Pubdate: Sun, 23 Jun 2002
Source: Cincinnati Enquirer (OH)
Copyright: 2002 The Cincinnati Enquirer
Contact:  http://enquirer.com/today/
Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/86
Author: Peter Bronson

DOPE FIENDS SEIZING THE DAY IN MADISONVILLE

We were standing on the sidewalk, talking about what it's like to live next 
door to a crack house.

"The drugs are pretty blatant," said Kathy Garrison, vice president of the 
local community council.

"Broad-daylight blatant," corrected Pat Markley, a neighbor.

"They used to hide," added Anne Sheckles, who says her house is like a 
prison surrounded by walls of fear. "Now they stick their heads in my car 
window and ask what I want, and if I say no, they say "Get out of here, then.'"

Crack-Head Neighbors

This is not Over-the-Rhine or the lawless zone in Avondale. It's happening 
on a shady, tree-lined street with neat lawns and modest, carefully 
preserved older homes in Madisonville.

Mrs. Sheckles described the filth and threats she sees every day outside 
her remodeled 1928 home on Erie. "I've had rocks thrown at me. I've been 
told they are going to poison my dog if I call the police."

She has picked up buckets of used drug syringes. She has raked discarded 
condoms from her bushes, then threw away the rake because some of her 
neighbors have AIDS and hepatitis.

"I'm tired of watching people get shot in my front yard. I'm tired of the 
murders within a block or two of my front door," she says. "I won't let my 
boys play in the front yard. I hear gunshots every single night. They call 
me "white b----' every time I step outside."

"We hear the same thing," Mrs. Markley and Mrs. Garrison said. And 
everything Mrs. Sheckles said is true, they added.

In videos and photographs taken by Mrs. Sheckles, the yard next door looks 
like an appliance graveyard. Rats have been spotted running from a 
dilapidated garage behind a red-painted brick house with dirty bedspreads 
for curtains.

These women put the "mad" in Madisonville. They have complained to the 
police until the cops know them by their angry voices. The police are 
trying, Mrs. Markley says, "but there are just not enough cops. We've been 
told that there are often no more than six for all of District 2."

Which Way To "Baywatch"?

The women have counted 40 cars in a half-hour driving up a dead-end street 
off Erie. All those "lost" drivers were not looking for directions. They 
were looking for drugs.

And in the home videos, it's plain to see that drugs are easy to find. The 
"drug store" is open 24/7. Dope boys stand on the corner, pants pulled down 
below their butts, waving and whistling down passing cars.

"We see cab drivers, plumbers, business trucks and construction workers," 
Mrs. Sheckles said. "Half of the problem is the white people from out of 
our neighborhood. Fancy cars from Clermont County, Adams County, Indian Hill."

As if on cue, a HumVee -- the ultimate SUV -- pulled over to the curb. The 
window snaked down, and a bouncer at the wheel stared straight ahead as two 
Baywatch blondes asked the way to I-71. They looked like show girls -- and 
I don't mean Rockettes.

If Cincinnati could be X-rayed, this is where we would find a deadly 
malignant tumor that will spread unless it is removed.

If nothing is done, Mrs. Sheckles could be the courageous voice of 
Cincinnati's dark future. "I don't like my children seeing the things 
they're seeing," she said, "but who would buy my house? Who would want to 
live here?"
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MAP posted-by: Larry Stevens