Pubdate: Thu, 5 Mar 1998
Source: New York Times (NY)
Author: Evelyn Nieves
Contact:  http://www.nytimes.com/

COMMENTARY: A BOULEVARD LEADS TO DRUGS AND DEATH

NEWARK, N.J. -- After all that's happened, the petty drug dealers are still
hanging out on West Runyon Street and Irvine Turner Boulevard, waiting for
the suburban junkies.

On Wednesday afternoon, two stood in front of the deli across from the
Belmont-Runyon Elementary School as children played double Dutch and tag
behind a 6-foot chain link fence.

Two more, in identical Green Bay Packers jackets, stationed themselves
halfway down the block. They were leaning against a "No Loitering:
Violators will be Prosecuted" sign in the window of Rodriguez Supermarket.
When a police car passed, they didn't bother to pretend not to notice. They
looked at the cruiser and cracked up, doubling over and covering their
mouths with their hands.

Everything was supposed to change after last March, when 8-year-old Terrell
James was hit by a speeding car as he crossed Irvine Turner Boulevard on
his way to Belmont-Runyon's playground.

The accident focused attention on several longstanding problems. The
hit-and-run driver, Daniel Tonkovich, 18, was one of the neighborhood's
many unwelcome out-of-towners. He had come to Newark from the shore town of
Toms River, for the same reason as so many other visitors -- to buy drugs.
Then, like the others, he was zooming home, yards away from the Interstate
78 access ramp, when he ran into Terrell.

Citizens, who had complained for years that the school was practically on
the Route 78 ramp, demanded that the school be relocated, that the ramp be
widened, that the drug dealers be swept off the streets. Officials agreed.
The state Department of Transportation allocated $10 million toward a new
school building and a study of plans for a wider ramp. The Newark police
set up roadblocks to trip up speeding drivers and stepped up drug sweeps.
Meanwhile, Tonkovich, according to his family, became a changed man. Jolted
by Terrell's death, he swore to come clean. He entered a rehabilitation
program and wrote a pamphlet on teen-age drug use full of passages like
this one: "Never in my strangest nightmares did I ever think this would
happen to my family or myself. It's a very hard thing to deal with, knowing
that an 8-year-old child lost his life because of me. If I am convicted of
all the charges brought against me I could spend a very long time in
prison. Don't think that it can't happen again. It can and it will." Those
last words sound almost prophetic. Despite all the promises and plans, it
seems as if Terrell's death has changed very little. E.J. Miranda, a
spokesman for the Newark schools, said that plans to relocate the
Belmont-Runyon School are proceeding. This week, a committee of city,
school and community leaders is to look at architects' proposals for a
building scheduled to open in September 1999.

Meanwhile, the school is still open. The children still play in the yard.
The cars still plow through Irvine Turner Boulevard -- on Wednesday, the
average speed seemed to be about 20 miles greater than the 30 mile-per-hour
limit -- on their way to the Route 78 ramp.

And, of course, the drug dealers still wait for their customers, who must
still be buying. Otherwise, there would be no reason for the sellers to
risk the police heat and the neighborhood's boiling resentment. On
Wednesday, the two dealers at the corner of Irvine Turner Boulevard and
West Runyon Street made no secret of their purpose. It was about 55
degrees, but they were wearing bulky down coats (the better to stash their
goods) and wool ski caps (to obscure their looks). They smiled broadly and
gave two thumbs up to a reporter circling the block, maybe thinking this
was a potential customer.

Residents interviewed said there are not as many street-level dealers as
there used to be. But no one wanted to be quoted about the situation. "Now
is not the time to be talking," said an elderly woman who didn't want her
name printed. "At first, everyone was so shocked by the little boy's death.
Now, things are almost like they used to be. The drugs -- they're winning."
Heroin certainly beat Tonkovich to the finish. On Sunday afternoon, just
two weeks before he was to stand trial for aggravated manslaughter in
Terrell's death, he was found dead of an overdose in his parents' home, a
needle by his side. He had been battling the addiction, but his family and
friends still could not believe the drugs won. Not when he had been working
out a plea deal with prosecutors, and he and his girlfriend were expecting
their first child.