I think that building a casino in Fort Wayne is a great idea, but there is something missing from the business plan which could tremendously help the project. As has been mentioned on several other blogs, we all know that casinos attract pimps and drug dealers. Instead of wasting a lot of money paying the police to endlessly chase these guys around, I suggest we simply embrace it and make the most of it.
I propose that the City actively work to direct the existing vice and narcotics activity of Fort Wayne into the greater downtown area. Although we should put no limits on the number of pimps/dealers there, they will need to be licensed and regulated by the city to provide adequate coverage of all times and locations. A lot of pimps/dealers frequently take Monday off, using the opportunity to crash from a hard weekend. But if there is an event such as a ballgame or an Embassy performance on that night, we need to make sure there is someone there to cover it.
I would further propose that we even subsidize this activity using CEDIT money, so those taxpayers who are morally opposed to this proposal can be told “Don’t worry, at least it’s really not costing you anything.” This should not be a full subsidy though, as actually giving away drugs may cause non-users to try a hit just for the fun of it.
In my neighborhood, the Crackhead will normally spend his $20, get his rock, then immediately goes to an open garage or an empty lot with high weeds and chill for a while. But if we contribute $10 towards the purchase, that means the Crackhead will still have $10 left in his pocket after getting his hit. Since he is already downtown, it is logical to assume that he will go to a ballgame or to see all the pretty flowers at the botanical conservatory while he is there. This will stimulate the economy and help the downtown area grow strong.
While some may criticize this proposal because of the fact that people addicted to vices and narcotics are very likely to steal from other people, the greater point to realize here is that this already occurs. But currently, with the vice and narcotics activity mostly taking place in poorer areas of town, this means the addicts are stealing from people who already have little to give. After getting robbed for the third time in a month, and being down to one’s last few dollars, it is very likely that person will choose to spend the money on food rather than a ballgame.
But the average downtown consumer is from a much higher income bracket. His getting robbed will likely not have as strong an adverse impact upon discretionary spending. There probably is a point though where too many robberies against any particular individual might noticeably affect his spending habits.
Therefore, I propose that we regulate the robbers as well. A cap will first be placed upon the amount which can be stolen from each individual downtown consumer per week. I suggest that it be proportional to income, as that will allow maximum squeezing to occur. The total amount of allowable stolen money will then be equally divided among each robber who has applied for a permit as the maximum amount they are allowed to steal from consumers each week.
Now, to keep track of this, downtown consumers will have a digital barcode laser-etched into their forehead. Each robber who has applied for a permit will be given a small electronic device which, when waved across the consumer’s forehead, will automatically record the time, date and location of the transaction, as well as the name’s of both the consumer and the robber.
At that time, the electronic device will display both the amount of money the robber is still allowed to take in that week, as well as the amount of squeeze left in that particular consumer for the week. If different, the lower of these two numbers is what should be taken. The robber must manually enter the amount he is taking, and the consumer must verify this by entering his personal PIN code into the device.
The incentive for all parties to comply with this measure will be as follows. People who rob past their allotted amount will have their drug & prostitution privileges revoked. And consumers who refuse to get scanned will be beaten up and thrown in a ditch.
UPDATE:
Damn, I totally forgot that in order to get anything past the Council you first have to hire an expensive out of town consultant who will tell them with a straight face that one plus one equals three. Oh well, so much for my proposal.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Friday, July 24, 2009
Henry Louis Gates, Jr. Arrested
Most of my off-topic posts of the past few months have been used as fillers. For reasons that were explained in my previous post, I was attempting to keep the blog alive while trying hard not to bitch about what was going on in my neighborhood. But occasionally I see something in the world beyond Cracktown that actually interests me enough to want to write about it. The recent arrest of Henry Louis Gates, Jr. is one such example.
After reading a deeply informative article on the subject, I have quickly come to the conclusion that both the officer as well as the neighbor in question are clearly stupid racists.
I ask you, how much more blatant do their actions have to be to understand that this was racism in action?
The neighbor calling because she saw what appeared to be a break in was definitely a racist. I'll bet she never would have called if the people she saw were white.
And what about that evil, wicked police officer? I am certain that if the belligerent man he encountered there was white he would have just left without asking any questions.
Heck, it's not like the officer was easily identifiable because he was wearing a uniform - whoops, just read the actual police report and apparently he was.
But don’t let such minor facts get in the way of your better judgment. It’s clearly racism - without a doubt.
And I’m sure that if it had actually been a break in, and either the neighbor or the officer had ignored it, Gates would not be complaining about that.
Thank God we have a President who speaks from his heart, rather than letting the facts cloud his judgment. I was really afraid all that would come to an end after Bush left office.
