Point Douglas getting rid of drug dealers one at a time

Point Douglas has over 100 anonymous people who keep an eye around their own homes, watching for crack dealers, gangs, ganglets and other stuff that degrades a community and report it on a phone line we call "Powerline." As a result, we have had our share of drug busts and gang arrests in partnership with the police and Manitoba Justice.

One of the neatest drug busts was when a team member phoned the Powerline to say there was a strange Hummer coming onto her street regularly. Licence plate number in hand, the Powerline co-ordinator called the police street crimes unit. "Give me the plate number please." The officer paused while the licence plate was run through the computer. "Very interesting. Could you let me know every time that Hummer comes into the community?"

Over the next couple of weeks, three residents on that street watched and reported time, address visited and who was in the Hummer. That info was immediately transferred to the police. Three weeks later, a major drug bust happened and an incipient Asian gang attempting to start up in Point Douglas was in jail, with a large cache of drugs, money and guns seized.

We know the police felt pretty good, but the three people who tracked the Hummer, ordinary people who wanted safe streets, felt pretty powerful, as did the rest of the Powerline crew when news of the arrests came out.

The Powerline did a similar intervention with police; this time it was a bunch of skinhead white guys in a Corvette. Big cocaine dealer, we were told. The fellow they were meeting with is now in jail and his network of crack dealers and sexually exploited girls dissolved.

We save the police for heavy lifting. If there are guns, knives or bear spray involved, or if the people are known gang members, we depend on the police.

Known gang members don't last very long in Point Douglas. We had a bunch take over a small apartment block. The neighbours, white and aboriginal, together decided they didn't like the illegal behaviour and started identifying what was going on. The landlord was contacted and soon all of them were evicted. It took four weeks.

Another small crack dealer started up recently. In the past we would have called Manitoba Justice's community safety act enforcers, who would have moved in and had them evicted. Now we are so sophisticated that we just called the landlord and told him he had someone who was couch-surfing at his place and selling crack. The next day the landlord called the tenant and told her to get the dealer out since he wasn't on the lease or he would have to evict the family. The crack dealer was out the door the next day.

We have discovered that eviction is more effective than a short jail sentence. The macho gangers brag about how tough they are in jail. They actually look pathetic wandering around with their little suitcase looking for someone who will let them couch-surf. We discovered this is also empowering mothers and girlfriends. They now have a way to say no to their ne'er-do-well dealer kid. Sorry, you can't stay here, you might get us evicted.

The Powerline got a phone call one night from a very scared aboriginal woman. "The Posse's moved in next door and he has a gun." The Powerline lady emailed the info to the police and 48 hours later the posse member was led out in handcuffs. A very proud young woman was heard telling her friends, "I got rid of the Posse."

The strangest event was our very own drug bust last week. A call came into the Powerline from an older gentleman. "There's crack in my house and I want it gone... " the Powerline lady responded hesitantly: "You want me to come and get it?"

"Yeah, aren't you trying to clean up our neighbourhood? My kid brought this stuff in and I want it out before he comes home."

We jumped into the car and the Powerline lady went into the house and came out with a baggy with about 10 rocks. I quickly called the police. After telling us we shouldn't be doing this and us explaining the person didn't want to call the police because he didn't want his son getting into trouble, we were directed to take the crack to the central station on Princess Street.

We parked the car and walked along with probably $500 worth of crack and presented ourselves to the young police officer sitting bored at the desk. He hadn't handled anything like this before but gratefully accepted our baggy.

We realized as we left that we hadn't asked for a receipt.

The principal of Norquay School was heard telling a community group that she had several new families move in with their kids because Point Douglas was such a safe neighbourhood.

We aren't crime-free yet. But we have more than 100 community volunteers -- Europeans, Métis and First Nations -- working together to show that a low-income area doesn't have to be a high-crime area. We figure we are closing in on being a low-crime area.

Sel Burrows is a Point Douglas activist.

Republished from the Winnipeg Free Press print edition July 19, 2009 A10