I just almost got arrested...(long, and about other peoples drug use)

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

Okay, sensational opening to a thread, but it is kinda true.

There are often junkies and ex junkies passing behind my garden. There is a rehab center down the street and they give out methadone as well. Junkies pass daily on a footpath with shrubs between the starion and the rehab center. The footpath lies between the railway and the backyards of the houses. And My backyard is one of those.

When the rehab center opened here, seven years ago, they promised the neighbourhood they would try to reduce trouble caused by “their clients”. They promised the same a few years later when the temporary center gor permanent and expanded. So far so good. Of course I would rather have an office there, but the rehab has to be somewhere and, from an urban planning perspective, the place is well chosen and out of the way.

But the junkies and their friends do cause trouble. I don’t mind the slurred arguments they have amongst themselves that I hear when I’m working in the back of my garden. I don’t mind them sitting in the sun and drinking beer all hobo-style in the nook, one house down. I even don’t mind the blackened tin foil squares that are a sign of heroine use.
But I do mind finding blood soaked tissues stuffed in my hedge, and I certainly hate the occasional bloody syringe or broken glass. (not with needles, thank god, the needle exchange program is a succes)

A month ago, so on a cold night in january on a Sunday morning, I found a matress in my back yard. It had been thrown over my fence, and near it I found remains of drug use (sooted tin foil) and a used condom. That DID piss me off. Those damned junkies had fucked and drugged and slept in MY garden, less than twenty feet from my ground level bedroom window and that of my little son.

So I wrote a letter with pictures to the rehab center and asked them what they could do about it. meanwhile, I got rid of the matress, (hauled it out of my garden, called the county to come and take it away. I informed the neighbourhood police officer. The county. I kept the foil and condom package in case anyone could take finger prints. But all to that I reported just for the records, because I they couuldn’t do anything after the fact.

I did want the rehab center to do something, though. I wrote them a letter and suggested they could hang a picture of the matress, with a caption along the lines of: “The pwners of this yard are pissed off, does anyone know who did this?”. Of course, no-one would come forward, but it would at least send a signal, no?

I got a letter back, and that letter pissed me off more then the matress had managed to do. It was one of those formal “please go away” letters, insincere-social- worker-style. . It said: “We regret you had this experience, but as we don’t know for sure that those responsible are our clients, we regret to have to inform you that we can’t do anything”.

:: twitch::

I replied that of they couldn’t do any factfinding, how was I supposed to do it for them, so that answer wasn’t very useful. And how about them hanging that note in the rehab center ?

To which the lady in charge replied in another letter: “We will take appropriate measures, we value a good rapport with our neighbours, and if you like, you can make an appointment during office hours with my secretary so I may explain this answer in person”.

This didn’t do much for me either, so I went down to the rehab center to see if I could find anyone to talk about it there. As soon as I cane in, my eye fell on a small white printed sign near the entrance. It said:

That sign was the straw that broke the camels back. Did these guys really, actually think such a sign would accomplish ANYTHING? Were they that dumb? Or that cynical? I almost wanted to say: Good idea! Why don’t you hang another sign next to it that says:

I had a short talk with the receptionist. When I told her about my idea for a sign, she said “No no, We can’t do that. Then everybody would have a picture of the trouble they’ve had up on that wall”. …She obviously didn’t realise what she had just said, and she also didn’t realise that actually seemed like a good idea to me.

Anyway, I went home to cool off. I also called the manager to politely say I accepted her offer for a person to person talk, and I made an appointment.

Three days later, I was still livid about the contrast between “we will take appropriate measures” and that stupid little sign.

I was so mad, in fact, that I toyed with the idea to make a cell phone picture of that sign. That sign was just so unbelievabbly bad.

To be continued…

2

So, after two more days, taking a picture of that sign still seemed like a good idea.

So I went in, and snapped a cell phone picture of that sign. No personnel, just that sign and the inch or so of glass around it. That got me an angry shout from the receptionist. I kind of defiantly told her what I had done and why. When we both started to repeat ourselves, I walked out and hopped on my bicycle. She had called security by then and the security office called after me to stop and explain. As I had come to explain, I complied. The security office (an obviously kindly man) asked me to come back inside and resume the talk. So I did, but me and the receptionist didn’t get much further. She demanded that I would delete that picture. I refused and said I would only do that if she gave me a photocopy of that sign. She said that it was illegal to take pictures on a private premise and should she call the cops?

Me: “If the cops didn’t come for that druggy matress in my garden, I doubt they will come for me. But go ahead and have me arrested.” Because by that point, I thought it would make a pretty interesting case and the media would have a field day.
The receptionist and me kept bitching at each other, while the kindly security officer asked if I had locked my bycicle because a client might steal it.

The receptionist really didn’t knwo what to do with me (and that I understood, because that was kind of my purpose) so she did what everyone in that rehab center always did if they were at al loss: she called Jack.

3

Once the addicts leave the treatment facility, the treatment facility has no control over their actions. Heck the addicts themselves don’t have control over at least part of their own actions or they wouldn’t be addicts.

That’s why many people try to stop such rehab treatment centers, halfway houses, and homeless shelters from opening in their neighborhoods. Our city is doing its best to prevent a homeless shelter from opening for this reason.