After reading a deeply informative article on the subject, I have quickly come to the conclusion that both the officer as well as the neighbor in question are clearly stupid racists.
I ask you, how much more blatant do their actions have to be to understand that this was racism in action?
The neighbor calling because she saw what appeared to be a break in was definitely a racist. I'll bet she never would have called if the people she saw were white.
And what about that evil, wicked police officer? I am certain that if the belligerent man he encountered there was white he would have just left without asking any questions.
Heck, it's not like the officer was easily identifiable because he was wearing a uniform - whoops, just read the actual police report and apparently he was.
But don’t let such minor facts get in the way of your better judgment. It’s clearly racism - without a doubt.
And I’m sure that if it had actually been a break in, and either the neighbor or the officer had ignored it, Gates would not be complaining about that.
Thank God we have a President who speaks from his heart, rather than letting the facts cloud his judgment. I was really afraid all that would come to an end after Bush left office.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
A Brief Interlude of Meaningful Dialogue
My direct communication with Sergeant Ritchie began on December 19, 2008, when he sent an e-mail saying he was willing to engage me in dialogue. It was apparent from his response that he had perused my blog a bit, mentioning one older post specifically. Sergeant Ritchie also laid out some basic rules for our dialogue, including that I not make reckless comments such as accusing his officers of running drugs here, and that I not post his private comments on my blog. He went on to tell me about his background in law enforcement and a bit about his own personal approach to policing and supervising other officers. My first impression was that he was a sincere person, so I replied a couple days later by stating that I was willing to accept his terms.
To a large degree, our communications entailed each of us elaborating a bit on things that the other already knew about. I will not go into the details of what he had to say on these matters, but for my part, an example would be of the day that I called the front desk to report an open door in my neighborhood. Even though I was in a hurry to leave town that day, I waited until the officers arrived so that I could speak with them. The problem though is that the officers on the street are often very hard to read. Usually they give little feedback and frequently fail to even acknowledge that they are hearing what you are saying. I know this is not actually the case much of the time, but there have been other times when it appears that they didn’t even hear what was said to them.
In one of my letters to Sergeant Ritchie, I began by giving him the incident report number for the open door call, so he would know what I was referring to. I went on to tell him that it appears as though this unoccupied house was attracting the attention of the local drug dealers, as several neighbors had reported to me that they had seen drug activity there before and that the house had been broken into on previous occasions. I also made note of the graffiti slogan which was painted on the house next to this one. I had seen this same sign on another empty house nearby as well as on the sidewalk in front of my home. I hoped that alerting him to the new insignia and the places it was located might give him some useful information on the shifting dynamics of the local gang situation in my neighborhood.
From the beginning, all I have wanted here was to have a functional relationship between myself and the officers who patrol my neighborhood. By the end of 2006, I had come to the conclusion that not only was the Command Staff not willing to assist in this endeavor, but at least one member seemed to actually be putting up obstacles to thwart it. I have always felt that if I could have direct discussions with the patrol officers and perhaps their immediate supervisors, then they would quickly realize that I am on their side. It seemed to me that with Ritchie’s position as a Sergeant who frequently patrolled my neighborhood, he might be the person to finally help me to establish meaningful communication.
If you look at my blog, you will notice a distinct change in the way I posted after Sergeant Ritchie and I began our dialogue. From February 7 (when I started the blog) until December 14, I had one hundred and twelve posts. But from December 22 until June 10, I only had seven posts, and four of these had absolutely nothing to do with my neighborhood or the police. So I went from eleven posts per month bitching about my neighborhood to about one post every other month. I had all but given up on my blog at this point, and this was a conscious decision that was made because I felt my direct communication with Sergeant Ritchie would be far more beneficial than my public complaints.
But there were a couple reasons why I still wasn’t ready to give up the blog totally. First of all, I have mentioned before that I have been through many cycles of high and low drug activity in my neighborhood. And I have seen similar cycles in the way the police deal with the problem. A few months of calm was just not enough to convince me that the problems of the past thirteen years had finally come to an end. In the absence of a functional local news media (with a few notable exceptions), this blog was my only voice. It was the only means I had to ensure that if the drug dealers and the police went back to their old habits someone might hear my pleas for help.
I also needed Sergeant Ritchie to hear what (in my opinion) were some of the past mistakes that were made by the officers here. From the beginning, Sergeant Ritchie made it clear that he would not be discussing with me the relationship between himself and his command staff. And I accepted that. Even with as much anger as I still have towards the past misdeeds of some members of this group, I always try to stay more focused on the future. Having direct communication with an officer who both gave a damn and was in a position to influence at least a few other officers was enough to trade in my grudge for.
