'HOW MUCH LONGER DO WE HAVE TO LIVE IN FEAR?'

Kerrisdale folks don't have to put up with it, why do we in East Van?

Why? Why should I be afraid to walk the streets?

I live in Vancouver's Downtown Eastside. I have been here off and on for 30
years now. Yet people tell me, "Don't do that, Lou. I don't want to read
about you in the paper."

And what shouldn't I do?

I shouldn't advocate, loudly, against the drug dealers who actually control
the streets of Vancouver's oldest area.

The advice, given with candor and care, comes from a long-term community
security worker, and one who lives in the community. This person went on to
say "they get you, eight or 10 of them, with knives."

Kerrisdale, that bastion of Vancouver middle-class character and
pretension, would not put up with a single dealer on their streets -- they
won't even put up with panhandlers.

But the people who live there have a political voice. They are heard in
city hall, the provincial legislature and even in far-away Ottawa.

If a drug dealer threatened one resident of Kerrisdale, there is no doubt
the police response would be fast, decisive and visible.

In the Downtown Eastside I am expected to share the sidewalk and community,
and frequently meet people whom I may not particularly care for.

Some will be rude. They will shove into line to get on the bus, not waiting
their turn. Others will have had one too many beers at one of the local
bars before heading to their parents' house in West Point Grey.

One of the now-ubiquitous "scooter" people will zoom down the street at
about three times walking speed, silently approaching from behind while
startling the daylights out of pedestrians.

I can live with all those people. Actually, they make the area a community.

But I do not expect to be censured by criminals dealing drugs.

Not users, trying desperately to pay for their own habit. But people who
sell drugs for one reason -- profit.

Sitting in a cafe one morning in late April, I watched as outside the
window one guy did $500 worth of business in 10 minutes -- in cash, fifties
and twenties, all in Canadian bills. May 13 he was still there, still
dealing all day long.

The Community Safety Office likes you to take photos to put on the wall, so
others know who you have seen dealing or holding cash or drugs for dealers.

Trust me, the dealers are not keen on standing still while I attempt to
take their photograph.

And I'm not sure I want to get stabbed doing the job that police and
immigration officials get paid quite well to do.

As I stand on the roof of my co-op, I watch the dealers deal at the corner
of Abbott and Cordova, seemingly impervious to the efforts of the police.

Efforts?

I haven't seen an officer in three hours, except for one who just drove by.
But that officer probably does not live in the community, or care about the
community.

For the officer it is just a job, except that the people who live here live
in a world of fear and oppression that no police officer can imagine simply
because the dealers won't go up against them.

But they threaten every other citizen by their very presence.

How long do the members of this community have to live in fear?

Lou Parsons,

Vancouver