Intentions Astray - Operation Impact, meant to improve blighted neighborhoods, veers off course

Julius Davis had lived in the Easton neighborhood for 30 years, and grew dismayed as other houses in the area were abandoned or fell into disrepair. The problems at times seemed overwhelming, so any help residents could get was welcome

"We'd been complaining to city council about vacant houses and making owners take care of the outsides," he said. "If the neighborhood looks bad, nobody's going to buy anything. We had drug problems and problems with prostitutes, too."

So when he learned a few years ago about programs in other cities that amounted to sweeps by housing inspectors, health officials and police that targeted neighborhoods plagued by pockets of blight, Davis asked to be part of a study committee and volunteered to help with a pilot program here.

Somewhere along the line, though, Operation Impact in Winston-Salem veered off course -- so much so that Davis was arrested June 18 after he refused to allow city inspectors inside his home.

"That's a violation of my civil rights," Davis said. "If I'm doing something criminal or my house looks like a hazard, the city can come on inside. But they didn't have a reason. There are too many houses in the neighborhood that are dilapidated that need attention."

Noble goal, good intentions

It's difficult to argue with the intent of Operation Impact. Four or five times a year, representatives of the city's police, fire, housing, zoning and other departments fan out in neighborhoods to hunt down obvious code violations and criminal activity.

A similar comprehensive inspections program had been in place since at least the mid-1990s. It was modified in 2005, in part to allow for more input from neighborhood associations.

The program's genius was its simplicity: Mail a letter to residents of a targeted neighborhood warning them of an impending Operation Impact sweep. Go to the area, write up violators and order repairs. Lock up any criminals stupid enough to do business within view of police.

Owners of houses and apartment buildings with vermin, overgrown weeds, rotten roofs and the like would be given time to fix the problems before officials resorted to more severe measures such as issuing fines or declaring a dwelling unfit for human habitation.

"It's been a tremendous success," said Ritchie Brooks, the director of the city's neighborhood-services department. "We've had an 87 to 95 percent correction rate on violations."

But as these things can do, Operation Impact morphed from a welcome tool for combating blight to something more contentious.

In their desire for a greater effect, city officials started obtaining administrative warrants for entire neighborhoods that allowed inspectors to enter someone's house to look for problems such as faulty electric wiring or plumbing problems.

"They didn't use the original procedure," Davis said. "They just said they were going to go in whoever's house we want to."

Robert Leak Sr., a resident active in a neighborhood group, echoed Davis' sentiments about the city's tactics. He allowed inspectors inside and had them deem his house "unfit for human habitation" during Operation Impact over a few small violations -- the most serious of which appears to be unspecified damage to the foundation -- that he was able to repair himself in a few days.

"They're wrong for the way they did it and the reasons they did it," Leak said. "They're way wrong."

Violation of privacy

A cursory tour of Easton -- a rabbit warren of narrow and dead-end streets between Interstate 40 and Old Lexington Road on the south side of town -- shows why Operation Impact was deemed necessary.

For every house whose flowers, tidy porch furniture and neatly mown grass indicates deep-seated homeowner pride, there appears to be an equal with broken-down cars and trash in the yard. Some have been completely abandoned; broken windows, beer bottles and kicked-in doors offer broad hints of recent criminal activity.

When Operation Impact was scheduled to return in June, officials decided they needed to do it in phases because of the sheer size of the neighborhood. That's when the trouble started.

Inspectors arrived at Davis' home on June 18 with a warrant. He refused to allow an inspector inside, believing that the warrant overstepped the intent of the program, and that his right to privacy was being violated. Bruce Bailiff, the city's housing-conservation administrator and a police officer, came to Davis' house.

"The police officer explained what we had," Bailiff said. "At that point, the occupant reiterated his position -- ‘You're not going in my house' -- and said ‘You're just going to have to carry me to jail.'"

Davis was indeed charged with refusal to permit entry by inspectors, a misdemeanor. Inspectors then went inside and wrote him up for two minor violations.

"It didn't make any sense to me," Davis said. "I consider my house the third- or fourth-best-looking in the neighborhood and I got handcuffed and they took me downtown."

Predictable commotion

Predictably, the news of Davis' arrest caused a stir. City officials were flabbergasted. They believed -- and still do -- that they were acting in good faith to help a neighborhood that could use a hand and wanted to avoid being accused of profiling houses or targeting specific property owners.

"We go to every single house," Brooks said. "We don't want to be accused of being selective in our process."

Other homeowners were understandably upset. They believe that officials took Operation Impact two steps too far.

"They felt they could do this because of the neighborhood," Davis said. "Economically, Easton residents can't complain, and people feel they have no choice."

In response to the simmering controversy, the city has suspended Operation Impact until at least October, time enough for a full report to be completed and considered by the city council.

That's the right thing to do, as was the decision Aug. 18 to dismiss the misdemeanor charge against Davis. But bruised feelings linger.

"Can you imagine what would happen if they went to Buena Vista or tried this out Country Club Road?" Davis said. "Nobody out there would stand for it if somebody tried to come in their house."

■ Scott Sexton can be reached at 727-7481 or at ssexton@wsjournal.com