I made no complaints to him about his superiors, and I characterized the past efforts of some of the lower ranking officers as misunderstandings rather than mistakes. I told him that I was certain if we sat down together for a conversation that two things would result from it. First, I thought he would probably laugh when I told him how some of the officers were perceived here, knowing how far from the truth this assessment really was. I was also certain that after listening to his response, I would view each of these officers in a far less unfriendly manner. But I added that I thought it was extremely important that someone on his side of the fence to understand these perceptions, as countering them would allow the police to more effectively do their job.
I was almost ready to stand down and end my public diatribe. All I needed was an assurance that I would be listened to. Unfortunately, although I did speak with Ritchie one afternoon for a few minutes while he was on patrol, we never did get the chance to have that meaningful conversation. And it appears now that we probably never will. And that, the manner in which our dialogue came to an end and the reasons for it, will be the subject of my next post.
To a large degree, our communications entailed each of us elaborating a bit on things that the other already knew about. I will not go into the details of what he had to say on these matters, but for my part, an example would be of the day that I called the front desk to report an open door in my neighborhood. Even though I was in a hurry to leave town that day, I waited until the officers arrived so that I could speak with them. The problem though is that the officers on the street are often very hard to read. Usually they give little feedback and frequently fail to even acknowledge that they are hearing what you are saying. I know this is not actually the case much of the time, but there have been other times when it appears that they didn’t even hear what was said to them.
In one of my letters to Sergeant Ritchie, I began by giving him the incident report number for the open door call, so he would know what I was referring to. I went on to tell him that it appears as though this unoccupied house was attracting the attention of the local drug dealers, as several neighbors had reported to me that they had seen drug activity there before and that the house had been broken into on previous occasions. I also made note of the graffiti slogan which was painted on the house next to this one. I had seen this same sign on another empty house nearby as well as on the sidewalk in front of my home. I hoped that alerting him to the new insignia and the places it was located might give him some useful information on the shifting dynamics of the local gang situation in my neighborhood.
From the beginning, all I have wanted here was to have a functional relationship between myself and the officers who patrol my neighborhood. By the end of 2006, I had come to the conclusion that not only was the Command Staff not willing to assist in this endeavor, but at least one member seemed to actually be putting up obstacles to thwart it. I have always felt that if I could have direct discussions with the patrol officers and perhaps their immediate supervisors, then they would quickly realize that I am on their side. It seemed to me that with Ritchie’s position as a Sergeant who frequently patrolled my neighborhood, he might be the person to finally help me to establish meaningful communication.
If you look at my blog, you will notice a distinct change in the way I posted after Sergeant Ritchie and I began our dialogue. From February 7 (when I started the blog) until December 14, I had one hundred and twelve posts. But from December 22 until June 10, I only had seven posts, and four of these had absolutely nothing to do with my neighborhood or the police. So I went from eleven posts per month bitching about my neighborhood to about one post every other month. I had all but given up on my blog at this point, and this was a conscious decision that was made because I felt my direct communication with Sergeant Ritchie would be far more beneficial than my public complaints.
But there were a couple reasons why I still wasn’t ready to give up the blog totally. First of all, I have mentioned before that I have been through many cycles of high and low drug activity in my neighborhood. And I have seen similar cycles in the way the police deal with the problem. A few months of calm was just not enough to convince me that the problems of the past thirteen years had finally come to an end. In the absence of a functional local news media (with a few notable exceptions), this blog was my only voice. It was the only means I had to ensure that if the drug dealers and the police went back to their old habits someone might hear my pleas for help.
I also needed Sergeant Ritchie to hear what (in my opinion) were some of the past mistakes that were made by the officers here. From the beginning, Sergeant Ritchie made it clear that he would not be discussing with me the relationship between himself and his command staff. And I accepted that. Even with as much anger as I still have towards the past misdeeds of some members of this group, I always try to stay more focused on the future. Having direct communication with an officer who both gave a damn and was in a position to influence at least a few other officers was enough to trade in my grudge for.
I made no complaints to him about his superiors, and I characterized the past efforts of some of the lower ranking officers as misunderstandings rather than mistakes. I told him that I was certain if we sat down together for a conversation that two things would result from it. First, I thought he would probably laugh when I told him how some of the officers were perceived here, knowing how far from the truth this assessment really was. I was also certain that after listening to his response, I would view each of these officers in a far less unfriendly manner. But I added that I thought it was extremely important that someone on his side of the fence to understand these perceptions, as countering them would allow the police to more effectively do their job.
