Perspective: On the Beat in the badlands

'The Badlands' is only its nickname. But any police officer will tell you it is the busiest district in the city of Philadelphia.

Known for narcotics dealings and violent crimes, the 25th Police District covers 5.4 square miles of North Philadelphia.

The nights are the busiest times. Frequently, officers will be responding to one call after another without a break. Shootings are not uncommon and police are forced to prioritize the calls they receive. Incidents involving weapons or a robbery in progress will be responded to immediately, but a fight on the highway or reports of large crowds could go unanswered for hours, depending on the night.

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"2516. Good morning sir, to you and your partner," Officer Dave Silcox radios in to the radio dispatch room.

It is shortly after midnight on a Friday night, and Silcox, a 14-year veteran of the 25th, is just starting his 12-hour shift.

"It should be a two-page night," he guesses, removing two log sheets from his notebook. The sheets serve as a record of the officer's actions while on duty. Each holds 15 to 20 incidents; on them, he will record every occurrence to which he responds.

Each officer is assigned a code that they use on the radio to identify themselves. As a 25th District officer working in car number 16, Silcox identifies each of his calls with 2516. Tonight, Silcox will be working alone, although officers often work in pairs. Because of the dangers of his job, he wears a bullet proof vest over his uniform. Any incident he responds to could lead to a shooting.

Within five minutes, Silcox is answering his first call. He is headed to the hospital to investigate a shooting victim who was brought in earlier that evening.

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Meanwhile, back at the Whitaker Avenue headquarters, a succession of district inhabitants come in to inquire after family members who may have been arrested.

At 9 p.m. a young woman in an oversized T-shirt and sweatpants comes to the window.

"I'm here for my nephew," she tells the woman at the front desk in a heavy Puerto Rican accent. She is apparently familiar with the routine.

"Is he a juvenile?" the officer asks.

"They call him that," the woman replies brusquely. Her nephew's actions may speak otherwise.

Juveniles are frequently involved in crimes here, following in the footsteps of older family members.

"You have family members selling drugs and that's all you see," Officer James Hackey says. "You see your uncle doing it, your father doing it. It's easy, quick money for them."

But the juveniles often don't realize the risks that come with the money.

"These kids think it's easy, quick money, but it's not, because you've got to always watch your back," Hackey says.

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Silcox has arrived at the hospital. He heads over to the bed where a young black man, shot in the hand, is resting. A few questions later, Silcox determines that the shooting occurred in one of the adjacent districts.

That district only has three calls awaiting responses. The 25th already has more than 20. Silcox will return to the streets and an officer from the other district will take over here.

He hasn't been back in the car long before he is responding to a car theft-in-progress. Immediately, the lights and sirens go on as he races through the dark streets. As he draws near, he radios in, "2516 approaching the scene."

He turns off the sirens, not wanting to give away his presence. As he pulls up to a crowded nightclub, two Hispanic men quickly approach the car and explain the situation.

Two people were seen entering one of the cars parked outside. Further investigation shows that the car they had entered was a stolen vehicle. They had covered it in gasoline, probably intending to burn it and steal another car. Silcox drives through the area, but the men have long-since fled the scene. Although the thieves go unapprehended, the officers have probably been able to prevent the car from being burned and perhaps another car from being stolen.

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Shortly thereafter, another call comes in. A police officer making an arrest needs assistance. Her request for backup is heard over the radio, and it sounds as though she is struggling. The dispatcher responds, "Are you OK?"

Silence greets the inquiry. Immediately, Silcox steps on the gas, his sirens blaring, fearing that one of his own is in danger. The seconds seem to last for hours.

At last, breathless, the officer's response is heard.

"Yeah, I'm OK," she says. "Just out of breath."

The wave of relief is obvious on Silcox's face. Seconds later he arrives on the scene. He assists with the arrest and takes the prisoner back to the station for processing.

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Although the nights are constantly busy, they generally follow a similar trend. It will be busy when the officers' shifts start at 11 p.m. After a brief lull, calls will pick up again sometime after 2 when the clubs close for the night. By 4 or 5 things slow down and by 8 the calls are rolling in again.

Even this pattern, though, varies from night to night.

"Things can jump at any time," Silcox explains.

At 2:38 a.m. Silcox receives a call that someone was seen with a gun.

"See," he says, gesturing towards the clock. "It's picking up now."

Arriving on the scene, Silcox is met with crowds from a large party spilling onto the street. Latin music blares from inside, and the partiers are obviously intoxicated. However, there is no gun in sight. The call could have been a fake, or the person with the gun could already have left the area. Before leaving, Silcox scans the area, confirming that there is no danger.

