Tag: Eastern District

[I just stumbled across this postfrom 2008 and rather liked it (if I do say so myself). I don’t really remember writing it. And since I don’t remember writing it, I figure you don’t remember reading it! So here it is again:]

A liquor store in Baltimore is being forced to close because a man was killed there and drug dealers congregate. I’m of mixed feelings. Liquor stores in the ghetto are hardly the most sympathetic businesses. But if they were all shut down, it’s not like the neighborhood’s problems would suddenly disappear.

It’s a shame there aren’t more locally run business in the ghetto. In many ways, the Eastern District is typical. Here’s a quick, perhaps inaccurate, and certainly unpolitically correct history of business life in the Eastern.

In the old days, or so I hear, many of the local businesses were run by Jewish people. At least that’s how the story is told on the street. Were they exploitive? Some think so. But, no, I don’t. Are allbusinesses exploitative? I don’t think so. Many of these Jews had grownup in the neighborhood. Many had stayed in the neighborhood when other whites fled. Yes, they were there to make money. But they also spoke English and hired locals to work in their stores. In hindsight, these were the good old days.

After the riots in the late 1960s, many of these store owners felt betrayed by the anger, left broke by the destruction, and realized that a little profit wasn’t worth their life. A lot of businesses packed up or closed for good.

Over the next 30 years, more businesses closed. And not an insignificant number of these after the owner got killed in a robbery.

Today there’s not much left. Monument St is still filled with stores. And there’s a excellent (black owned) produce store that deserves special mention (Leon’s Produce, 1001 N. Washington St.).

Other stores include laundromats, bars, Chinese takeout (called “yakamee” in Baltimore), and corner stores. The corner stores are now mostly run by Koreans (who are still referred to as “Chinamen”). If the store owners can’t afford a home in the suburbs, they may they live upstairs, in a sort of a castle-like fortress setup.

I can see the causes for resentment on both sides. At it’s worst, think L.A. riots and Koreans guarding their stores with guns. The store owners sit all day behind plexiglas selling overpriced crap. Many don’t speak English. Most hate their customers. And because they’re behind glass and won’t come out, they can’t control what goes on in the lobby of their own store. And unlike the old days, these store owners, by and large, couldn’t care less about the well being of the neighborhood. Still, and this is important to remember, the bigger problem in the neighborhood is too fewstores, not bad store owners. Besides it’s not easy to run a business in the ghetto. That’s why so few people do it. I wouldn’t. If running a store in the ghetto were such an easy way to make money, why don’t you do it?

Now I don’t know Mr. Yim, the owner of the closed liquor store. But my guess is 1) he felt helpless to control what went on in and around his store, 2) he washelpless to control what went on in and around his store, and 3) he didn’t really care as long as his 1,000 daily customers kept giving him money so he and his family could survive.

From the story: “More than 300 residents signed a petition in the spring asking the city liquor board not to renew the store’s license…. ‘With those doors locked, [the drug dealers] don’t have a place to hide anymore.’”

But here’s the problem: with the doors locked, the drug dealers willstill have places to hide. Drug dealers don’t want legitimate stores. Business owners are a pain in their ass. Business don’t want drug dealers scaring customers. Businesses call police… until eventually the business owner gives up.

For drug dealers, a vacant building is better for business than a store. Vacants don’t attract people who don’t want to buy drugs. Vacants don’t call police. Vacants are good places to hide your stash. You can run away from police through a vacant. You can party and fuck your girl in a vacant.

I was friends with a local man man who ran a corner laundromat. From behind the glass we’d drink coffee and talk about politics and race and I’d chuckle at the junkies who came in and paid 50 cents for a cup of sugar with a little coffee. The owner believed he was doing good. He was. If he closed, how would the old people on the block do their laundry? He was right. He also closed around 2pm because it was too dangerous after that.

His corner was a bad drug corner. The worst we had in Sector 2. And that’s saying a lot. For a while he called police because of drug dealing on his corner. When police pulled up, the dealers would run into his store (and cause trouble). After a while, police became convinced that hewas a drug dealer. Because whenever police pulled up, there were drug dealers in his store. There’s a certain logic to that, except it’s wrong.

As much as I can guarantee anything, I can guarantee that this man was not dealing drugs. But what was he to do? He stopped calling police and continued to yell at dealers when they came in his store. There’s nothing the dealers would have liked more than him closing for good. And that’s why it’s sad whenever a business closes. Every time a store closes, the drug dealers win. And by and large, the drug dealers have been winning a lot.

One of the nice things about being a police officer is you can explore places that normal people fear to tread (or would get arrested if found). Back in 2001, I wanted a good view to conduct surveillance of a drug corner. So I entered this vacant building. This block has since been torn down.

#1) 1900 Block of E Eager. 1906 E Eager is the third house (with awning) from Mr. George’s corner laundromat. Two short blocks North of Johns Hopkins Hospital, this corner (Wolfe and Eager) is one of the “hottest” (but hardly the only) drug corners in the neighborhood, heroin and crack are sold around the clock, rain or shine. Most of the customers are locals, but a conspicuous minority of whites drive in from the poor suburbs looking for the purer heroin found in the ghetto. This neighborhood, built around the turn of the century and featuring typical Baltimore rowhomes, formstone, and marble stoops, was all white until the 1950s, middle class until the 70s and 80s, now it is mostly vacant, all black, and very poor. Hopkins and city own most of the property. Hopkins has since torn down most of this area.