I was almost ready to stand down and end my public diatribe. All I needed was an assurance that I would be listened to. Unfortunately, although I did speak with Ritchie one afternoon for a few minutes while he was on patrol, we never did get the chance to have that meaningful conversation. And it appears now that we probably never will. And that, the manner in which our dialogue came to an end and the reasons for it, will be the subject of my next post.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Sergeant Jim Ritchie - A Good Cop?
Before moving along with this story, I want to make a few points about the communication which Sergeant Ritchie and I engaged in during the past six months.
- It is my understanding that Sergeant Ritchie was acting independently here, on his own time and stating his own opinions. At no time did Sergeant Ritchie say or imply that his words represented official FWPD policy.
- While I do not believe that any information which Sergeant Ritchie shared with me would be considered as proprietary to FWPD, there was enough said to easily shatter Chief York’s delusional belief that Fort Wayne (and specifically my neighborhood) does not have a gang problem.
- It has come to my attention that Sergeant Ritchie has recently experienced a serious personal hardship which, in itself, would fully justify his decision to disengage from communicating with me further.
- The communication between Sergeant Ritchie and myself was considered by me and (I believe) by Sergeant Ritchie to be a personal dialogue between the two of us, and not something we would share with others. It is for that reason that I will be discussing our communications in a very vague manner, only stating what I feel is absolutely necessary in order to adequately inform this story.
- I think there is a good chance that the FWPD administration, who tries so hard to pretend they are not aware of this blog and it’s extremely critical appraisal of their performance, may be upset with Sergeant Ritchie for engaging me both in private and on the blog. If it should ever come to my attention that the department has reprimanded Sergeant Ritchie in any way for engaging in dialogue with me, I can assure Chief York that he will later regret that decision.
- Although I certainly did not agree with all of Sergeant Ritchie’s opinions, I believe his intentions were sincere. And, while it may not be apparent at this point, I can assure all that this small dose of courageous and honest interaction with a member of FWPD has greatly calmed my disposition towards the entire department.
Monday, July 20, 2009
The Schizophrenia of FWPD
Before discussing my communication with Sergeant Ritchie, I want to step back a couple of weeks before that began, and mention something that happened on the afternoon of December 8, 2008, as I witnessed something that had lately become a very infrequent occurrence here. On that day, I watched the several guys standing on the corner in front of my house long enough to be fairly certain that they were selling illegal drugs to passing cars. And so, I did what the public persona of the schizophrenic FWPD urges citizens to do, by calling them to report this activity. Of course, my call was met by the alter ego, the one that just wants people like me to shut the hell up.
Having seen no police presence for an hour after my call or for two hours before the call, and watching the guys on the corner move into the streets, blocking traffic as they fought (they may have just been dancing though, it’s hard to tell) in the middle of the intersection, I became more perturbed. I have tried hard to listen to FWPD and to do everything they ask of me.
The police tell me not to try and deal with the drug dealers directly, but to call and let their trained officers handle it. Even though the criminal activities here are almost always drug related, and the automatons who answer at the front desk frequently appear not to be properly trained in how to deal with such calls, they still tell me not to call Vice & Narcotics directly, but rather to call the front desk for non-emergencies. Then when I do this, the operator transfers me to Vice anyway. The people who answer in Vice seldom give their name and frequently aren’t even police officers, but make it clear that they are bothered by such calls.
Several of the patrol officers (on many different occasions) have stated or implied that I was contributing to the problem here by not actively working against it. Yet much of what is said by the people I speak with on the telephone indicates that they just want me to stop calling and to ignore the problem. Add to this the fact that official press releases by FWPD administration continually place the blame for our serious criminal problems upon citizens who are reluctant to speak to and cooperate with the police, and the cause for my anger should become apparant.
I’M TIRED OF THE BULLSHIT !!!
So, I drew up a letter, detailing what I perceived the problem to be and asking for their suggestions on how I should handle the matter. In this letter, I asked why the person (officer?) I spoke with stated that a police car was already in the area when this was obviously not true. I asked for clarification as to whether I was to call the front desk or Vice when reporting drug activity. And I asked if I should take their apparent displeasure with my calls to indicate that I should just ignore the problem and quit calling.
The police have me over a barrel. If they do not intend to enforce the law here, I can not force them to do so. But if that’s the case, I want it on the record - for my own protection. It is not fair for them to complain when I do call and to complain when I don’t call. I just want these morons to make up their damn minds and let me know what it is they expect from me.
Since FWPD does not have any functional method for fielding citizen inquiries about such serious matters, I was going to send this letter to them through the only means they make available. With much reluctance, I was preparing to file a formal complaint with the department alleging that they improperly dealt with my phone call and my request for help here. I had gone as far as writing up the letter, and even stopped by Creighton Street to pick up an official complaint form. And then, just before I sent this in, I received an e-mail from Sergeant Jim Ritchie of FWPD, offering to take me up on my offer to engage in dialogue.
