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Wednesday, August 05, 2009

On National Night Out, these St. Paul neighbors take back their street

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Anonymous Topic requested said...

Tad Vezner
Pioneer Press
Updated: 08/04/2009 11:49:03 PM CDT

Can a barbecue stop flying bullets?

Some St. Paul residents who've been a bit too close to the latter are willing to give the theory a go.

Danette Allrich-Osano didn't manage to get a street permit — so she organized a National Night Out event in a driveway a couple of doors down from her Case Avenue home in the Payne-Phalen neighborhood. A popcorn machine and root beer keg would hopefully turn it into a party.

"If nothing else, we'll be handing out popcorn to people walking by," Allrich-Osano said an hour before the Tuesday evening event, a little nervous. "If we get 10 people, well ... that'll be something."

Although she's lived there nine years, she and her immediate neighbors had never gotten involved in get-to-know-your-neighbors National Night Out events — billed by organizers as progressive crime-prevention tools.

This year, it was time.

On July 26, her neighborhood was spooked by a brazen shooting — some residents called it "the OK Corral" — in which one man was killed and two others were injured. A man walking his dog with his 5-year-old son was 10 feet away from the gun battle.

The wounded were arrested in connection with the incident, and the man who was killed, Roberto Flores, 38, had his funeral on the same day as Allrich-Osano's party.

"It's getting worse and worse, but we're still going on with our lives. I'm not letting go — I can't!" said Allrich-Osano, a nine-year neighborhood resident
who runs a day care center out of her house, a block or two from where the shooting took place at 472 Case Ave. "This is a great neighborhood, and good people live here."

It was sunny and warm Tuesday, and fliers had been laid out for a block or two. Allrich-Osano's neighbors heated up the grill and laid out hot dog buns. But would people come?

By 6 p.m., couples started wandering up. Ten, 20 ...

Some knew each other:

"We figured it was you," said 30-year resident Robin Kennedy to four-year neighbor Mikey Czarnik.

Apparently Czarnik — who often picks up trash in the neighborhood — had stopped by in the middle of the day to mow Kennedy's lawn, for the heck of it. He thought Kennedy wasn't home. She was.

"I thought, that's odd. My husband came home from work to mow the grass?"

"Well, why not?" Czarnik said.

"Next time you gotta get the back, too."

"Sure, it'll get uneven otherwise."

"We got a fertilizer spreader in the garage."

"Well, OK, then."

For years the East Side neighborhood's longtime residents have been talking about some sort of get-together — "I'd see a lot of people at meetings and things," Kennedy said, "but we've never really organized it and done it."

Kennedy had a few cookouts for friends at her place, but "the last few times we've had them ... there was a shooting and a domestic." It was uncanny, she said.

But on Tuesday, that seemed like a long time ago.

More people wandered up. Thirty. Fifty.

10:13 AM  
Anonymous story continued said...

"I recognize a lot of faces, but I'd have to see them on their front stoop," said Julie Hoeft, a nine-year resident manning the grill.

Bernice Sisson, 86, has lived in the neighborhood 57 years. "I don't get out that much. I get in the car, but I don't ... you know."

Pushing her walker into the crowd, she swore she didn't recognize much of anyone. That area with all the "activity," down the block, she can remember when you could go there to get a loaf of bread.

Then Allrich-Osano walked up and gave Sisson a hug. "You're Bernice — your granddaughters will come by," she tells Sisson.

"Some people know me before I know them, I guess," Sisson said.

Eventually, Jerry Klein, 67, who has lived in the neighborhood 37 years, wandered up.

"I've never been to any of these. My neighbor's the one that tells me everything. I keep a low profile. I don't get involved; I mind my own business," said Klein, who recognized only a face or two.

So will a community block party stop crime, Mr. Klein?

"I guess it can't hurt to know your neighbors, that's for sure. They watch for you. Protect you," Klein surmised, eventually taking a hot dog. "And you try to do the same."

Critics note there's not any evidence showing the National Night Out block parties — or the new Night to Unite offshoots, taking place in many Twin Cities suburbs — work.

But police say neighbors getting to know each other is always a good thing, even if it doesn't produce any quantifiable data.

"When they start knowing each other, they know the trends of the neighborhood, who lives there and doesn't. They know officer's names. ... Yes, it stops crime," said St. Paul night watch commander Todd Axtell, who made the Case Avenue party one of his first stops.

"I'm trying to pace myself on hot dogs tonight," he told an insistent Hoeft, manning the grill.

"It's communication that otherwise wouldn't have happened," said City Council Member Lee Helgen, also making the first of five or six stops. And when crime happens, "Now you're not getting one person calling, you're getting a series, which will generate the specialty (police) units."

Pam McCreary, St. Paul's crime prevention coordinator, said 275 block parties were scheduled in St. Paul alone this year.

Last year, the city ranked first in the nation for its size (the 100,000-299,000 bracket) in National Night Out participation, beating out roughly 60 contenders.

This year, there are fewer events — but McCreary claims that's actually a positive. She says people who met their neighbors last year are walking a little farther to meet new ones, and overall attendance will likely be the same.

"There's a lot of them who are joining (their events) together. ... That's kind of nice, people are going further down the block to meet people," McCreary said.

There was some controversy this year with National Night Out, after more than 70 cities and counties across the state cut ties with the event's national organizer and took part in Night to Unite.

The move was due in part to people learning that the head of Pennsylvania-based Town Watch earned more than $300,000 in salary and benefits in 2006, according to Deb Griffith, Night to Unite chairwoman.

Town Watch CEO Matt Peskin has said that he has since made changes after an independent consultant assessed the organization, such as implementing a new board of directors and cutting his pay by 20 percent this year.

The Night to Unite events took place Tuesday as well, in suburbs including South and West St. Paul, Apple Valley, Blaine, White Bear Lake, Stillwater and Woodbury.

But back on Case Avenue, residents were happy to take part, no matter the name. As daylight dimmed, the party was still in full swing. Kids sat on the curbs, holding hot dogs. Hoeft, at the grill, was going full tilt.

And nobody had heard a single bullet.

Tad Vezner can be reached at 651-228-5461.

10:14 AM  
Anonymous Nancy Ngo said...

RAMSEY COUNTY ALERTS

The Ramsey County sheriff's office took advantage of "Night to Unite" by getting people to sign up for its new text message program launched Tuesday.

The system is called Nixle and is used by police departments throughout the country. It allows residents of St. Paul and the Ramsey County suburbs to sign up for such information as crime alerts and advisories. The service is free, though standard text messaging rates apply.

For information or to sign up, go to nixle.com.

10:14 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

who's going to warn us when they Sheriff comes around? Is there a 'nixie' for that?

3:06 PM  

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