"2516, report of man with a gun is unfounded," he radios in.

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As expected, things have slowed down as the night drags on. A quick break at the local diner is in order. Silcox meets up with a friend who is a former cop and a fellow police officer to share stories and exchange jokes.

The officers' duties, though, are never far away. As they exchange greetings, their radios remain nearby and their ears are alerted to a possible call. Before long, Silcox's friend has launched into a story recalling the day he served as a body guard to Martin Luther King Jr.

"I still have a pack of cigarettes he gave me. Boy, I bet they're worth a fortune," he laughs.

But their early morning coffee is cut short by a call requesting backup for another officer. Within seconds, Silcox is speeding down the road. Before the location can be reached, however, another call comes in. The request was not legitimate.

Frequently these "unfounded" calls may be drug dealers calling in to distract the officers from their deal, taking place in another part of the District. The dealers know that if a report of a gun is called in, officers will have to respond.

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Despite a series of incidents including thefts, an arrest and reports of guns and robberies, it was a slow night for a Friday. Typically, Silcox would have seen more jobs.

Dawn is beginning to break as Silcox heads out to another assignment.

"The only way this could be bad is if it's a 9252," Silcox says, pulling up to a tiny row house. "A dead body."

He enters the front room, where the medical team has already started examining an elderly woman lying in a hospital bed. They hook her up to the monitor, but it is apparent that she has been dead for a few hours, having passed away sometime during the night. The smell of death and sickness hangs heavy in the room.

Because it is obvious the elderly woman died of natural causes, no investigation is necessary. Instead, Silcox turns to the woman's daughter to explain the situation. Before leaving, he confirms that family members will be arriving soon to take care of things.

"It's nasty, but it's part of the job," Silcox says as he gets back into the car. "But it is better than someone who is shot out on the highway."

Over the course of his career, Silcox has seen plenty of grisly scenes. He recalls one particularly gruesome incident where a man, upset over being evicted, stabbed and killed his landlord.

"The Medical Examiner was there and he says, 'Wait till you see this.' You know its going to be bad when the Medical Examiner says something like that," Silcox says. "It was one of the worst scenes I've ever witnessed."

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Over the course of the morning Silcox can expect to fill up the remaining blanks on the log sheets.

"2516, Goodnight," Silcox will say as he pulls into the station at noon, his shift completed.

Within the hour, the next shift will be heading out. Officers of the 25th never miss a beat.

"Before you can hit the streets, they're already calling for cars," Officer John Coats says.

And tomorrow night, the routine will begin again. To be an officer in the 25th District is a demanding job. And officers usually finish out their careers elsewhere.

"I've probably got one more year left in me," Silcox predicts. "Fifteen years in the 25th district is enough for anybody."

Trying to curb a dangerous addiction

Tom has been buying heroin in the 25th District for about 10 years.

His story is not unlike many other drug users. He got involved with drug use about 10 years ago, as a community college student. It started as an experiment. Tom, who would only give his first name, now spends $30 to $60 a day to support his habit.

"Before I knew it," he says, "I was hooked. It's playing with fire, and I got burned."

But Tom's access to heroin is becoming more restricted, thanks to Mayor John Street's Operation Safe Streets. Through the initiative, two police officers are stationed at street corners that are well known for narcotics dealing.

The street corners are frequently "owned" by someone involved in the drug trade, meaning that the person controls who does business there.

"I've never heard of someone owning a [street] corner -- how do you own a corner?" Officer James Hackey asks. "But they do. You even pay rent to" sell drugs there.

Drugs are a large part of the 25th District's crime problem. Officers frequently point to the narcotics dealings as the cause of many violent crimes.

The district is known for easy access to heroin, cocaine and marijuana, which brings people from as far away as New Jersey, Delaware and the Philadelphia suburbs.

"When you talk to these people, they say that it's cheaper down here and just as potent," Hackey explains. "That's why you have people coming down to this neighborhood."

But it is becoming increasingly difficult for users to purchase narcotics, especially new users.

"Now I have to go to a place behind closed doors," Tom explains. "Not long ago you could walk up the street [and find drugs] no problem. It used to be that you could get heroin 24-7 up there. Now it's more low key; it feels illegal. It used to be every corner you could get stuff and now it's just select spots."

Although Safe Streets has made some changes in the neighborhood, it is doubtful that the problem will ever be entirely eliminated.

"You can try and do your best, but I don't know if you can ever stop the selling of narcotics totally," Hackey concedes.

Especially when you have people willing to take the risks.

"It's just a quick way to make money," Tom says. "Shit, if I knew how to get it, I'd be selling heroin."

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