#2) The corner looks deserted. It is just 7 in the morning. But a few moments earlier, there were dozens of people roaming about. But a funny thing happens when you park a police car in the middle of the intersection, turn off the motor (otherwise the picture is blurry), and take a picture. People scatter. Note how everybody is walking away. I didn’t take in personally.

#3) Approaching the rear of 1906 E Eager from N Chapel St. I was looking for a location to observe drug sales on the corner and out of one house in particular.

#4) Most vacants are boarded up to prevent junkies from entering, or filled with too much trash and damage to let one safely enter. The rear entrance of 1906 E Eager is wide open. The first time, on official police business, I went in alone. The second time, to take pictures, I brought along a partner, just to be safe.

#5) The rear room on the first floor is what used to be the kitchen. In the northeast corner are old appliances, partially stripped and peeling lead paint, and remnants of alpine wallpaper.
#6) Another view of the alpine wallpaper.

#7) Looking southwest in the kitchen, a few more appliances.

#8) The southeast corner of the kitchen. Like almost all the metal, the iron stove top grates have long been sold for scrap.

#9) The front room is the living room. A TV and couch remain. Makes me think the home was occupied into the 1990s. The front door is on the right. It’s interesting to me that a big color TV, once somebody’s prized possession, is no longer worth anything.

#10) The front door is on the left. Vivid woodland wallpaper remains.

#11) Looking up the staircase between the rooms. One of the stairs is rotted through, but the rest are in pretty good shape. This is a typical staircase for a rowhome. It’s horrible for police. Often there’s no handrail, and you can easily be pushed down. At the top, suspects could be in either or both directions. They don’t teach you about this in the police academy.

#12) 2nd floor front room. Nice windows for surveillance of the dealers katty-corner across Wolfe St. Otherwise trash, some drug paraphernalia, a mattress against the wall, two pairs of shoes, and a nicely patterned linoleum floor remain.

#13) Looking East in the upstairs front room. A nice old heating grate, removed from the wall, hasn’t been taken to sell for scrap (or to an antique store in Fells Point). A small water bottle (nicely labeled “water”) is on the floor. This water would be mixed with heroin and heated with lighter in a metal bottle cap from a 40oz bottle of malt liquor. The mixture is then injected. The only thing in these pictures I manipulated is the water bottle. I turned it so I could photograph the word, “water.” I love how it’s neatly labeled.

#14) Rear room second floor. View looking rear from the stairs. Two layers of floor cover are visible, along with purple latex gloves, and a black tourniquet to make veins bulge for easier injection. An empty container of cornstarch is on the chair. Cornstarch can be put into empty crack vials and repackaged as “burn,” or fake drugs to sell for a quick buck, mostly to whites coming into the neighborhood. Some of these whites then call the police and tell us they were robbed (always of $10 or $20). They don’t get much sympathy. Locals would know not to buy from local junkies. But selling burn is not without risk as selling burn to the wrong person can get you beat up or killed.

#15) Looking towards the front in the rear room. Mirrors and black pride posters increase the positivity and create a much nicer overall environment. Tupac, Goodie Mob, and Q-Tip. An almost empty bottle of Pepto Bismal lies on the ground, showing that indigestion can strike anyone.

#16) A poster and broken clock on one wall is just of above the bottles of piss and cans of shit neatly kept in the corner. (Unfortunately my partner knocked over that door you see on the lower right corner, tipping everything over. I’m guessing the loose door was positioned for privacy. It spilled a lot of piss and really smelled really rank after that. We left the place worse than we found it. This wasn’t low-impact policing. Sorry.)

#17) A 2000 Sears poster celebrating Black History claiming it’s not just for February anymore: “Every family has a history. We celebrate yours every day, every year.” I don’t think this is what they had in mind.

#18) Bottles of old malt liquor bottles are filled with piss. I have no idea if any of the plumbing worked. Probably not, but it wouldn’t have surprised me if it did. Finding bottles of piss in people’s home was not uncommon. Next to the bottles is a free parenting magazine and a toy box.

#19) Another view of the main lounge and work area. Given the conditions, this is not where serious drug dealers do their work. This is a place for addicts to shoot up, relax, and scheme how to come up with their next $10 hit.

#20) A few chairs are set around a collection of empty crack vials. There are also more shoes. Why all the shoes?

#21) Looking closer, there are dozens of empty crack vials. Every color of the rainbow. The legal use for these vials in for perfumes and oils. The color of the cap on the vial often becomes a sort of brand name: red tops, blacks tops, or orange tops. Other good brand names: Uptown, Bodybag, Capone, and the more generic Ready Rock. Also on the floor are candles, cigarette butts, lighters (lots of them), tin foil, and bottle caps. Heroin and coke is an ever popular mix. John Belushi overdosed on it. Sugar, in the form of candy bars and tasty cakes, can take some of the edge of the beginnings of heroin withdrawal. Or so they say.

Notice that the cup being used as an ashtray is standing and in use. The shoes are lined up. Paper is on the floor. In this disorder, there is order. But it’s almost inevitable that at some point in time they’ll burn the place down. And when that happens, you don’t want to be the neighbor next door.

Update: Here’s what those first two pictures look like today (or the last time google drove through):

[If you just stumbled across this blog for the first time, consider buying one of my books: Cop in the Hood and In Defense of Flogging. Talk about great Father’s Day presents. Christmas, too!]