| May 20, 2005 The Frequent Flyer Club Under-Appreciated CSP Tackles Tough Job With Compassion by Owen Cruise, insurgent49 Take a walk downtown on a Friday night, sometime around midnight. As you walk down 4th Avenue, you’ll become aware that you are in a different Anchorage, one that is very much awake. You’ll pass the teeny-boppers in their punk costumes, the twenty-somethings bouncing from club to club, and, inevitably, the homeless drunk passed out against a building. Picture one of the large downtown hotels. Outside, someone is creating a disturbance. Hotel security is dealing with a clearly inebriated person, as one of them picks up the phone. Soon, a white van pulls up, and a couple of people step out, uniformed in blue jumpsuits. Perhaps they are already acquainted with this “client” and he is easily led into the back of the van. There are certain statistics that Alaskans are uncomfortably aware of, like the rates of alcoholism, domestic violence, and suicide; and ones maybe were aren’t aware of, like the incredibly high instance of rape. There are many programs and organizations out there addressing these social ills. Some are well known, others less so. 
I’d like to introduce you to the Community Service Patrol.
They’re men and women out on the streets every day and night,
taking care of business many would probably like to ignore. The
Community Service Patrol (or CSP) run vans around the greater downtown
Anchorage area. They pick up persons not able to take care of
themselves, most likely from the abuse of alcohol. They are
usually brought to the CSP transfer station to sober up and get a warm
place to sleep.Now meet Diane Patrick, accupressurist, welder, longtime employee and now manager of the CSP. She happily agreed to sit down with Insurgent49 and explain the history and inner workings of the CSP. The CSP had its start in the early 80’s, and spent its early years being juggled between different organizations, most notably the Salvation Army. Clients would be brought to various facilities around Anchorage. Several things became apparent early on, one being the high cost of a detox facility. Also, there was a need for a service that wouldn’t tie up the Anchorage Police Dept. and the hospitals. And so the service evolved into what it is today. Currently, the CSP operates under the umbrella of the Anchorage Downtown Partnership. The ADP is a non-profit group composed of business and property owners. Their stated goal is to make downtown Anchorage “Clean, Safe, and Vital”. They sponsor events around town such as the tree lighting during the holiday season, and music events like the Live at Five concert series. They have an obvious interest in having a service like the CSP around. The CSP runs their vans on two shifts, noon to 8pm, and 8pm to 4am. From 4am to noon there is no van service. Another van shift during this time is just one item on their wish list. The vans run patrols, and are commonly called for pick-ups. The CSP are able to take people into custody under Alaska Statute Title 47. This law allows them to take people into protective custody if they are a danger to themselves or others. The van crew is composed of a driver and a state certified Emergency Medical Tech, the EMT being there to determine if the potential client is at risk. The transfer station also has an EMT on duty at all times. “We don’t approach this from a security base position, we approach it from a medical base,” says Diane. Clients are brought to the Transfer Station, attached to the jail on 3rd Ave. They are first given a breathalyzer test. If their blood-alcohol content is .350 or higher, they get a trip to the hospital, to make sure they are healthy enough to be at the station. If the client is unconscious, or their level of consciousness is altered to a serious degree, or if there is a serious medical situation, the fire department is called in. “They’re an incredible back-up to us, medically,” Diane says, “if something is beyond our scope of practice.” The transfer station is open 24 hours a day, seven days a week, 365 days a year. It is staffed by one EMT and two Intake Specialists. They support the EMT by cleaning and conducting behavioral management. A 10:1 ratio is maximum under the law. In the cases where the number of clients exceeds the ratio, the van is called out of service to help at the station. When that happens, there is no one left to conduct pick-ups. This is happening more and more frequently, as the number of visitors to the station has increased annually since 2001. The station itself is a simple affair. It contains a long desk, manned by CSP personnel, and an open area for the clients. Its got a concrete floor, bare walls, and a television mounted high above the client area, constantly playing movies. When I entered, most of the temporary residents were fast asleep, save