And that (I promise) will be the subject of my next post.
Having seen no police presence for an hour after my call or for two hours before the call, and watching the guys on the corner move into the streets, blocking traffic as they fought (they may have just been dancing though, it’s hard to tell) in the middle of the intersection, I became more perturbed. I have tried hard to listen to FWPD and to do everything they ask of me.
The police tell me not to try and deal with the drug dealers directly, but to call and let their trained officers handle it. Even though the criminal activities here are almost always drug related, and the automatons who answer at the front desk frequently appear not to be properly trained in how to deal with such calls, they still tell me not to call Vice & Narcotics directly, but rather to call the front desk for non-emergencies. Then when I do this, the operator transfers me to Vice anyway. The people who answer in Vice seldom give their name and frequently aren’t even police officers, but make it clear that they are bothered by such calls.
Several of the patrol officers (on many different occasions) have stated or implied that I was contributing to the problem here by not actively working against it. Yet much of what is said by the people I speak with on the telephone indicates that they just want me to stop calling and to ignore the problem. Add to this the fact that official press releases by FWPD administration continually place the blame for our serious criminal problems upon citizens who are reluctant to speak to and cooperate with the police, and the cause for my anger should become apparant.
I’M TIRED OF THE BULLSHIT !!!
So, I drew up a letter, detailing what I perceived the problem to be and asking for their suggestions on how I should handle the matter. In this letter, I asked why the person (officer?) I spoke with stated that a police car was already in the area when this was obviously not true. I asked for clarification as to whether I was to call the front desk or Vice when reporting drug activity. And I asked if I should take their apparent displeasure with my calls to indicate that I should just ignore the problem and quit calling.
The police have me over a barrel. If they do not intend to enforce the law here, I can not force them to do so. But if that’s the case, I want it on the record - for my own protection. It is not fair for them to complain when I do call and to complain when I don’t call. I just want these morons to make up their damn minds and let me know what it is they expect from me.
Since FWPD does not have any functional method for fielding citizen inquiries about such serious matters, I was going to send this letter to them through the only means they make available. With much reluctance, I was preparing to file a formal complaint with the department alleging that they improperly dealt with my phone call and my request for help here. I had gone as far as writing up the letter, and even stopped by Creighton Street to pick up an official complaint form. And then, just before I sent this in, I received an e-mail from Sergeant Jim Ritchie of FWPD, offering to take me up on my offer to engage in dialogue.
And that (I promise) will be the subject of my next post.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
A New Approach: Lifting the Veil of Anonymity
Very soon, I will begin changing the manner in which I post on this blog by using the real names of FWPD officers rather than employing my past practice of (mostly) using pseudonmms. Although my reasons for choosing to do this are really quite simple, the process through which I arrived at this decision was a bit more complex. In this and the next several posts I will explain how and why my plans for the blog changed many times during the past several months, why I took my blog off-line a couple of weeks ago, and what my current goals for this blog are.
I would begin by referring you to my post of June 10, 2009, which elicited a strong response from a person calling himself Jim Ritchie. And to understand why in my response to his comment I referred to him as Sergeant Ritchie, I would refer you to an older post on another local blog. There are several things about this post that are worth mentioning.
First of all, you might notice that while my comment was focused on FWPD, Dan’s post was actually complaining about FWFD. I have conceded from the beginning that my anger and frustration with the situation in my neighborhood often causes me to misunderstand the situation. In this particular case, it appears that my anger at FWPD was so strong that I actually read their name when it wasn’t even there.
Interestingly though, the person who responded as Jim Ritchie drew my attention as he seemed to me to be defending the poor actions of what I thought was FWPD. So I did a little investigating and came to the conclusion that this person was probably Sergeant James Ritchie of FWPD. I had never met Sergeant Ritchie before, and I had no idea where he fell within the FWPD hierarchy, but I unloaded on him as though The Chief of Police himself was listening.
There is nothing more frustrating than being ignored. Yet it seems to be the basic policy of FWPD to either ignore or lie about a problem, rather than to engage it openly and honestly. So here I was, sharing a public forum with an FWPD officer, and I was not going to let him off the hook easily. My intention was to word my comment in a manner that Challenged Jim Ritchie to respond, in order to defend the honor of FWPD. And while readers of that blog thread may have determined that his lack of a response indicated a lack of honor, that is actually very far from the truth.
So, my relationship and communication with Sergeant Ritchie during the past six months will be the focus of my next post.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)