| Copyright New York Times Company May 4, 2005
The M35 bus at night is a place of weary faces and empty pockets. It
runs from Spanish Harlem to the largest men's homeless shelter in the
city. Every night, men file on to get to a place to sleep. Sometimes they
pay the $2 fare; sometimes they don't.
Other riders have recently appeared, still scruffy but with a different
goal. They are undercover police officers, there to arrest
fare-beaters.
The arrests are part of a policy that began in the 1990's, when the New
York City police took aim at minor crimes, like unlicensed street peddling
and fare-beating. Since then, violent crime has fallen sharply, but
arrests for minor crimes remain high. Misdemeanor arrests are up by 60
percent from 1990.
Arrests for minor crimes, the city says, lead to people the police are
already looking for and deter more serious crimes.
Proof that it works, officials say, is in the vastly improved
statistics on serious crime. Defense lawyers argue that the arrests are
unfair because those arrested do not have fare money and pose no threat to
society.
The M35 bus arrests offer a vivid look at the reality behind the
debate. They began several years ago, after a complaint by the
Metropolitan Transportation Authority that a rowdy group of riders had
tried to throw a driver off the bus for challenging them over the fare.
Since then, undercover officers have monitored the route. The bus starts
at 125th Street and Lexington Avenue in Manhattan, crosses the Triborough
Bridge and reaches the shelters on Wards Island in less than 10
minutes.
Homeless men and the lawyers who defend them say that the city created
a Catch-22 when it designated the shelter as the place to sleep but then
started arresting people who could not pay for the bus to get there. Even
if they wanted to walk to the shelter, the men said, they could not,
because the only footbridge from Manhattan is closed in the late fall and
winter and at other times closes after 8 p.m.
''You're setting me up,'' said Shavar Shaver, 21, of Brooklyn, who was
arrested with five other people for not paying his fare in January.
''They're the easiest victims, the homeless people. It's entrapment. Why
don't you go fight some real crime?''
Police and city officials say there is no excuse for fare-beating. One
of the shelter operators runs a van service to Manhattan from 8 a.m. to 5
p.m. on weekdays, said a spokesman for the city's Department of Homeless
Services. Those who can show written proof of appointments in the city are
given bus fare.
But the homeless men said the van service was not always reliable.
Nicholas Haddon, 53, was arrested last month for fare-beating on the M35
after what he said was a long wait for a van that never arrived.
''I'm frustrated,'' said Mr. Haddon, who was evicted along with his
roommate from a rented room in the Bronx. ''There are some of us who are
trying to better our lives, and get out of the system, but they're making
it harder for us.''
Paul J. Browne, the Police Department's chief spokesman, said officers
were not harassing homeless men but were simply reacting to complaints
from riders and the transportation authority. He said in a telephone
interview that it was not unusual for the police to focus on fare-beaters
to keep them from committing other crimes, and that the police often found
people with warrants out for their arrest. The men are not immune from the
law just because they are homeless, Mr. Browne said.
''We're not trying to prevent someone from going to a shelter, but at
the same time you can't have large numbers of individuals evading the fare
and essentially turning the bus -- a public transportation facility --
into their own vehicle,'' he said.
Indeed, that is exactly what M35 drivers interviewed along the route
say the men are doing.
''They take it for granted that this is their bus,'' said one driver
who asked that his name not be used because he had not been authorized to
speak. ''You can tell; it doesn't smell so good in here,'' he added,
saying the homeless men often smelled of marijuana and beer.
Still, many drivers expressed sympathy for the men, with one saying he
had developed a code to warn riders that the police might be on the bus.
All the drivers allowed men who did not pay to board. The drivers say they
are not required to force payment from the men.
''It's really sad,'' another driver said. ''I've seen guys
deteriorating right before my eyes.''
Officers are cleverly disguised. On a night in late March, two men in
scruffy clothing sat on the bus. One carried a pizza box. The other had a
baseball cap pulled low over his eyes. They suddenly stood, flashed badges
and arrested a rider for not paying. In another arrest, officers posed as
boyfriend and girlfriend, chatting in the back of the bus.
As the cases have made their way into court, they have confounded
judges. Some refuse to give any sentence and order the defendants
released, once they have pleaded guilty to the typical charge a
misdemeanor crime of theft of services.
''I have been seeing these cases over and over, but nobody is telling
me exactly what's going on,'' said Judge Evelyn Laporte of Manhattan
Criminal Court.
In interviews, five criminal court judges who spoke on the condition of
anonymity questioned the wisdom of the arrests, saying that they wasted
judicial resources. A court system spokesman said he could not quantify
the cost of arraigning one defendant, a process that involves a judge, a
prosecutor, court officers and a court stenographer. Most defendants also
spend the night in jail, which costs $163, according to a breakdown by the
city.
''I consistently put on the record how outraged I am by the whole
thing,'' said Kathryn E. Freed, an arraignment court judge. ''It's a
complete waste of the court's time. It takes a lot of person-power to
process them, house them and feed them. Meanwhile, the shelter, where
they're heading, is set up to do just that.''
Perhaps most frustrating, some of the homeless men said, is that even
after moving through the legal system, they are in the same predicament
they were the day before: They still have to get to the shelter.
''It's going through the system for nothing,'' said Howard Breely, 49,
who was recently released from a drug treatment program at a shelter on
Wards Island. ''I still have to get back there.''
Since its financial troubles last year, the Legal Aid Society, the
largest criminal defense organization in the city, no longer gives out
subway fare to poor clients.
Many of the fare-beaters have criminal records, which means that judges
cannot dismiss the cases. The result is misdemeanor convictions without
any further jail time. The men can also lose a shelter bed if they are
away overnight, forcing them to be reprocessed.
Even so, the arrests seem to be having the effect desired by the
authorities. The drivers say they feel safer with the police present, and
payments have shot up.
The banter on the bus also speaks of compliance. One night last month,
a gaunt man in a wheelchair, who identified himself only as Smokey,
shouted to a friend who was boarding that he was safe from arrest since
everyone had seen him pay his fare.
''I ain't getting arrested for no $2,'' his friend said.
| [Photograph] |
| The homeless waiting on 125th Street for the M35
bus to Wards Island to get a bed for the night. Sometimes there are
undercover police officers on the bus who arrest those who try to
beat the $2 fare.; A homeless man being questioned on the bus. He
produced an invalid fare card and was later charged with attempted
fare-beating. (Photographs by Michelle V. Agins/The New York
Times)(pg. B7) |
|