Two views of the Community Action Policing (CAP) program in Fairview that we reported last month were at least partially at odds. Community council president Sharon Chamard said life was better in a neighborhood that had long suffered public drunkenness and open air markets for prostitution and drugs.
Longtime resident Fred Meyer said he was discouraged. On street corners near his home, the drug trade still flourished and a revolving-door justice system kept spinning offenders back out on Fairview's streets.
According to Lt. Garry Gilliam, who runs the CAP program in Fairview for the Anchorage Police Department, they're both right.
"It's far better than it was a year ago," he said Monday.
At the same time, he said he understood the frustrations of Fred and Justina Meyer, who live on the corner on East 13th and Hyder.
"If I was living on that corner, I'd be calling every half-hour myself," Gilliam said.
So what's the story?
First, cleaning up a neighborhood beset by public drunkenness, drug and sex trades isn't an overnight process. Much as the fantasy might appeal, you can't just round up the usual suspects, toss them in jail and throw away the key. Two crackheads standing on a street corner may be as criminal as they come, but standing on a street corner is not a crime.
Second, Lt. Gilliam makes no bones about the fact that the criminal justice system is overwhelmed. He mentions one criminal arrested and convicted for burglary who was out of jail in a few weeks. That's the kind of weak justice that wears out good citizens like the Meyers. That's the kind of weak justice that emboldens criminals.
But Lt. Gilliam said that knowledge has prompted the CAP team -- currently down to just two officers -- to try different approaches.
They've worked on landlords, invoking a recent municipal ordinance that fines property owners for excessive police calls. The goal -- make it tougher on drug dealers and pimps to operate easily by making it more expensive for landlords to ignore their tenants' trade.
Lt. Gilliam also cited the example of a man running drugs and prostitution out of an abandoned van in an alley. Neighbors complained. Police didn't catch him in the act, but they did impound the vehicle. That drove the bad businessman out of the neighborhood and restored some domestic tranquility.
Lt. Gilliam said that man turned up in Muldoon, where more complaints led police to pay him a call. He hasn't been heard from since.
An official assessment of CAP in Fairview is due later this winter. Based on what he knows at street level, Lt. Gilliam has good advice for the city: "Make the investment."
Don't falter in police hiring, police in the schools, community policing and substance abuse treatment. And make sure Lt. Gilliam's CAP force has more officers. Two is not enough for intense policing.
We also need to make investments in justice and corrections systems that impose real consequences on repeat offenders. But prevention is better.
Over time, the goal should be to cool even the hot corners like 13th and Hyder, so that people like the Meyers can say the program has worked.
BOTTOM LINE: Cleaning up a neighborhood takes time. City should stick with it in Fairview.
Cold 50
It was nothing like the crowds for the Fourth of July.
Twenty below curtailed the turnout for the 50th anniversary of statehood celebration at the Eagle River Lions Park on Saturday evening. Rep. Bill Stoltze said they'd ordered hot dogs, coffee and hot chocolate for a few thousand people. Instead they got a few hundred. He figured on plenty of hot dogs left over for the Food Bank.
Spirits weren't frozen. Well-bundled attendees gave warm welcomes to Lee Jordan, Stoltze and Gov. Sarah Palin. Mittens and gloves muffled applause. I took my hat off for the anthem and was glad Francis Scott Key wrote short. Subzero rushed the festivities; the governor is a draw but she had to pull us from the bonfire, with its radiant heat and stream of sparks. All the speakers and singers were fine, but the microphone sputtered. All the politicians had mercy and spoke briefly; they finished early, before the pyrotechnicians were ready.
This is the way to watch fireworks, with a blaze at your back and sons silhouetted before you. Rip, crackle and boom; Joe covered his ears; Nick said the yellow ones were the loudest. After the finale we went inside, talked with a few folks in the thinning crowd. I rubbed warmth into Joe's toes. Heedless of wet spots on the floor, he padded over to a long table and looked up at a cadet from the Alaska Military Youth Academy, who helped him get a cup of hot chocolate.
Only a few people remained at the restoked fire where we stopped for a last wave of heat before leaving. Nick struck a pose of exultation before the flames; mama caught him on camera and that should be our Alaska 50th commemorative shot. Suitable for framing. Or at least e-mailing to relatives.
Joe played with a T-ball buddy named Zachary in light and shadow on snow mounds near the fire. Steam from snowmelt rose at its edges. On this night, it only seemed right to find the flag in the sky. The Big Dipper was dim compared to the waxing moon and the evening star, but the front two stars of the cup were enough to find the North Star.
We're still in. Now let's go home.
-- Frank Gerjevic