FWPD Requests Citizen’s Help: June 2006

Chief York is always saying a big part of the problem is that not enough people are willing to cooperate with the police in fighting crime - and that is true, to a large degree. But what about the police themselves? They have to do some of the reaching out to folks to get them to overcome their shyness. I have given several examples already of various FWPD officers seemingly going to great lengths to ignore my repeated attempts to communicate with them about the problems here. Just to be fair, I thought I should tell about the time they actually did ask for my help. This particular event didn’t start out well, and it ended up pretty much like the rest, but for a brief moment at least, it actually did appear that FWPD had pulled their heads out of their asses.

Some background information will be useful to understand this story. There is a house about a half block away from my home that had always been the most active drug house since I moved here in 1995. Although the house is owned by a relative of his, Carl has always been the main proprietor of operations there. In the early years, I saw this house as a major problem. I had specifically mentioned it several times when speaking with different FWPD officers. It would not be uncommon to see as many as a dozen people sometimes standing in the yard or on the sidewalk in front of this house, and that fact alone made it appear intimidating.

Carl ran a smart operation. The key to it’s success was that he seldom allowed buyers inside the house. Someone out front would take the money, then a few minutes later another person would come walking out from the side of the house to make the delivery. Although FWPD and Karen Richards don’t seem to be able to agree on exactly what it takes to get a warrant for searching a house, Carl’s precautions certainly made this less likely to occur. I actually lived here for quite some time before I realized that no one actually lived in that house. It’s sole purpose was to serve as a shelter for their drug operations.

Over time, as I got to know Carl a bit, my opinion of him changed. The most obvious element of his operation was that it differed from the activities that were going on near my house. The guys on the corner here were usually much louder than the people at Carl’s house. The people here often didn’t even appear to be trying to hide the fact that they were selling drugs. It was very easy to look out my window at the right moment and actually see the pieces of crack that they had in their hands or had set somewhere near them. While the guys here would frequently drop trash in my yard or on the ground near it, Carl and his people kept their lawn manicured and the house in good order.

Although there was a lot of mixing between these two groups, as a general rule Carl and his people were far less bothersome to me. In fact, many times I heard Carl as he came over to talk with the guys standing by my home. “Don’t overplay it” he’d say. “Hold your spot for a few minutes, then walk around a bit.” Other times I heard him advise “Try to keep it quiet. If you make too much noise, these old folks are gonna get upset and call the police, and that’s bad for all of us.” A lot of the young guys seem to be doing this for the excitement sometimes, but Carl and his group was more focused - they were here for the money alone.

On this particular morning, I looked out my window to see four FWPD officers walking around Carl’s house. Out of curiosity, I stepped onto my back porch to watch them as they continued examining the outside of the house. I looked back to the corner and saw that my neighbor, Arlen, was standing there watching as well. As I walked over to speak with him, I thought nothing of the fact that I had left my wallet inside the house. I noticed Brian was setting on his friend's porch across the street from where the officers were at. A few minutes later, these officers walked over and appeared to be checking Brian’s I.D. for no apparent reason.

As I left the corner, I joked with Arlen that I’d better get inside because I didn’t have my I.D. on me. As I began climbing back onto my back porch, I realized that statement was no joke. I heard a voice shout “Hey”, and I was certain it was one of the police officers. As I turned to look, the group of four was now walking quickly down the middle of the street directly towards me. Officer Monroe was motioning for me to come to him, but I decided it would be best to remain on my own property at that time. When the group reached my back yard, Officer Monroe sternly demanded to know what I was doing here. He seemed disbelieving as I told him that I own this house and that I have lived here for ten years. He remained skeptical as he said “That’s funny, I’ve been patrolling here for three years and I’ve never seen you before today.”

I explained that I had only stepped outside to see what was going on, but when I realized that they were checking people for I.D. I was headed inside to grab my wallet. The officers just stared at me without saying a word, so I said “Look, I live here, this is my home. You can see my back door is open because I just stepped out to see what was going on” When I offered to get my wallet from inside the house to show them my I.D. they finally relaxed a bit and said that was not necessary. Although Officer Monroe introduced the other three officers to me at this point, the only one I recall was Officer Foster. I’m pretty sure he was the same officer who had resolved the argument over a bicycle here during the summer of 2004.

Officer Monroe and I began talking about the neighborhood and Carl’s house naturally came up. Officer Monroe asked me what I knew about it and I answered “I know what you know. These guys don’t take people inside the house and they usually have enough guys standing around outside to confuse anyone that is trying to figure them out.” Officer Monroe asked if I could tell whether the delivery guys were coming from the back or from the side of the house and I said I hadn’t seen enough to determine that.

I was really surprised at the next question, as Officer Monroe asked if I would consider allowing them (FWPD) to put cameras on my property. When I chuckled, officer Monroe quickly explained “The cameras won’t be aimed at your house, they’ll just be watching Carl’s house. I explained that I wasn’t laughing because I thought they wanted to spy on me. I was laughing because I had made that offer to FWPD myself three years ago. Officer Monroe truly seemed dumbfounded as I explained my prior interactions with one of his superiors, Officer Marshall.

Before I answered his request, I gave my opinion about Carl’s house. I told him that although there is a lot of activity there, it is not as bothersome as the guys who stand on the corner. I also said that I just don’t think FWPD has the resources to shut this neighborhood down entirely and I would prefer they focus on the guys who are selling from my property rather than from their own house. I closed, however, by stating that if they really thought it would be helpful, then I would consent to the cameras. Of course I realized that installing cameras might be asking for trouble, but I felt that it was a necessary risk. In fact, just being seen talking with the police might be dangerous around here, but it was a price I was willing to pay for finally getting to meet an Officer who truly seemed to want to address the problems here.

Officer Monroe pointed to Carl’s house and said “That’s my summer project, shutting this house down.” As the group left, Officer Monroe told me that he would be in touch with me about the cameras soon. Of course I never heard back from Officer Monroe or anyone else at FWPD about the cameras. I did see Officer Monroe at Carl’s house about a week after this though, and that will be the subject of the next post.