SLOW CHANGE

On a cool, clear evening around midnight, Sgt. Greg McCullough walks down
Carrall Street, before pausing briefly at the edge of Pigeon Park.

McCullough, one of four street sergeants in the Vancouver Police
Department's City Wide Enforcement Team, looks a block south to a crowd of
30 people milling about outside the abandoned Pennsylvania Hotel at Carrall
and Hastings.

"They haven't noticed me yet. As soon as we get near you'll hear a whistle,
or someone will call out 'Six up' and they'll disperse and group up on the
next block. It's like herding cattle," says McCullough, 38, a former
Emergency Response Team member and father of four.

McCullough ignores incoherent abuse as he walks past three groups of people
in Pigeon Park, then spots an attractive blonde girl walking across Carrall
Street. She looks less than 18 years old.

The officer touches her left arm as she prepares to cross Hastings into the
melee in front of the Pennsylvania and asks her to step back. The girl is
homeless, a drug user and has just been dumped by her boyfriend. She's not
surprised McCullough thinks she is so young. "Everybody says that, people
can't believe I've been using for four years," she says, before explaining
her mother and grandmother both lived in the Downtown Eastside and, because
she is not on welfare, she has no housing. The only evidence of a tough
life is her thin frame and a reddish scar above her right eye.

Her skin is clear and her eyes, cold-steel blue. She has the face of a model.

McCullough hopes the girl has bail restrictions banning her from skid row,
so he can keep her away from the two open drug markets now operating on
Hastings Street at Carrall and Columbia.

The girl has a criminal record for assault and possession of drugs, but no
area restrictions. She is free to go, but decides at the last minute not to
cross the road toward the rapidly dispersing Pennsylvania crowd, and
instead wanders east along Hastings.

"It breaks my heart to see that. You know things are going to get worse for
her," says McCullough, who has a degree in political science from the
University of Victoria. "I've got a 16-year-old daughter myself."

By the time McCullough walks across Hastings to the old Pennsylvania Hotel,
the crowd has broken up and moved along the road to Columbia in front of
the A&M Food Market, directly opposite the Pigeon Park Savings Bank.

The sergeant follows the group and all but the most disoriented disperse.

A woman who looks to be in her 30s is the last to stand up and move on. The
crowd has left behind several crack pipes, at least four syringes with
needles exposed and countless plastic needle wrappers and blue rectangular
plastic containers empty of the water used by addicts to dilute their
drugs. Around the corner, in the laneway, a shocking amount of drug
paraphernalia litters the asphalt.

It's been almost 18 months since the City Wide Enforcement Team was created
to stamp out crime along Hastings Street, between Cambie and Gore, in
Oppenheimer Park and parts of Gastown.

The police have arrested dozens of dealers, closed some of the area's most
notorious pubs, pawn shops and corner stores and seen a reduction in
incidents of violent and non-violent crime in the CET catchment. A
Vancouver Agreement-funded review, still unreleased publicly, claims people
feel safer in the area and that crime has not increased dramatically in
other parts of the city. Old-time residents are starting to reappear on the
streets during the day.

But for the officers walking the beat, the action remains partly an
exercise in futility. Their efforts are stymied by an overloaded court
system, repeat offenders and a Four Pillar drug strategy heavy on harm
reduction and light on treatment.

The CET, created in April 2003, followed the police department's success
stamping out the open drug market outside Carnegie Centre at Main and Hastings.

Unable to secure additional funding, the police department redeployed
officers from traffic and other departments to create a 67-person team
within District Two. The team is led by Insp. John McKay and backed by six
sergeants, 60 constables and one intelligence officer.

During each of the two daily shifts, between five and seven teams of two
beat constables are deployed, with a sergeant overseeing.

Despite its name, the CET boundary is along Hastings Street, between Cambie
and Gore, at Oppenheimer Park on the 400-block of Powell and most recently
in Gastown. Police regularly patrol the alleys within their beat.

McKay said the first phase of the operation was to establish an increased
police presence and deal with social disorder in the community. Several
dealers were arrested and people smoking crack and injecting heroin or
cocaine on the street were questioned.

The second phase involved undercover surveillance of the 60-strong pack of
drug dealers and users that would move ahead of the beat police as they
proceeded. That pack has been reduced to about 30. However, the police
continue to play a game of hide and seek with the druggies.

"The people from Surrey or New Westminster that used to take the SkyTrain,
commit crimes, then come here to sell their goods and party for three days
on crack are gone. Now we are dealing with the locals, so that's reduced
the pack," McKay says.

Last September, the CET used more undercover officers and gradually through
last winter a steady stream of arrests were made. While the police have a
tough time getting prison time for dealers, they convinced judges to slap
no-go bail restrictions on some dealers. If those dealers are caught again
within the CET enforcement zone, the judge is likely to take a tougher stance.

This summer, the CET began its most ambitious operation, under the guidance
of Deputy Chief Constable Doug LePard, who is responsible for CET special
projects.

