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Posted 04.29.07
Blacklisted Bars
New Haven's mayor wants to shut down five black neighborhood bars because they are "hot spots" for trouble. But crime data tell a different story.

By Freda Moon

Published February 15, 2007 in the New Haven Advocate

Outside Jacks or Better bar in Westville, a small crowd of young women in skin-tight jeans and sweatshirts have congregated, talking and laughing loudly, their faces lit by the neon light of beer signs.

Inside, a middle-aged couple plays a countertop video game while a group of young men in baggy pants and oversized t-shirts play pool in the back of the long, open room. It's early still and Jacks is far from busy, but hip-hop booms from the jukebox and at least one of the patrons seems to have had one too many.

At the bar, there's a scraggly, older man drinking a Budweiser. Though the bar has Bud on tap, he asks for a bottle and carefully pours it into a tall beer glass. He's retired from the military, he says, and now owns the largest rice import company in the United States. He doesn't go to bars often, he explains, but he likes Jacks or Better. It's a "nice place," he says, "a working class bar."

"I'm a millionaire," he says, "but I never have any problems here."

Tonight's bartender, Rachel Miller, is also the bar's owner. She's a short, verbally blunt woman, who wears her dark curls pulled back in a tight ponytail. Despite her size, her sharp tongue makes for a commanding presence behind the bar. She and her husband, Bill, bought Jacks just over two years ago. She's a certified nurse and he's an electrician, but owning a bar was a shared dream.

Though it seems innocent enough, Jacks is one of five "hot spots for trouble" blacklisted by the city of New Haven. The police department says that it's a nuisance bar with a disproportionate number of police calls, complaints and shootings, and City Hall wants the five bars shut down.

In 2006, New Haven's murder rate jumped from 15 to 24, a 60 percent increase. At a news conference on Jan. 4 at Police Headquarters, Mayor John DeStefano and Police Chief Francisco Ortiz presented a series of public safety initiatives designed to reverse that trend.

The measures-listed on a media handout as potential "2007 Headlines"-included a crackdown on truancy, the creation of a task force to deal with guns, a focus on "the youth" and more cops on the streets. The fifth fantasy headline reads, "Neighbors celebrate: Disruptive cafes and bars shut down."

The mayor stood before a bar graph titled "Hot Spots for Trouble." The chart showed the number of calls made to police regarding five specific bars, in descending order. The implication was clear: These are the worst bars in town, with the most police calls and "some real unacceptable behaviors." The mayor called for the bars to be closed. "The fact is," he said, "those are places you are going to have a murder a year, the way they're operated right now. They're a threat to neighborhoods."

DeStefano wasn't shy about pointing the finger at exactly which bars he was talking about. He named Jacks or Better, at 50 Fitch St. in Westville; Cardinal's Cafe at 320 Ashmun St. in the Dixwell area; Taurus Cafe at 520 Winchester St. in Newhallville; Newt's Cafe at 345 Whalley Ave. in the Dwight/Edgewood neighborhood; and another Westville bar, Owl's Nest at 3 Tour Ave.

The fact is, however, that these bars don't have the most police calls. In some cases, they don't even come close.

Owl's Nest, for example, is number five on DeStefano's list, with 18 calls. What the mayor didn't explain, though, is that 13 of those calls were "unfounded"-meaning that they were investigated, but could not be substantiated and weren't assigned a case number. So, really, Owl's Nest had only five calls in all of 2006. They included a lost property complaint, two car accidents, one driving violation and a "criminal mischief" charge. Hardly the stuff you'd expect from one of the worst bars in all of New Haven.

Compare that to the number of substantiated calls to popular downtown clubs like Toad's Place on York Street (62), or the Crown Street bars (Alchemy had 62, Hula Hank's had 56, Gotham Citi had 53, and BAR had 38)-and Owl's Nest looks like a quiet neighborhood pub. At least on paper.

Jacks or Better, Westville

As this recent Thursday night wears on, there's little to distinguish Jacks or Better from any other neighborhood dive. It's the kind of place where the beer is cheap and domestic and where the regulars know each other by name. Jacks' interior is sparsely decorated with dingy floral wallpaper and trim painted with black and red hearts, spades, clubs and diamonds. Its location-in a converted factory between Southern Connecticut State University and upscale Westville Center-is out of the way. Tonight, Jacks doesn't feel like any kind of hot spot, much less a "hot spot for trouble."

But even the owner, Rachel Miller, acknowledges the bar has its difficulties and that things aren't always as quiet as they are tonight. "I'm not saying we're perfect," she says, referring to a recent shooting in the bar's parking lot. "I'm not saying we haven't had shootings...I'm just saying, what are they going to accomplish [by shutting down the bar]?"

