Retrieving the person in charge—a cowboy-hatted manager who looked to be in his 50s—the cop asked if he had heard of "Operation Lasting Peace" (he hadn't) and then explained that the cops-churches-citizens collaboration, started three years ago as a community-wide anti-violence initiative, was now being narrowed to focus on West Las Vegas. Generally bordered by Lake Mead Boulevard to the south, Carey Avenue to the north, Martin Luther King Boulevard to the west and Revere Street (or Interstate 15) to the east, the Westside, as it's known, has long had the reputation of a militarized ghetto. The manager listened intently to the cop and agreed to do what he could to help.
Days prior to this, the Rev. Robert Fowler of Victory Missionary Baptist Church convened law enforcers, clergy and community activists for a meeting to relaunch Operation Lasting Peace, which is modeled after the CeaseFire antiviolence program run by the Chicago Project for Violence Prevention.
Judging by recent stats, it's going to be an uphill battle.
As the cops chatted up management of the lodge, a group of patrons lamented a recent report ranking Nevada ninth in the nation in the number of blacks killed by violence. "There aren't a lot of blacks in Nevada to begin with," one man snapped, "and we're killing what few there are."
Based on supplemental FBI data from 2004 and released by the Violence Policy Center, Nevada's black homicide rate, 23.67 per 100,000, is nearly five times the overall national black homicide rate of 4.86 per. (Pennsylvania topped the list with a rate of 29.52, followed by Louisiana, Indiana and California. Missouri, Michigan, Maryland, Minnesota and Arizona rounded out the top 10.) According to the report, 45 blacks—39 men and six women—were killed last year; of those, 32 died in gun violence. Things ain't much better on the incarceration front: blacks constitute 25 percent of Nevada inmates (compared to being 9.5 percent of the state's population), and there are only slightly more black men in college or graduate school, 3,632, as in prison, 2,873.
Enter CeaseFire, which has decreased the number of shootings (by as much as 84 percent) and killings in some hot-spot Chicago neighborhoods. Metro officials recently visited the Windy City to get the skinny on the program.
CeaseFire's five tenets aren't necessarily revelatory. Community mobilization unites residents, businesses, service organizations and the clergy. Youth outreach involves "educated but street-smart individuals" becoming de facto social workers to up to 15 clients apiece. Says CeaseFire spokesman Dan Dighton, "We also have violence interrupters, who don't have specific caseloads and make contact with people prone to violence. They respond after shootings and get community members involved."
Public health is "about changing the thinking that violence is acceptable" — done via posterizing neighborhoods with leaflets, flyers, signs, bumper stickers, T-shirts, buttons with positive messages. Faith-based efforts recruit pastors, rabbis, imams and others to teach and reinforce moral behavior. Lastly, criminal justice participation centers on collaboration between cops and the courts.
See, nothing revelatory. And yet it's worked (though in some areas, violence has held steady). And other cities have sent officials to study CeaseFire: Newark, N.J., Baltimore, Cincinnati and Pittsburgh. But Dighton admits that reducing crime is an inexact science, with more jobs, cops and social programs playing as much of a role.
Locally, CeaseFire's tenets are already in place and have been for years: stern but caring probation officers; leadership forums; community activists; gang-suppression initiatives; church youth programs; collaboration between cops and the courts. Businesses could do more, there aren't enough commerce or recreational outlets in the area and the educational system's slow improvement (expanding the Agassi Academy, two new charter schools) could be hustled along, but the skeleton of a successful antiviolence initiative is there.
Oft touted as the cure for educational ills, strengthening families might be the single most important element in violence reduction. The tricky part is raising Abels amid a sea of Cains. We solve this, Fowler says, and we're on our way to saving a generation.
Back in West Las Vegas and obvious by four stopped cars at the Owens-H intersection, cops had stepped up enforcement. In Chicago, Dighton says, CeaseFire manicures its relationship with police—they don't want clients to think outreach workers are informants, so "we work in cooperation with the police."
As the clock scooted toward 10, talk of the neighborhood violence that often shatters still nights like this one faded as men and women drowned their cares—and fears—in alcohol.