So you can’t depend on the rehab place to stop the problem. You can’t depend on the police to be around 24/7. Probably the best you can do it secure your property the best you can and protect yourself. Or move.

4

So you hate them more for putting up a sign , not worded as you would have it? At the same time angry that they won’t put a sign up for you?

Why can’t you just put up a sign of your own, on your back fence? Or a security light that comes on when someone comes in the yard? These types are easily spooked, sudden flood light exposure startles them and they usually flee. They cost $20 where I live and worked quite well when I was living next to a popular pub. Seems like money well spent to save so much anger and frustration, to me.

Barring that, ask your neighbours to take photos of the junk they deal with, and once you have several, write to a newspaper or tv station. Tell them you were a supporter who has changed your mind due to, photos here, and unresponsive ness from the centre. I don’t see how this won’t work.

At the very least it should lower your blood pressure!:smiley: Good Luck!

5

Jack, it turned out, was the rock everyone in the rehab center depended on. He had worked with addicts for twenty years and had seen it all. Several times. He was home, a block away but he came in when they called him.

Jack patiently explained that he had, in fact been told the Mattress Story right after my first letter, and he even had gone down to look at the situation. No-one had told me that, so I was pleasantly surprised to hear that. All I had gotten was that Please-go-away-letter by the management (who, incidentally, only visited that rehab a couple times a month)

Jack also convinced me that it was highly unlikely that the centers’ junkies or their friends had done it. They had homes in the city; why would they need to sleep in my back yard on a cold January Saturday night? No, this had Belgian Import Junkie
written all over it.

See, we live in a border town, in a city with fairly liberal drugs laws. About five miles from my house lies the border with belgium, and we have a fair amount of drug tourism. I knew that, of course. But my image was that the drug tourists just arrived by car, four of them crammed in a crappy old little French make car like a Renault. Such cars come in, drive to the coffee shop, The boys (it is usually teenagers) get out and buy their maximum allotted quatity of pot, and then they drive back to Belgium.

Jack told me yes, that is the Renault variety. But there’s also the train crowd. They come in, they party in the city center, drink themselves silly because they don’t have to drive home, spend all their money, and then… they miss the last train to Belgium. Dazed by alcohol, such people decide to walk from the station to the exit of the highway to Belgium. With a vague idea that maybe they can hitchhike. Or maybe that at least it gets them started on the road home. They obviously don’t think too clearly at that point. Anyway, the path from train to highway leads, indeed, *right behind my back yard. *

Okay, that explained everything and cooled me down right away. Yup: there was a reason everybody relied on Jack. Why hadn’t that stupid manager told me so right away?

So, unasked for, I deleted that picture. Jack thanked me and told me to come in if there was any more trouble. We parted on good terms. I even asked the receptionist if she was okay again and if we were okay again.

Then I got home. And my adrenaline level got to normal again.

Pffffffff…

6

I know. But they can teach them what is most troublesome. For instance, I heard that the first thing the addicts say when adressed, is a sullen “okay, we’ll move”.
But no -one minds them sitting in the sun in that path. People get angry about litter, and they get really furious about dangerous, bloody litter. That needs to be explained, obviously. And since these people are in rehab, and get some kind of resocialing therapy, you’d expect the rehab to actually be interested in explaining the them some real life examples of do’s and don’ts.

I hated them for putting up a sign that was so blatantly passive agressive "we’ve got to do something, but we won’t do something that might actually help.

And I did put up signs right after the mattress. I had initially wanted to put up a rather strongly worded sign, but my husband convinced me to word it as: " we will report all trouble to the rehab center."
And there is a city light that shines right in my back yard. I thougth about a movement sensitive light, but I have cats walking around at night and they would only set it off.

7

So where’d the mattress come from, then?

What I mean is, I can’t picture taking a train and partying all night while carting a mattress from one place to another. Nor buying one just to spend the night in a random yard.

8

Apparently, the mattress was trash illegally dumped by someone else in the street. The addicts saw that matress, carried it about fifty yards, and it allowed them to get safely over my barbed-wire fence.

9

You say it’s a “barbed-wire fence” but what kind of fence is this, exactly? I’m imagining something like this (6’ chain link with barbed wire at top).

Have you considered a bigger, opaque fence, like an 8’ privacy fence, maybe plant some trees and bushes along the bottom? It would certainly look nicer.

10

Great story, when you dashed away on your bike did do a burn out or anything?

I think you should make your own little sign and hang it on your garden wall!

11

I’m confused - why would anyone go through that much effort to get over barbed wire?

12

Well done, I’m so glad to hear that you’re feeling better about all this now.

Maybe you should consider a “You are being videotaped” sign? They even have fake cameras for cheap, you can tack up!

13

It is not a high fence at all. Most of it is a very nice old hedge. Part of that hedge had to be replanted two years ago. So the new part is made of pivet about five foot high and an old chainlink fence about the same height. Over that part, i have fastened some length of barbed wire to discourage anyone from climbing it.

14

And elbows, I even asked Jack if a camera would help. He said no, not with Belgian bums. They know that across the border between Belgium and the Netherlands, no Dutch cop will go after them even if they are caught on camera. I could see his point: many Dutch tourists feel the same in Belgium and will, for instance, laugh at a parking ticket because they know the belgian police is not coming over the border for a parking ticket.