline the maximum
penalty for simple possession, which is six months in jail or a $1,000
fine with everything doubled for a second offence -- "and do you
understand that sir? and would you like to talk to a lawyer?"

No, says a crestfallen Carty, he'll plead guilty.

Grahame delves into Aitken's report and reads out the particulars ". .
. found in the Unit block Hastings, smoking rock cocaine . . .
discards pipe . . . blows out large cloud of smoke . . . small
quantity of rock cocaine found in an outside pocket . . ."

"There's also a record your honour with a related conviction but it's
quite dated."

"What is the Crown seeking, a fine or community work?" asks
Low.

"He was arrested and held overnight in jail so the Crown says he's
served two days," says Grahame.

"Okay. Sir, I'm taking into account your time in jail and the fact you
pled guilty. You seem to have an addiction to crack cocaine and I wish
you luck in dealing with it and getting treatment, but Vancouver
police have announced they have a no-tolerance policy for people doing
drugs on the street."

"They've been pretty tolerant," admits Carty.

The judge responds: "If you insist on using crack cocaine you would be
advised to be more discreet and not use it in public. I sentence you
to time served."

Outside the court Carty can't believe his luck.

"I'm just glad he didn't recognize me. Last time it was $750 fine or
three months for having a flap of cocaine worth 10 bucks. I thought
for sure I was going to jail. That stupid jerk with me was supposed to
keep lookout."

Flushed with the joy of deliverance Carty swears he's giving up crack,
as though it were that simple to banish years of addiction.

"No more crack. I'm going home to do some pot."

SINCE THE DRUG CRACKDOWN

A look at what's happened in the Downtown Eastside since the Vancouver
Police cracked down on open drug use and dealing in February.

Arrests: 74 people for minor drug offences within the Downtown Eastside --
32 of them in playgrounds and parks, nine at bus stops and 33 in other
public areas. Eighteen of them were in Oppenheimer Park -- notorious for
drug dealing.

Signs of drugs use: Officers report that there has been a significant
drop in the numbers of needles and other drug paraphernalia found in
local parks and the number of arrests from Oppenheimer Park has
dropped off.

- - "The community feedback is that the problem in the park has
diminished," said Sgt. Joanne Doyle.

Source: Vancouver police