Pubdate: Sat, 29 Sep 2007 Source: Oregonian, The (Portland, OR) Copyright: 2007 The Oregonian Contact: http://www.oregonlive.com/oregonian/ Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/324 Author:Andy Dworkin, the Oregonian Staff Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/find?217 (Drug-Free Zones) Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/pot.htm (Marijuana) Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/coke.htm (Cocaine) Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/heroin.htm (Heroin) Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/rehab.htm (Treatment) EXPIRING DRUG-FREE ZONES END A CITY ERA Neighborhoods - Residents Have Mixed Feelings About the Demise of the Controversial Exclusion Policy Albert Johnson cuts through an alley near Northeast Simpson and MLK. Police say the area is a waiting room for junkies, though just blocks from the police precinct and in the heart of one of Portland's expiring "drug-free zones." Johnson pleaded guilty a year ago to possessing heroin. He became one of the hundreds of Portlanders to get banned from the city's drug-free zones. That meant he could only travel his neighborhood to get to work, home or necessary social services, not to visit friends, buy socks or grab a beer. Officer Mark Zylawy stops his cruiser. Johnson says he's just walking home. Zylawy tells him the drug exclusion laws are ending. "They're going away? Cool," says Johnson, 63. The exclusion made it hard to move around, Johnson says. On the other hand, he used less heroin after his exclusion, though he still uses "now and then." And he tells Zylawy the neighborhood may be safer for the law: "I'm for it." Johnson's split feelings mirror a city divided on its 15-year experiment to bar people arrested for open drug and prostitution crimes from wandering through big parts of the city for 90 days (one year after a conviction). Neighborhood activists pushed the exclusion ideas, tired of seeing drugs dealt on downtown and inner eastside streets. Business groups and cops praised the law, and other cities copied it. Civil rights advocates attacked it as racist and unconstitutional, since no conviction was needed to exclude someone. Though narrowed over the years, the law survived dozens of court challenges and political battles until a report released this week showed police disproportionately banned African Americans from drug zones. Mayor Tom Potter -- who was police chief when the law began -- declared it dead. It will end Sunday. In Northeast Portland and other drug zones, the law touched daily life in ways so subtle and complex that the effect of its demise is hard to estimate. Police say it was one tool to limit criminals' freedom to buy and sell drugs, helping curb crime and maybe push some addicts into rehab. Opponents say the law didn't fix the addiction that drives drug use, and indeed, officers repeatedly arrest the same people for drug crimes and trespassing, the charge for entering a zone while excluded. And critics say the law made people with arrest records afraid to take part in their communities or engage police. But even critics admit drug dealing is down since the law's debut, though no one knows how big a role the zones played. "It's hard to calculate the impact it had over the long term," says Police Chief Rosie Sizer. Sizer was a sergeant in Old Town when the law passed and drug dealing on street corners was brazen. The levels are down since then, she says, but she doesn't know how much of that is due to the drug zones or other changes. Economic improvements in the Pearl and Northeast Portland are pushing drug trade into outer East Portland, for instance. And Sizer says drug dealers are adopting "a new business model" using cell phones and pagers to set up purchases in easily moved locations. That makes the zones, with their focus on open-air neighborhood drug markets, less useful. Still, the end of the zones will probably have a big impact on Northeast Portland, where police averaged more than one new exclusion a day. "Most people in Northeast, especially most African Americans, knew someone who had been excluded," says Jo Ann Bowman, a Northeast resident and executive director of Oregon Action, a social justice charity that opposed the law. "What you were doing was excluding people from their community, from going to their places of worship, from going to community services," Bowman says. In Bowman's neighborhood, people are ambivalent about the law's expiration. Marvin Hopkins, whom Zylawy arrested in 2005 for selling marijuana, says he's sad to see the zones end. "Sometimes it works for the bad, but sometimes it works for the good," Hopkins says. Police sometimes stop excluded people who are causing no real problems, he says, but also use the law to limit the trouble criminals cause. "A lot of people are happy about it" ending, says Carl Campbell, 45. "They go to jail and come right back anyway." Campbell says he's "been in jail a hundred-some times" on cocaine charges and more and has been excluded 40 or 50 times from the North Portland zone. Zylawy often dealt with people like Campbell, the "frequent fliers" in what he calls the "no-fly zone." The officer, who has patrolled Northeast Portland for 16 years, drives slowly through the heart of the North drug-free zone, steering with his left hand and typing names into a computer with his right, to see who has warrants or exclusions. Zylawy not only knows suspects' names by heart, he also has their birth dates memorized. What good are the drug zones, if these same criminals keep coming around? Plenty, says Zylawy, who averages about one exclusion each workday. Before the law, hordes of addicts wandered around causing trouble and "you had no legal authority to get them off the street." The exclusion law "helps us get some of the people gone who need to be gone at that given moment," he says. Sizer notes that in 2005, when an older version of the law expired, police saw "an immediate influx of people who had been excluded for drug activities." She fears an accompanying increase in thefts and violent crime may happen in the zones. That worries Howard Weiner, owner of Cal Skate Skateboards in Old Town and public safety co-chairman of the Old Town-Chinatown Neighborhood Association. More users needing a fix means more shoplifting, Weiner says. "I don't know how many times we've chased somebody down the street because they took two T-shirts or a sweat shirt, because they just need $5 or $10," he says. Politicians and police want to replace the exclusion law with an increase in jail space and money for addiction treatment. That would offer drug criminals a choice: a jail bed or a treatment bed, says City Commissioner Randy Leonard, a foe of the exclusion zones who proposed the new plan. But the details for the new treatment-focused plan aren't set yet. Sizer and Weiner both say that the zones' demise may give the clearest picture of their impact over 15 years. "One of the things I would advocate for is to do analysis of the data six months from now," Weiner says. - --- MAP posted-by: Richard Lake