The police radio crackled: "Two men running with guns … discharge on Druid Hill …"
Acting Capt. Robert Jackson hit the sirens on the unmarked Ford Taurus, which hurtled through traffic and stoplights to a West Baltimore intersection. Sheree Briscoe, acting major and Western District commanding officer, jumped out and moved to the rear of the car, while Jackson moved to the front — the first officers on the scene.
Be on the lookout for eight young males, including one wielding a gun, the dispatcher said. But no one was in sight.
On the sidewalk, Jackson noticed an overturned baseball cap, its brim perfectly flat and new-looking. He kicked the cap over, looking around.
Then he spotted it: a brass shell in the street — a symbol of the increasing violence that has plagued Baltimore in the aftermath of Freddie Gray's death.
Jackson and Briscoe are the new commanders of the Western District the smallest of the Baltimore Police Department's nine districts but the most challenging. It ranks as one of the city's most violent areas, three square miles where homicides have increased more than 100 percent this year compared with the same period in 2014. Non-fatal shootings are up 205 percent.
Gray was plucked from a Gilmor Homes sidewalk in the Western District and loaded into a police transport van, sustaining a spinal injury. The precinct became the epicenter of protests, as well as rioting, looting and arson on April 27, the day of Gray's funeral. Six of the district's officers have been charged in the incident.
In May, as the district spiraled from police officers' grasp, the agency sent in Briscoe and Jackson, who had strong community connections from previous assignments.
"I had this desire to be in this space and in this place," Briscoe said.
Their task: Rebuild the morale of officers inside the police station while repairing relationships with distrustful residents on the outside. And stanch the blood-letting on West Baltimore's streets.
They also must confront a sharp drop in arrests — a trend that has sparked heated words from police, union officials and the mayor. The Fraternal Order of Police says officers feel more vulnerable to prosecution if a suspect gets hurt; Mayor Stephanie Rawlings-Blake says officers must do their jobs or face internal discipline.
On a sunny afternoon this week, some of these challenges surfaced as the commanders split their time between talking with residents and rushing to crime scenes. For nearly three hours, they careened to a shooting, a burglary and a potential hostage situation. And the question of whether Briscoe and Jackson can fix the Western District gave way to a more pressing concern:
With so much violence on the west side, do they even have enough time?
Behind the violence
Several factors have contributed to the spike in violence in the Western District and across the city, police say. Gang members may be taking advantage of the tumult following Gray's death to settle old scores. Pain pills looted from 27 pharmacies have created chaos in the illegal drug trade. Drug dealers are moving in from elsewhere. And there appear to be more guns on the street.
Briscoe won't reveal her tactical plans for addressing the problems, but she said, "We're about targeted enforcement." Officers focus on repeat and violent offenders and have discretion in handling low-level crimes.
She wants to take a "scalpel" to the district, paring away long-standing problems. A vacant that's home to squatters and drug dealers? Call to board it up. Poor lighting in sections of Gilmor Homes? Fix it. An overgrown lot giving drug dealers cover? Mow it.
"This isn't just a crime fight," she said. "This is going to take everyone."
Cathy Lisa Schneider, an American University professor and author of "Police Power and Race Riots: Urban Unrest in Paris and New York," said a holistic approach is needed to bridge the gap between officers and residents.
Police, she said, need to "make it clear that what they want to do is police with the community."
It's going to take work. Briscoe has heard the complaints at community meetings: No one picks up the phone at the Western District. People suspect some neighborhood stores harbor drug dealers. One woman told Briscoe officers ignored her when she tried to point them to a house fire.
At a recent public meeting, Walter Savage, a member of the Robert W. Coleman Association, said he knows people who want to open up new businesses but are put off by loitering drug dealers who won't move.
"Somewhere, a couple weeks back, the police commissioner said officers were going to get out and walk a little more," he said. "Just walk if you're not going to arrest anybody."
In West Baltimore, statistics show, arrests decreased from more than 200 in April to 78 in May — over 60 percent. Citywide, arrests were down 43 percent from April to May.
Disputes over the issue have been aired publicly by city and police officials. Union President Lt. Gene Ryan said officers question police leadership during the April 27 riots that led to 160 officers getting hurt. The union took another swipe at the mayor late last week, saying officers are working hard and there is no deliberate slowdown or "blue flu."
"The community has shown us tremendous support," Ryan said, "and we ask the same from Baltimore City leadership."
Meanwhile, Briscoe and Jackson just focus on the crime fight.
'Where the challenge is'
Briscoe, a mother and grandmother, grew up in Northeast Baltimore and graduated from Baltimore City College high school. She said she identifies with the concerns of other mothers.
"I understand the basic human need of being safe," she said. "I'm no different or no better than the community that I serve."
A commanding public speaker who sports glasses with purple frames, Briscoe said she volunteered to come back to the Western District. She started working as a probation officer in the district in 1995 and served as a lieutenant in 2014 before being promoted to captain and transferred to another part of the city.
