Prior to moving into this house which is 2 blocks off of MLK, we lived in some apartments ... 2 blocks off of MLK. One of the "funny" things we've noticed since moving in is that everyone we've met here wants to tell us how bad it is with all the transients, drug deals, slum lords, and ne'er-do-wells. We brush it off because it's actually a step up from where we were. After living there for a couple of years I observed a few patterns which I wanted to write down before they all fade into distant hazy memory. These aren't meant to be complete or to even tell a coherent story about the place, just things I noticed over time.
When we first moved in, we met K, a friendly black guy who lived in the apartment next to us who wore a neck beard and a bald head. A nice person who took the time to meet us and occasionally we'd stop to talk. Unfortunately K was mixed up with the dealing. Often times, coming home we'd have to steer around a group of half a dozen men dressed in their baggies and timberland wear, with K in the middle. These weren't church friends having a barbecue, there wasn't much collegiality, guys wore their business faces. Nobody ever caused a problem for us directly, but there were frequent fights and arguments. One time after putting kids to bed, Lisa and I heard yelling out front. Looking out, we saw two men fighting, with K in the middle trying to break them apart. One was obviously getting the worse of the exchange, and at one point he was on all fours trying to shake off the punch that put him there, then got kicked so hard in the face it stood him back up. Crazy.
I'm not sure what K's connection with the crack house was, but I'd see him over there all the time, hanging out in front. I wasn't even sure that he was involved until after about 6 months or so, K and family (wife? and 3 girls) were evicted. I'm unsure what the pretense for the eviction was, but the aftermath in the street was fascinating.
A few days after leaving, half a dozen new faces appeared in the street. Loud ostentatious people, usually in groups of 2-3. All black. (In fact, in this story, everyone I saw was black. The only non-black people I saw were some of the junkies.) This lasted for a week or two, then the new people stopped coming around. What confused me though, was that the "staff" at the crack house remained the same. What vacuum did K's eviction create? Where did those new dealers come from and how were they connected to the crack house? The upside was that there were no more people coming onto apartment property, most traffic shifted across the street.
The crack house itself had 2 people I came to recognize. One was an older guy who lived there. The other I called Prop Joe (after a character he reminded me of from The Wire) who was the center of all action. Prop Joe was about 6 feet tall, wore a long black leather jacket, and was always in the middle of every crowd. As far as I could tell he rarely did the direct dealing, he'd have others do that for him.
At about 3 in the afternoon each weekday the first crackheads would appear in the neighborhood. They'd usually stay out of sight. They'd go down alleys, camp out on steps and between buildings. Always keeping a lookout, frequently peering at the crackhouse, but staying in places where they couldn't be seen by anybody looking out from there. As the afternoon wore on, they'd get more active and more obvious. Their numbers would steadily grow. One time in the summer I counted 12 people who were milling around the streets trying to be invisible.
Then between 5 and 6pm, usually closer to 5, Prop Joe would come out of the house, joined shortly after by a second or third helper. He'd either sit on the steps or a folding chair at the bottom of the stairs, and the crackhead groups would each send a gofer to go make the deal.
Most of their customers would come on foot, but about a third would drive up. That was curious to me because I sometimes saw people park on the street a block away (in front of the tall brick apartment buildings across from the hilltop Safeway) and walk to the house. One memorable vehicle was a bright orange and white SUV with rims and the words "Peel This" on the back window. As it happens, that vehicle is parked about a block from my new house.
And so it would go until the early hours of the morning. Although I might add that as the night progressed, less of the activity happened directly in front of the crackhouse. Rather, a group of 3-5 would migrate down the sidewalk a bit.
I'd leave for work at 5am and it was rare when I didn't see people. There was some sort of connection with a group working MLK and 14th. There was usually a group standing in the shadows of the abortion mill there (called Cedar Rivers, I think) who I often saw walking to the crackhouse or back.
In a way, I feel for those guys. Anyone you can see working the street is literally at the bottom. They aren't making much money, they're working long hours standing, and it can be bitter cold at night. Plus you're constantly dealing with crackheads who are the most retarded people on earth. Most of them weren't starting with a full deck and the drugs just took them downhill from there. It's shitty work.
In 2010, I forget the date, summer I think, there was a big bust on the place. It was later in the evening. Lisa and I were at the kitchen table when one of us observed that that siren sounded awfully close. Looking out at the assorted lights, it was if the neighborhood were throwing a rave. I counted 12 squad cars that I could make eyes on. I watched a couple of guys get put into cars and taken away.
The next day business was slow, but a few days afterward it looked to be back to normal. I even saw Prop Joe again. But the resurgence only lasted a short time, within weeks Prop Joe was gone and the crackhouse looked leaderless.
Again, an influx of new faces, new crews. Brash loud bright. No violence. I wonder if there is some sort of gang leadership which chooses which crew to send to a new area, or if it's rather like natural selection within a free market. Do conditions favor and/or attract guys with those characteristics? Either way, things bounced along. It settled down to a few regulars. There was mostly street dealing now. The house still had occupants and people still came and went with regularity, everything was just smaller.
Come spring, business picked up. I don't think Prop Joe ever came back, but the system returned. The street crews receded and a new cast of characters sprang up. There were a few times I wished for a gun or a club- when a dealer or junkie would come onto our property. Fortunately it didn't happen much.
Last summer, around July/August there was renewed police presence. Nothing as dramatic as before, just squad cars parked on the curb in front of the house, and more frequent patrols. Then one day the front yard was filled with crappy old furniture, boxes, and clothing. Someone got evicted.
By the time we found and bought this house, and were planning our move, it looked like all drug activity had died. Which brings me to what I see in our new neighborhood, but I'll put that into a different post.