Rachel says the problems she has at her bar-guns, drugs and gangs-are not specific to Jacks, but are symptomatic of problems in the larger community. "I can't control what happens outside my bar," she says. Instead, she personally mans the door on most nights, checking purses, pockets and IDs. But, she says, "I can't stop the gangs from coming in, because that's discrimination. Then I have a lawsuit." She can't keep track of who has "a beef" with whom, or who's trouble and who's not. But, she says, she's quick to kick out people if they're causing problems or to call the police if she can't handle a situation.

As with the Owl's Nest, the mayor's claims of 116 police calls to Jacks or Better in 2006 deserve further explanation. Seventy-four of those calls were "unfounded" and 44 were responding to the bar's burglar alarm. Only a handful of the calls were for violence-one assault with a firearm, one assault with a dangerous weapon and a few fights.

Clearly, there's no "acceptable" number of stabbings, shootings, fights or muggings. But it's equally clear that the downtown bar crowd is not a whole lot better behaved than the Jacks crowd-at least not in terms of the amount of police effort it takes to keep things in check. The main difference, it seems, is that when a couple of drunken Yalies get into trouble at Toad's, it's unlikely that anyone will pull a gun.

The gun problem may be specific to a certain clientele, but Rachel Miller feels like she's being punished for calling for help. "I've been told that if I have a problem to call the New Haven Police Department, but now I feel like if I call the New Haven Police Department, we're a nuisance," says Miller. She argues that she's done everything she's been asked to do to improve the situation, but beyond that, she's at a loss. "I'm not trying to put up a fight. You ask me to hire security, I hire security. You ask me to double security, I double security. You ask me to hire cops, I hire cops. What do you want me to do?" Currently, the city of New Haven sends an extra-duty cop to Jacks on Friday nights, and charges Miller for the service. Each extra-duty officer costs $211 for a four-hour shift. It's a cost that Miller says she cannot afford to pay more than once or twice a week.

The NHPD's Westville district manager, Sgt. Bernie Somers, says he has a suggestion for Miller. "If you were a bar owner and you attracted some of the worst thugs to the city, for whatever reason-the music, the type of food you put out, the type of alcohol you put out..." he lets the question trail off. "If you start playing country western music, you might attract a different crowd."

Taurus Cafe, Newhallville

In a year of heavy shooting, Troy Kelley was the last man down. Early on Dec. 31, he was shot twice outside of Taurus Cafe, the Newhallville club that's number three on the police department's list of "hot spots." Kelley spent almost a week at Yale-New Haven Hospital with injuries to his leg and stomach. Three weeks later, on the day I visited him at his home near East Rock Park, the wounds sent him back to the emergency room. Still, Kelley's quick to say that Taurus shouldn't be closed.

The night he was shot-at closing time early on a Sunday morning-there was an extra-duty officer at Taurus, hired by the club's management. There was also a second cop, Bennett Hines, who was there as part of his regular patrol. When the shots sounded, Hines chased and fired at a car he thought was fleeing. The police department is still investigating, but the driver of that car was apprehended and released-and seems not to have been involved in the shooting.

Kelley points out that even with two cops at the bar, his attacker wasn't deterred. "The police were there," he says, while reclined in the passenger seat of an idling car on his way to the hospital. "You wanna blame someone, blame the police."

But Sgt. Andrew Muro says the problem at clubs like Taurus is the combination of alcohol and guns. "They're quick to result in violence, instead of trying to talk through these disputes," says Muro. "They're not really concerned with their surroundings, they're going to act first and deal with the consequences later."

Muro believes Kelley had an "ongoing dispute" with two Taurus regulars and was lingering outside the club as the men were leaving. After arguing with one of them, the second man approached and began shooting. Kelley hasn't been cooperative in the investigation, says Muro, and no arrests have yet been made. But Muro's optimistic that the case will be closed.

Taurus's reputation for violence and its location-smack in the center of a residential block on Winchester Avenue in Newhallville-has garnered special attention from the mayor's office. "I can't tell you the number of times we've been up in Hartford on the Taurus Club, looking to get it shut down," said DeStefano at the Jan. 4 press conference.

But Troy Kelley believes he knows the real reason the city is focused on Taurus Cafe, and the other "hot spot" bars. He believes it's racial. "They shouldn't close down these five clubs because somebody got shot," he says, pointing out that "white bars" and "Yalie bars" also have problems and they haven't been threatened with closure. "They're black bars. That's why they're being targeted."