for one man who explained that they were there “taking people’s money.” I didn’t expect to be surprised, or uncomfortable by the scene; after all, don’t we see these people everyday? The one thing that did catch me off guard was the smell. I’d never encountered the odor of unwashed bodies in such a concentrated way before. Diane pointed out the thin black mats that they were sleeping on. She had recently gotten a grant to buy the mats. Before the mats, the clients slept on the hard concrete floor. The staff had already seen an improvement in the mood of the place; the clients seemed less restless, less combative. I was struck by how much of a difference such a little thing could make. The CSP staff are the heart and soul of the operation. It takes a uniquely patient person to hold out at the CSP. The employee turnover rate is extremely high. Diane Patrick explains, “I train people sometimes and, after a couple hours out in the transfer station, they don’t want to do it. The clients a lot of times will spit on you, hit you, scream at you, literally attack you… it’s an extremely difficult job. You have to have a really good sense of humor and a very strong desire to help people, or you can’t do this job.” The wages, while not minimum wage, are certainly not high enough to keep people around if they don’t believe in what they’re doing. I was introduced to a driver/EMT pair: Jason, the driver, and Richard, an EMT. Richard mentioned the fact that a job as a CSP EMT is hands-on medical experience. He plans on becoming a paramedic, and he’s dealing with emergency situations everyday. When I asked for an experience that has stuck with them, they had trouble picking. They remembered seeing an “incredibly” intoxicated woman, barely able to walk. They once found a completely sober male trying to drag her into the woods. When they stopped and questioned him, he claimed “…oh I know her, I’ll take care of her.” Recalls Richard, “She was kind of a ‘frequent flyer’, and we’d seen her around a lot of times before. We knew it wasn’t the case, so we took her into custody and brought her here.”  Jason tells me that it’s pretty common for them to be threatened physically. They swing at them, they kick, they bite. Jason’s been chased by clients wielding 40oz beer bottles. There is a list of things that the van crew would prefer not to deal with: dark alleys, crowds, and private residences. New clients automatically raise suspicion. “We come across someone we haven’t seen before, it sends little flags in our head, like ‘what’s goin on?’ when they’re not ‘frequent flyers’ a lot of times we don’t smell alcohol, we have to wonder what’s really going on…” The van crew comes across drug overdoses, and victims of brutal beatings. Sometimes they can recognize a diabetic emergency that someone mistook for intoxication. They’ve even given medical care at the scene of auto accidents. In these serious cases, they’ll provide what care they can , before an ambulance and paramedics arrive. Their services are extremely valuable in the winter, when inebriates are in imminent danger of dying from overexposure. It’s with a hint of pride that I’m shown one of the CSP vans. It’s nothing fancy, but it works. It comes complete with a wall between the cab and the passenger area, and a slick retro 1970’s era gurney. They are allowed to transport up to five people at one time, but I’m told that’s pushing it. Things can get a little feisty in the back of the van. “They don’t puke as much as you’d think,” Richard tells me, ruining my imagined version of events. I left the van crew to return to business as usual (or unusual) near midnight. I showed up on a relatively mellow Friday night, but the CSP staff has dealt with everything. I’ve developed a strong respect for the CSP. Only a few weeks ago, I had never heard of them or the work they do. Unfortunately, some of the attention they’ve gotten has been negative. There have been claims that they beat people up, and steal their possessions while at the station. I can’t give any evidence either way, but I observed a small, dedicated group of people out to do some good for their fellow man. So, to the Community Service Patrol, this is my humble pat on the back. Keep it up. Owen Cruise is a freelance journalist, husband, and father who lives in an undisclosed location in Eagle River, Alaska. He can be reached at owen@insurgent49.com. |
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http://testkirkcom.web115. discountasp.net/Content/ services.asp Anchorage Downtown Partnership homepage - also by this
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2005
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Reserved. in-sur-gent (in sur'jent), n. 1. a member of a group which revolts against the policies of its leadership. |
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