All of that offensive graffiti at Riverview Park is history. Nice work! Thank you to the City and to others that helped make it happen. Working together, we can make sure that Benicia remains a great place to live.
- Ross Sagun
SAFE NEIGHBORHOODS BENICIA- Dedicated to the preservation and improvement of the quality of life in our hometown, Benicia, California, through better crime prevention and community involvement. Identify the problems, strategize, prioritize, execute, and evaluate. Eliminate roadblocks to progress. We are all part of the solution; residents, the Benicia Police Department, the Benicia City Council, all of us. If we prioritize it, we can solve it. This is your city, your home…protect it.
SANTA ROSA — Graffiti tends to tick people off, but for John Rose it goes much deeper.
The Aussie bird-dogs it everywhere his eyes land — on soundwalls, traffic signs, the side of a building far across a shopping center parking lot.
"I cannot go anywhere without seeing graffiti. It's an illness. It's incurable," he said. "I hate graffiti with a vengeance. I'll do anything to get rid of this waste of time and blight that's devaluing our properties."
Rose gladly shares his angry passion, not to mention his foolproof three-step process to get rid of it — modestly named "World's Best Graffiti Removal System."
Which is why he joined dozens of anti-graffiti arms merchants this week at a hotel conference center where 300 officials from California and beyond shared strategies on a problem they say is growing in many cities, with potentially violent consequences.
Among them were police or city officials from across the East Bay, including Antioch, Richmond, Union City and Alameda County.
The two-day conference showcased some notably sophisticated, and in some cases chemically potent, approaches to graffiti and etching in window glass. Aggressive agencies are deploying GPS tracking systems, cameras triggered by motion sensors, and spray-on coatings to make graffiti removal easier.
In some areas, including Southern California, enforcement sweeps have led to jail time and prison sentences as high as two
Under the "broken window theory" of crime prevention, swiftly erasing eyesores such as graffiti discourages more of it and removes what some criminals view as an invitation for more serious trouble in a neighborhood.
"If you leave it up, you're giving up," said Fresno police Sgt. Todd Miller. He and others said the stakes have grown. Tagging, or spray-painting an identifying mark, can often prompt violent clashes, they said. Miller credited graffiti as the spark for two murders and a stabbing in his city in the past month.
Deputies in an Alameda County Sheriff's Office anti-graffiti program agreed, though they had not linked murders to graffiti. "We can attribute violent crime to graffiti. It's all territorial. They're marking spots," said Deputy Paul Liskey. "It increases tensions."
Liskey said it takes coordination among agencies and neighbors, but budget woes have hampered the county's ability to quickly remove graffiti.
Experts say gangs spray just a small fraction of graffiti, and more often it's individual "wannabe" taggers or "street teams" that may later morph into gangs. One police officer called a seeming lack of options for kids the biggest indicator in cities where the problem is rising.
"They're looking for fame, for recognition," said Kenneth Davis, a graffiti and gang specialist in Yonkers, N.Y. "That's a flag there's something going wrong in the household."
Richmond recently launched an anti-graffiti initiative, adding removal crews and enlisting residents across the city. The problem is particularly nettlesome in the city's Iron Triangle, Coronado and Belding Woods neighborhoods, said Trina Jackson, who coordinates the new program.
Jackson said she arrived at the conference anxious to hear how other cities use restitution — forcing taggers to pay for the damage — as a deterrent. "If the kids know they'll be penalized, that'll make a difference," she said. "Right now, they're getting away with it."
Part of the battle, experts said, is commitment from city officials, prosecutors, judges and community members. Some tread lightly because the taggers are juveniles, the crime seems relatively light and because, in some cases, they don't want to be seen as stifling the creativity of some young graffiti artists.
In Union City, Wayne Cruz fights a never ending battle. As the city's lone "graffiti buster," he drives around in a 16-foot trailer from 7 a.m. until 3 p.m. each day, color-matching paint and covering up graffiti.
Sprays and surveillance can help, said Cruz, but there's nothing like meeting taggers and letting them know the deal: They spray, he takes away.
"I have an 800 number (for graffiti reports)," he said. "Taggers are actually calling now, saying 'Hey, someone tagged my wall.'"
By THOMAS WATKINS
LOS ANGELES (AP) — One man got stabbed. Another got shot in the chest. A 6-year-old boy was temporarily blinded when he was spray-painted in the face.