Yul A. Watley, a community activist and Taurus patron, defends the bar. "It's a neighborhood bar," he says. "It's a place where people come to unwind from a hard day at work." He says that New Haven is a rough place to live, but the portrayal of the Taurus as "drug-crazed, shoot 'em up-and all that" is inaccurate. He points to a shooting, several years ago, on the steps of City Hall. The real issue, he says, is economic. Newhallville's troubles, he argues, come from "being starved." Taurus, he says, gives people a place to go in a neighborhood where most other businesses have long since closed. A woman who overhears the conversation chimes in: "I challenge DeStefano to give our kids something-they have nothing," she says.

But the mayor's not the only one worried about Taurus. The state's Liquor Control Commission received a 50-signature petition asking that Taurus's liquor license not be renewed. Without booze, the logic goes, the club would simply cease to exist. That, for many, would be a blessing.

Closing Taurus would certainly be a blessing for the owner of a new Habitat for Humanity home next door. Habitat volunteers raised $50,000 to build the house, and the owner and her two children worked 400 hours on the project. Now, less than a year after the family moved in, the house sits empty. The woman's complaints about Taurus-regarding noise, drug dealing and people parking in her driveway-were ignored, according to Habitat For Humanity's public comments on the issue. Following a Jan. 4 appearance at a Liquor Control Commission hearing, she was subjected to intimidation tactics, according to Julie Savin, a Livable City Initiative employee who testified at the second Commission hearing, on Jan. 10.

"It's easier to run than to fight this," says Newhallville Alderman Charles Blango of the woman's situation.

After that Jan. 4 hearing in Hartford, Habitat For Humanity's New Haven office reported receiving an arson threat and a "bomb-like" package was found outside the office of Peter Berdon, the lawyer arguing against Taurus. Police department spokeswoman Bonnie Winchester confirmed that complaints were made and that police are investigating the arson and "bomb" incidents.

In response to several calls, Bill Casey, Director of New Haven's Habitat chapter, faxed the Advocate a written statement. "Unfortunately," he wrote, "recent experience has shown that the intersection of Winchester Avenue and Thompson Street is not suitable for a homeownership initiative at this time." It's a consequence none would reasonably hope for.

Newhallville's District Manager, Sgt. Romano Ratti, declined to speak about Taurus Cafe, citing his upcoming testimony at a Feb. 21 hearing before the Liquor Control Commission.

One former neighbor, Dara Goodman, says that she signed the Taurus petition because the bar's "a nuisance for everybody in the community." Goodman lived in Newhallville for 15 years but now lives in Texas, where she's working towards a graduate degree in theology. Her family still lives in the neighborhood, though, and she's worried for them. "Whenever anybody would go to Larry," she says, referring to Larry Livingston, the owner of Taurus, "he always had an excuse and (would) say it wasn't his fault. Give me a break. I know that you do have a certain amount of control."

Owl's Nest, Westville

In visiting these five bars-sitting down at their counters, drinking a beer and talking with the regulars-one comment was more common than any other. "They're black bars," the owners said. "That's why they're being shut down," said the patrons. At each bar, the sense was they were being raided and threatened with closure because they are bars where young black men and women spend their evenings.

Even white bar owners, such as Rachel Miller of Jacks or Better, and Jose Cunha of Owl's Nest, say that race is at the heart of the city's crackdown. Their clientele is mainly black, while the neighborhood, Westville, is largely gentrified. This, they say, is the real problem. Miller, like Troy Kelley, wondered aloud at what would happen if her customers began visiting Delaney's, the "white bar" around the corner, in downtown Westville. "You're targeting the bars because of the [police calls]," says Miller, "but the crowd can go anywhere."

It's a sentiment that was echoed a couple of weeks later, on a Saturday night at the nearby Owl's Nest, where one longtime regular, Jon Scanlon, points to Delaney's as a "yuppie bar," with overpriced drinks and a clientele that's decidedly different from the Owl's Nest. Scanlon's a Westville native. He's an aging biker and carpenter, who wears a handlebar mustache and long, grey hair. He rattles off a list of the Owl's Nest's previous incarnations with pride of place.

Scanlon's strictly a cranberry juice man these days, citing an allergy to alcohol. "I break out in handcuffs," he says. Even so, Owl's Nest is clearly something of a second home to him. As we're talking, he gets a phone call asking that he buy cat food on the way home. He's been coming to Owl's Nest "forever" and seems to take personal offense at the possibility of its closure.