The project, called Operation Lucille, targeted illegal activity in city
pubs and hotels and illegal business activity in pawnshops and corner stores.

Explaining the history of the project's name, McKay points to a framed
poster of blues legend B.B. King behind his desk. The image shows King
leaning on his Gibson guitar, with the name Lucille on it.

"Doug is a big blues fan like me. We were sitting in the office talking
about the operation and he noticed the print and said, 'Let's call it
Lucille,'" McKay says.

The police worked with the B.C. Liquor Control and Licensing Branch, the
B.C. Employment Standards Branch, B.C. Ministry of Human Resources, the
city and the Canada Revenue Agency and ultimately closed two bars and 10
pawnshops.

The next step for the CET is to deal with property crime, which is
increasing in Gastown, by deploying officers to that area. The team is also
facing the relocation of dealers to the areas adjacent to the CET
boundaries, in particular the 400 and 500 blocks of East Hastings.

McKay, who attended a meeting on Sept. 29 where police were shown the
Vancouver Agreement's CET study, said the evaluators conducted focus groups
with drug users and sex workers.

"There were a number of things that were very positive. They found there
was no recognizable abuse of authority and that we've had a reduction in
crime from between five and 10 per cent in assault, robberies, theft of
auto and theft from auto. The streets might not look too different to
passersby, but to us it really does, and we know we're making a
difference," McKay says.

Jean Kavanagh, Vancouver Agreement spokeswoman, said the report, which is
large and detailed but not yet released to the public, has been coordinated
by Dr. Yvon Dandurand, research dean and criminology expert at the
University College of the Fraser Valley. Kavanagh said no decision has yet
been made about the report's release.

McKay is a cop's cop. The former Montrealer, who has a bachelor's degree in
sociology and psychology, is the department's use-of-force expert and has a
lighthearted way of interacting with officers in his command. The one-time
Mountie has few friends, however, among groups like the Anti Poverty
Committee, Pivot Legal Society and the Vancouver Area Network of Drug Users.

McKay, in turn, is deeply critical of the politics and social policy he
believes created the grim street-level conditions he is charged with
addressing.

"It's a very interesting area to police because there's so much push and
pull politically. You have to negotiate the politics around the supervised
injection site and deal with the various anarchist groups," says McKay,
leaning back in his chair at the CET office on the 300-block of Main Street.

Shortly after the CET began its work, the Pivot Legal Society claimed
police were routinely violating the rights of residents and the New
York-based Human Rights Watch alleged police abuses in the Downtown Eastside.

During the Courier's tour with police, most incidents they attended were
potentially dangerous.

Police know they are being monitored intently and walk a fine line as they
try to deal with people who are mentally ill, drug addicted and high.

On a Thursday morning on the 100-block of East Hastings Street, two
officers ask a young couple to stop smoking crack on the sidewalk. The
female gives up her pipe, while the male points his jagged pipe
threateningly at the officer, who repeats the request to drop the pipe.
When he doesn't, the officer hip-checks him suddenly and the man falls,
hitting his face on the ground. He stands up, his face bleeding and tells
the officer he will be making a complaint.

Sgt. Kirk Star, the street sergeant in charge, arrives immediately after
the incident and defends the police action.

"That's justifiable use of force. The user could have HIV or hepatitis and
has threatened an officer," Star says.

McKay believes the Downtown Eastside is a huge, failed social experiment.

"That's the shame of it all, it's social policy that created this. At some
point it was decided that you could house 3,000 mental patients in this
mess," McKay says. "In the early 1990s it became a place for the mentally
ill, then in 1999 we started hearing about dual diagnosis, which is people
mentally ill and addicted. Now it's called multiple diagnosis, which is
mentally ill and addicted with HIV and dying."

Many of the street-level addicts are living in small hotel rooms that are
paid for by the government, and receiving government mental and health
services. The B.C. Centre for Excellence in HIV/AIDS is studying some of
the area's addicts.

McKay is shocked at how in his view the service agencies operating in the
neighbourhood are ineffective at improving conditions.

"There's 140 different social service agencies down here and only three of
them work after 5 p.m. and on weekends. With the social housing, needle
exchanges and supervised injection site, this area has become a magnet for
addicts."

McKay accepts there is little he can do to change the social policy, or to
get the Vancouver Coastal Health Authority to spend more money on drug
treatment services. The authority, which has spent $3.5 million so far on
the supervised injection site, and pays for three million needles a year,
has only marginally increased the amount spent on detox or treatment over
the past few years.

McCullough starts his shift by driving through the CET area and monitoring
his radio, before parking his vehicle and walking around to talk with beat
officers. He knows the way some people feel about cops in the area, warning
a reporter to wind the passenger window all the way up and to check the
door handle whenever he re-enters the car.

"They'll spit in the window and they'll spit on the door handles," he says.

The Downtown Eastside is not a good place to police, especially for rookie
cops who get frustrated with their lack of ability to arrest people.

