NEIGHBORS IN THE GRIP OF LAWLESSNESS

Minister Vows To Reclaim Dorchester 'Hell Zone'

In an effort to stem violence in Dorchester's Codman Square, the Rev. Bruce
Wall and supporters from Global Ministries have rented an apartment near a
troubled street to see if they can ease the problem by their presence. A
Globe reporter will provide daily reports from the street.

Residents call it the Hell Zone: a half-block of Lyndhurst Street at the
corner of Washington Street in Dorchester's Codman Square, where dope
dealers openly run their business, and prostitutes turn tricks from dusk
until 7 a.m., forcing residents of this otherwise well-groomed Boston
neighborhood to lock themselves inside their half-million-dollar homes.

By day, Lyndhurst appears to be the ideal community. Colonial style homes
with manicured lawns are cared for by middle-class families who know each
other's names and share gardening tips. But at night, young men in baggy
jeans, oversized T-shirts, and sports jerseys take over. They use rocks and
beer bottles to knock out the street lights. And they use the porches and
hallways in front of two brick apartment buildings at the center of the
Hell Zone as their base of operation. Late-night fights often spill into
the street, sometimes punctuated by gunfire. On July 4, the violence took
its toll when a bullet struck Marcus Dubose, 28, in the head, killing him
instantly.

The shooting prompted the Rev. Bruce Wall of Global Ministries Christian
Church to stage what he calls an "occupation" of Lyndhurst Street.
Yesterday, he began living in an apartment he has rented near the troubled
corner. For one week, he says, he and his followers are going to rid the
street of drug-dealing and gun-wielding youths.

But many residents say they have been living with the problem for years.
Some are glad Wall has arrived. Others worry about what will happen when he
leaves.

"Hopefully something positive will come out of it," said Shirelle Gomes,
who has lived on Lyndhurst with her family for more than 20 years. Her
apartment in the two-family home is just footsteps away from the corner.
"But one week? I don't know. We've been having community meetings and all
that. Nothing's changed."

Gomes pointed to a couple of young men standing at the corner.

Neighbors don't call them "thugs" or "gangsters," she said. They call them
demons.

"Most of them don't live here," Gomes said. "This is a nice street with
good people. But at nighttime the demons come out."

Lyndhurst Street is split along the fault line that divides some Boston
streets between the promise of prosperity and the danger of crime and neglect.

About 25 years ago, Codman Square was a scene of urban disrepair. Half the
storefronts were empty. The community was riddled with vacant lots filled
with trash and burned-out cars. Even Lyndhurst's grand Victorian and
Colonial houses were boarded-up and left to decay, said homeowners and
community activists.

The street, which stands among the tree-lined grandeur of Melville Avenue
and Wellesley Park, was falling apart. Random shootings and drug busts had
become the norm, until the late 1980s, when community leaders started
mobilizing funds, revitalizing Codman Square and Lyndhurst Street.

"What we've seen is a stabilization," said Richard Heath, a community
activist with the Codman Square Neighborhood Development Corporation. By
the 1990s, blighted buildings in Codman Square had become townhouses and
apartments. Empty storefronts soon were banks, stores, and restaurants.
Seizing on the turnaround, people were willing to take a chance on
Lyndhurst Street. They bought and fixed up houses, turning some into
condominiums and apartments.

There was peace for a while, but the two red brick buildings on the corner
continued to serve as a revolving door for troublesome young men, some of
whom lived there, many of whom did not, said residents.

Stability did not endure.

"That was a good, strong block," Heath said. "I would say 18 months ago we
started to see it start to fray. The stability, the peace and quiet,
started to change."

Today, Lyndhurst is a multiethnic strip with residents of varying incomes
and ages. It is a one-way street that opens into Washington Street and its
vibrant array of discount convenience stores and small businesses.

But residents say they would rather back their cars down the street to get
to a grocery store than risk walking or even driving through the Hell Zone.
If it is too late at night, said one homeowner, he would prefer to wait
until morning.

"If you live here, you should know that you will be a victim of crime,"
said the 45-year-old, who refused to give his name for fear of retaliation.
"My son was stabbed by those guys two years ago. He was walking home from
work and they stopped him and asked him where he was from and what he was
doing here. Then they stabbed him. I even had prostitutes turning tricks in
my yard. I can do nothing about it."

Neighbors point to the red brick house. Illegal activity goes on all night,
they say, and most times police turn a blind eye.

"I sit here on my porch and watch," said another resident named John, who
also refused to give his name for fear he may become a victim. "Sometimes
there are undercover police officers who sit in a black Blazer in front of
those apartments. On those days, it gets a little quieter."

Still, residents and activists say the corner is in state of lawlessness.
They say young people from other neighborhoods take care of their illegal
business on Lyndhurst because they know they can get away with it.

Police Captain Frank Armstrong, commander of District C-11, acknowledges
that outsiders are causing the problems on Lyndhurst Street, but he says
his officers are walking the beat and the drug squad has been active there.
He said he has attended community meetings and encouraged residents to get
the police involved whenever they see a crime.

Compared with the number of police reports from other streets in the city,
Armstrong said, Lyndhurst is not the worst.

"Overall, it's not that bad," Armstrong said. "We've had a walking beat in
Codman Square for years. Lyndhurst has a lot of dedicated residents."

Wall has asked Armstrong and Mayor Thomas Menino to spend a night on
Lyndhurst during his occupation to see what residents are complaining
about. Armstrong has already agreed; Menino has not yet responded.

"We're going to take back what the enemy has taken from us," Wall said at a
packed church yesterday morning.

Some neighbors say that with all the attention Wall is generating, the
troublemakers will probably take a week off, and wait for Wall and the
police to go away.

Residents are already seeing beefed-up police patrols.

During his weeklong stay, Wall says he will identify some of the problems
on the street, the troublemakers, and the troubled houses. He will organize
community patrols each night from 8 p.m. to 11 p.m. He says the police will
make calls to Lyndhurst Street a top priority. Most of his time will be
spent dealing with the problems that surround the two red brick buildings.

Celeste Santiago lives with her two teenage children and small grandson in
one of those buildings.

She keeps two live doves "for luck" and a pit bull for protection.

She pointed to a corner at the bottom hallway where she said strangers and
residents smoke marijuana. She pointed to the broken window by the front
door. And she pointed to her children, a 14- and 15-year-old who are not
allowed to leave the house unless she deems it safe. Strangers have come to
her door with guns tucked in their pants in plain sight, she said.

"I've lived here six years and I've seen drugs, fights, my house got broken
into," she said in her large, five-bedroom apartment. "I hope [Wall] can
help. We need it to change."

Globe correspondent Lisa Fleischer contributed to this report.