Of Jose Cunha, the owner, Scanlon says, "Joe runs a tight ship. But," he adds, "because it's a really diverse bar, it's easy for the city of New Haven to pick on it-because there's new buildings going up over there." This, according to Scanlon, is the heart of the issue. The neighborhood's changing, becoming whiter and wealthier, and the new residents (who Scanlon refers to as "the Buddhists" because there's a Buddhism Center on the block) are uncomfortable with the bar's clientele. "It's a bar of working Americans, that's what I say," says Scanlon. Two nearby men nod in agreement, and point out that there's a large, new residential development underway just a block away.

Across the U-shaped bar sits a small crew of firemen. Tonight, they're having a turkey dinner prepared by Cunha, who's deep-frying the bird out back. The turkey, explains New Haven firefighter Gary Tinney, was left over from a holiday turkey drive by the Firebirds, the New Haven Fire Department's public service organization. The group distributed 300 turkeys to the city's elderly public housing tenants last season. Cunha, he says, was a big part of that effort. He donated money to a recent Firebirds coat drive, let them hold fundraising events at the bar and store turkeys in his freezer. "He's more than giving," says Tinney.

Tinney's spoken to several aldermen in defense of Cunha and the Owl's Nest. He says he likes the bar because it has a diverse crowd, and "a lot of blue collar workers come in here."

Sgt. Bernie Somers, Westville's district manager, understands both sides of the debate over Owl's Nest. Of those who want the bar closed, he says, "Their concerns are legitimate." The bar's neighbors have to deal with noise ("You ever get drunk and try to whisper?" he asks with a laugh), and with people "urinating on the sidewalks, the bushes, on private property." At the same time, Somers is skeptical of some of the claims of the Owl's Nest's critics. "A lot of it's a misconception, too," Somers says. "People drive by and see 30 or 40 people outside and they form an instant opinion: They have to be selling drugs.

"We're not finding that, we're not finding any evidence of drug dealing," he says. "We're finding a bar that's in a neighborhood, there's a lot of noise." Wouldn't one expect a certain amount of noise when living next door to a bar? "The people who move in next to an airport complain the planes are loud," he says. "People who move in next to Yale Bowl complain about the noise of loudspeakers five weekends a year. Who knows what people think? The Yale Bowl has been there since before they were born."

Of Cunha, Somers says that he's been cooperative and "wants to be a good neighbor." The situation seems to have improved, though part of that, says Somers, may be the weather working its magic. "When you leave a bar and it's 4 degrees," he says, "you want to get in your car, warm it up and go home."

Newt's Cafe, on Whalley

Ernest Newton has owned Newt's Cafe on Whalley Avenue for the last 18 years. At 57, he says, he's faced with the loss of his livelihood. Since the city's campaign against "nuisance" bars began, he claims his club has lost "97 percent" of its business. A recent nearby shooting coupled with bad publicity and police raids have scared patrons away. If things don't pick back up soon, Newton says he will close the bar.

Newton's been outspoken about his belief that black kids ("I call them kids," Newton clarifies, "because they're so much younger than me") are being judged harshly and unfairly. "I feel hurt," he said on a recent afternoon in his office, surrounded by photos of his children and grandchildren and the functional clutter of a small business, "It's unfortunate it's got to be this way.

"The black kids that come here get targeted," he says, "I think they think all black kids are drug dealers and crooks, and they're not. There's a lot of good kids...they're like other kids, they want to drink, dance. They're harmless."

Newton says that he's never had "an incident" inside his bar, and that he can't control what happens in the surrounding neighborhood or on the sidewalk outside. On Feb. 2, for example, police arrested Ernest Pagan for the Christmas Eve murder of Tony Howell outside Newt's. The shooting death was a tragedy, says Newton. "I feel it's a shame [that] any young, black man loses his life." But he also believes that the altercation began elsewhere. He's convinced that closing down Newt's will only make things worse. "Some of these kids," he says, "can't go into other neighborhoods. They don't, and if they do, there'll be a problem."

Over at Taurus, Julius Dennis Jr., the club's head of security, echoes Newton's observation. The city is "partialled off," said Dennis, and there's a territoriality that comes with that. "I don't see closing as a peaceful move," he says, arguing that if Taurus closes, its patrons will move on to clubs in other neighborhoods. "It causes other young men to feel like they have to defend their territory," he said.

But DeStefano says that he doesn't see that violence in New Haven is driven by a territorial impulse, but by "narcotics, personal relationships, behavior clouded by being drunk."

"I think sometimes we have this romantic notion of neighborhood bars," DeStefano says. "When you reflect on violence in these places," he adds, he hasn't seen "the idea that it's neighborhood tension."