Jackson, a tall, quiet man who says he prefers to blend in with the rank and file, spent his teenage years in West Baltimore. He was a commander in the Southeastern District before he came back to the Western, where he had worked until 2013.
"This is home for me," he said. "This is where the challenge is."
The disconnect between police and some neighborhoods, Briscoe said, arises because residents don't know the officers on their streets. The department has ordered all patrol officers to spend at least 30 minutes on foot during their shifts, and Briscoe said she urges officers to be out as much as possible.
She said she has deployed more officers on foot. But the volume of calls in the district, she added, makes it difficult to have a "healthy conversation."
She sends more officers to community meetings and has them connect with neighborhood kids through the department's "fun wagon" — a truck that travels around the city carrying sports gear so officers can play with kids on the streets. Briscoe said she has played jacks with some of the children.
Both Briscoe and Jackson said they try to lead by example. Jackson estimated that he spends all but two hours of his shift on the streets. Their goal is to inspire, monitor and back up officers.
As the war of words continues among the police officials, union leaders, prosecutors and the mayor, Briscoe reminds officers to focus on why they decided to join the force.
"In the face of crisis, you have to be reminded and remind yourself why you do what you do," she said.
The Western District includes some of the city's poorest neighborhoods. There are boarded-up rowhouses and alleys blocked by trash, bits of old crime tape left hanging from poles and makeshift memorials with teddy bears fading in the sun.
The Justice Policy Institute reported that in Sandtown-Winchester, the community where Gray was arrested, more than 50 percent of residents were unemployed, and 60 percent of the residents 25 or older were school dropouts, according to a survey from 2008 to 2012. The neighborhood is home to more former prisoners than any other census tract in Maryland, advocacy groups say.
But the larger area, where Coppin State University is located, owns a proud history. Among the noteworthy figures who grew up there were Supreme Court Justice Thurgood Marshall and jazz artist Cab Calloway.
The Penn North business district, one of the region's commercial hubs, is on the commanders' tour. Near the intersection of Pennsylvania Street and West North Avenue — widely known as "ground zero during the unrest — a CVS store remains boarded up and charred. Check-cashing stores, salons and carryouts dot the streets.
Several people said hello as Briscoe walked around. She said to little girls in strollers, "How you doing, baby?"
Jackson called out to a man sitting on front steps. "Chilling," the man responded.
"Even the lawbreakers — they won't admit it — but they like seeing police," Jackson said as he walked on. "There's an order we bring."
He tries to earn the residents' respect by maintaining a presence on the street.
"You speak 10 times and you might get seven looks," he said. "But you keep speaking day after day."
Screams and cellphones
The dispatch radio burst with sounds of an out-of-breath officer.
"Hold on," Jackson said.
He punched the gas and dropped Briscoe off at the home of a burglary victim before continuing on to Ruskin and Woodbrook avenues, where a suspect was handcuffed. The man, wearing sunglasses and a T-shirt marked with blood, sat on the curb.
Three residents recorded the scene with cellphone cameras. The man yelled and more cameras appeared from the pockets of a small crowd.
A woman screamed at the suspect, "You're a bad man. You've created this for yourself, you monster. I'm glad."
As Jackson ushered her away, a man in a gray T-shirt and jeans moved closer with his cellphone.
Police Commissioner Anthony Batts has complained that crowds holding cameras and hurling insults have made policing difficult in West Baltimore since Gray's death. Because of safety concerns, officers in the district have doubled up in patrol cars — a rarity in the city.
Marvin "Doc" Cheatham, a longtime Baltimore civil rights advocate and president of the Matthew A. Henson Neighborhood Association in West Baltimore, said he understands concerns for officer safety.
"But the best way they can get away from the fear of the gangs or the gangs taking pictures is to come and walk with us," Cheatham said. And he said he's not seeing enough of that.
As officers waited for a transport van, one grabbed a bottle of water and gave the suspect a drink. When the van arrived, two officers hooked the man under his shoulders and lifted.
"Ow, my head!" he screamed.
"Stop, stop," Jackson told him firmly.
The man continued to shout. Resigned looks crossed the officers' faces. They summoned an ambulance.
"We call a medic to make sure an individual is OK and we move forward," Jackson said. "I'm not a doctor."
Following Gray's death — and the criticism from prosecutors that officers failed to provide medical care — police have been more cautious in such situations. Calling paramedics, however, means officers are stuck at a scene longer.
Jackson told the officer in charge: "Assess who you got up there." If the six officers at the scene were not all needed to maintain order, he wanted them back on the streets.
"That was a peaceful crowd," Jackson remarked as he walked away. "Sometimes, it's not so peaceful. Many challenges."
Later, back in Briscoe's office, a tray of snacks including Pop Chips and Cheez-Its rested on a mini fridge behind her desk. Pictures of her children stared back from a frame with the words "Faith Hope Love."
She reflected on the Western District's progress: "We have a long way to go. We're not where we started but we have a long way to go."
Jackson burst in: "We got to go."
So much for reflection. The commanders rushed out of the office and got back into the Taurus. Someone had reported a robbery and hostage situation at a bank.
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