Over the course of the evening, McCullough spots a known dealer several
times, riding a BMX bike and basing himself on Carrall Street, particularly
near the city-owned Stanley New Fountain Hotel.

Each group of dealers has its turf: the Honduran dealers operate around
Carrall, the black dealers are at Abbott and the Vietnamese deal around the
300 to 600 block of East Hastings.

The dealers keep the crack wrapped in plastic in their mouths. If the
police attempt to search them, they simply swallow the crack, then vomit it
up later and sell it.

McCullough has arrested Honduran dealers, only to find they are seeking
refugee status in the country. They are usually back on the street within days.

A prime example of the dealer problem comes as McCullough walks up to the
YWCA Sheway Housing project on the 500-block of East Hastings to meet with
women at the centre upset by the sudden appearance of violent Vietnamese
dealers on their block.

In a doorway alongside the YWCA facility, a 29-year-old man, originally
from Vietnam, is smoking crack from a glass bong, designed for marijuana
use. McCullough approaches the man and asks where he lives and if he has
any needles on him or a knife.

The man evades answering, finally saying he is a landed immigrant on welfare.

McCullough puts on gloves and goes through the pockets in the man's new
leather jacket. He finds a cell phone, $900 in cash and two small empty
plastic containers. It is apparent the man is a crack dealer. On his radio
to the police dispatch, McCullough learns the man has a prior record for
just about everything, except sexual assault, and has a bail condition that
he cannot be on Hastings Street between Cambie and Columbia.

Because he's not in the restricted area there is nothing McCullough can do.
The man takes back his $900, gets on his bike and rides off with a smile on
his face. He is spotted on the same block the following day.

McCullough meets the women at Sheway and tells them he will ask his beat
officers to walk up to the 500-block of Hastings when they can.

Violence remains a fact of daily life. On Sept. 25, a man was beaten to
death in the lane alongside the Carnegie Centre. A few days later, a man
almost had his nose cut off by a fellow drug dealer who attacked him with a
razor blade in Oppenheimer Park.

However, police are forming relationships with the locals living in the
hotel rooms on the strip. Several times during the Courier's tour of the
area, the locals joked with the beat cops, asked them questions and told
them if something troubling was going on.

Two old-timers, Arthur Dechaine and Otto Kaymmer, have lived in the area
long enough to see it change from a place where alcohol was the big problem
to one where crack and heroin are the drugs of choice.

Kaymmer, who worked at the Savoy Hotel for 16 years, says after years of
being afraid to go out at night, he is again comfortable walking on
Hastings in the evening.

"They patrol up and down here quite a bit now. I love it, it's helping the
area and keeps the junkies moving," he says.

Dechaine says the drug dealers and users don't like the police presence.

"The police are cleaning the place up. They used to call Oppenheimer Park
'needle park.' Now it's a place you can actually go."

McCullough also recalls a brief moment of peace last summer, when a large
eagle flew around Hastings and captured the attention of everybody on the
street, from cops to the dealers.

But he knows full well that the police presence has not eradicated
street-level drug use and dealing, and he remains baffled why a landed
immigrant or person seeking refugee status is not sent home if they are
caught committing crime in Canada.

As police walk up laneways, people disperse, then reappear as the police
move on. City cleaners regularly hose down Hastings and continually pick up
needles and other drug paraphernalia the users throw on the street and in
the lanes

"It's very hard to do an effective job down here. The problem is systemic
and beyond anything we can solve. We just deal with things as they appear
on the street, one situation at a time," he says.

Moments later a mentally ill drug addict stumbles into the Main Street
police station with a serious knife wound to her left arm. McCullough
recognizes the woman, calms her down and calls an ambulance. Within minutes
she is being treated and cared for. As is often the case, the police take
criticism, until someone needs their help.

Side Bar:

Police presence good for business

Downtown Eastside merchants, who feel the rampant drug market has hurt
their livelihoods, appreciate the strengthened police presence in the
community.

When Charlie Kwon bought Payless Meats in 1998, Oppenheimer Park was a
hangout for drunks.

Kwon, whose business is directly opposite the park on the 400-block of
Powell Street, had no problem with them.

"They would drink Chinese cooking wine and they were lazy, but they were
honest," said Kwon, a former banker who moved with his family from Korea in
the mid-1990s.

Things began to change in the summer of 2000. Kwon, who lived above the
business at the time, noticed Vietnamese dealers move into the area and saw
them kick the regulars out of the park, often using force.

He called police dozens of times, but the dealers and drug users would
disperse just as the police arrived and return an hour or so later.

Soon after, people started shooting up in the doorway of his shop, leaving
needles behind. His customers, regularly harassed by dealers offering them
crack, began to stay away.

Things were looking bad for Kwon, until six months ago, when he noticed a
police patrol car parked permanently on his block and two beat officers
wandering about the park.

"The police started watching the park all the time. Now the dealers can't
sell drugs, the junkies can't inject and they've moved. Now there's no more
needles, just leaves," he said. "I'm very happy. Big improvement in
business, my customers are coming back."