Though his shooting has been used to illustrate why the city's "hot spots" need to be closed, Troy Kelley echoes the arguments of Newton and Dennis. "If they close down all five black clubs, if they close the bars where the black kids go in our neighborhoods, we're all gonna go downtown," says Kelley, letting out an ominous laugh, "Who knows what'll happen then?"

The mayor and police chief, for their part, seem unwilling to back down.

In his State of the City address on Feb. 5, the mayor renewed his call for action. "We are and will continue to push problem bars hard," he said, "and we will not let our neighbors be intimidated by these bars." According to the mayor, the list of hot spots was not based on calls at all. "It's not just the call volume," he said, "it's the violence associated with these events."

Why, then, use call statistics, rather than the amount of violence, to illustrate the point?

"It was one set of statistics that was put on a slide," says DeStefano. "I have never represented that it was just calls for service that represented our concerns about these places." The mayor also insisted that other bars-predominantly white, downtown bars like TK's, Oracle, the Salty Dog, Rudy's and Toad's-have also seen increased enforcement for "unacceptable" and "uncivil" behavior. None of those bars, however, were on the mayor's bar blacklist. And though some of these places have seen temporary closures (Toad's doors will be shut for three months starting in May as punishment for allowing underage drinking), none have been publicly threatened with permanent closure. The mayor, however, says that race was not a factor in the creation of the list. "There are white bars," he says, "that have had dramatic enforcement, with far greater service interuption.

"There are plenty of African-American bars that are not a problem." He added, "there are plenty that serve Latino patrons that are not a problem."

Police Chief Ortiz refused to comment on the public perception that the bar crackdown is targeting bars with a predominantly black clientele. And when asked how the "hot spots" were determined, he downplayed the importance of the crime statistics. "The numbers don't tell the whole story," he said, "We are concerned about what drives police resources."

Cardinal's Club, Dixwell

At a recent Dixwell community meeting, Joyce Bellamy introduced herself as the new majority owner of Cardinal's Club. Much of the time, Cardinal's is a small space with surreal red lighting and a crew of older patrons. One of the bartenders, a kind-faced older man who calls himself "Mean Gene" McCoy, has worked at Cardinal's for 18 years. The place seems stuck in another era. There's a jukebox that plays old Motown and soul records. There are baseball trophies lining the bar counter and old team photos on the walls. Another bartender, a statuesque woman with a glamorous 'do, wears a stunning pompadour and dark shades. The customers take turns on a video game in the corner, and a cigarette machine survives the prohibition on smoking in bars, though it seems unused. While the bar has its late-night problems, during its early evening hours it's like a time machine into a 1960s America. One woman-who swore she was 50, though she looked half that-insisted on buying me a beer. She'd been to Mohegan Sun earlier in the day, and wanted to share her spoils. She doesn't usually go to Cardinal's, she said, and knew the bar had its problems. But she'd been invited by a co-worker and seemed as happy there as anywhere. It was a fine place, she explained, to bask in the glory of her penny-machine winnings.

Bellamy, Cardinal's new 70-percent owner, is an investor. She has a Ph.D. in public administration and lives outside the neighborhood. She's also unique among the owners of the "hot spot" bars: Bellamy doesn't seem to mind the bar being closed, so long as she can coax the city into helping her do something else with the space-something profitable. She'd like to make it "more upscale," or turn it into a restaurant. Bellamy does not see the city as a threat, as some of the other owners do. Instead, she sees it as a potential source of economic support. At the Dixwell meeting, people seemed both supportive of a renaissance for Cardinal's and supportive of Bellamy. Neighbor Barbara Watley says the bar is "not as loud," she says. Several others commented on the recent paint job to the building's exterior, turning it from red to white. A Feb. 15 meeting at Cardinal's, starting at 6:30 p.m., will give Dixwell another chance to talk about the club's fate.

Some citizens, certainly, would be happy to see each of the mayor's five "hot spot" bars go. Some, just as surely, would be heartbroken. Perhaps some places are so out of control that there is no other option but to close them. Maybe some of New Haven's bars should be closed.

Still, it's worth asking whether the bars themselves are the problem or if they are simply an easy target, while guns, drugs and gangs are not. Are these owners to blame for the problems at and near their bars, or are they easy scapegoats for problems beyond their control? And are all these bars equal? Is Taurus Cafe, where the owner has been accused of actively intimidating his opponents, the same as Owl's Nest, where everyone from the district manager to firefighting regulars are lining up in its defense? Will closing a bar in one neighborhood create trouble in another, nearby neighborhood? And what is a neighborhood without a neighborhood bar?

For now, all five bars remain open. Apparently, closing bars is no small task.

RELATED LINKS

Cover Story: New Haven Advocate