And they were the lucky ones among those who have had run-ins with graffiti "crews," or gangs.
Over the past 2 1/2 years in Southern California, three people have been killed after trying to stop graffiti vandals in the act. A fourth died after being shot while watching a confrontation between crews in a park.
"We have seen a marked increase in these graffiti-tagging gangs taking to weapons and fighting to protect their walls, their territory, their name," said Los Angeles County sheriff's Lt. Robert Rifkin.
Los Angeles County has battled graffiti for decades, spending $30 million a year to paint over or clean up the emblems, names and other images spray-painted on stores, concrete-lined riverbeds, rail lines, phone booths, buses, even police cars. On Wednesday, Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger signed a law requiring convicted graffiti vandals to remove their scrawl.
For some taggers, protecting their work is akin to defending their names and their honor.
"If we see someone calling the police, then we target them," said Mario Garcia, 20, who describes himself as a former tagger trying to become a professional artist. "You are trying to stop me from what I live, what I believe in and what I breathe? We are not going to let no one get in the way."
Workers who remove the graffiti say they take caution if they find a crew at work. They wait until the taggers leave before cleaning up.
"We won't say anything to them," said Rogelio Flores, whose company Graffiti Busters contracts with Los Angeles to blast away the markings with high-pressure hoses. "We don't know what kind of weapons they have."
Police tell residents to resist the urge to confront graffiti crews.
"It's not worth the risk," Rifkin said. "Take a deep breath, back off and call law enforcement."
Some of the violence has been between rival crews, which are increasingly acting like street gangs. And some of the bloodshed has involved real street gangs that mark their turf with their names or emblems. But some of the victims have been innocents.
In an attack last month, two youths spray-painted the face and body of the 6-year-old boy who spotted them scribbling gang signs on a wall near Compton. The boy recovered from chemical burns to his eyes.
On the same day, a 51-year-old auto mechanic was shot in the chest in Los Angeles when he confronted two suspected gang members painting the wall of his shop.
Another man, Michael Lartundo, 26, was stabbed in the hand and arm after yelling at a group of graffiti vandals scrawling on a wall in March behind his brother's house in suburban Whittier.
"I just told them it ain't right," Lartundo recalled. "I said, 'If you are going to write on the wall, write on your own wall.'"
The most recent attack occurred July 15, when a 16-year-old boy was shot and killed after rival graffiti crews converged on a Los Angeles park for a fight. The victim was in a crowd of onlookers.
Last August, Maria Hicks, 58, was shot in the head and died after flashing her headlights and honking at a teenager spray-painting a wall near her home in Pico Rivera, a blue-collar suburb east of Los Angeles. Four people have been charged with murder.
Ten days after Hicks died, Seutatia Tausili, 65, was fatally shot and her grandson wounded when he told taggers to stop vandalizing a trash can outside their home in Hesperia in San Bernardino County. Three men were charged with murder.
Robert Whitehead was shot to death in 2006 in the Los Angeles County area of Valinda when he tried to keep taggers from marking a neighbor's garage. Investigators arrested one man with alleged ties to the Mexican Mafia, a prison gang.
Artist Dartagnan Curiel, 31, said he used to scrawl graffiti and grew sick of the violence. He now paints murals with positive messages as a way to speak out against the bloodshed in his Los Angeles neighborhood and to encourage graffiti vandals and gang members to lay down their arms.
"Why would you want to put spray paint on a kid's face?" he says. "We live in the same community. We are all in this hellhole together."
Every time ...and I return home in the evening, we are pretty shocked, slowing to about 10 mph on P Street to keep our car suspension from being further damaged (both our cars now make strange sounds in the rear suspension). We think -- What sort of town do we have here? Don't we have any pride? What must visitors think of us? (We had better take them the other way to 2nd Street and turn at McDonald's!) For some reason, our city can't take care of even our most basic needs. - GC
I am in complete agreements with these sentiments about P Street. I think we should follow up with something strong -- a petition or whatever. Whoever takes charge, you can count on my support. - GC
In regards to the concerns expressed by my neighbor, Ross Sagun, it is clear to me who is being targeted here. Our United States Department of Justice should be made aware of this atrocity, especially so close to a United States of America Presidential election. |