GANGS. DRUGS. GUNFIRE. SCARED RESIDENTS SAY NOTHING IN FEAR OF RETALIATION. WELCOME TO ... THE WITCH'S HAT SILENT SUFFERING THE NORM IN PART OF NORTH HILLS-PANORAMA CITY.

Byline: RACHEL URANGA

Staff Writer

NORTH HILLS -- Victoria Castaneda saw an unconscious woman sprawled over a washing machine in her apartment building's laundry room last December -- and walked away.

Too afraid to call police, she did what all too many of her neighbors do when confronted with trouble or possible crime: absolutely nothing.

Afraid that gangsters and drug dealers in her building would think she was a snitch, she quietly slipped back into her one-bedroom unit, closed the door and began playing with her four children.

"I was just scared for the children," the 33-year-old said. "If they find out I called the police, I will have nothing to defend me."

Castaneda's apprehensions are a familiar refrain in this slice of the east side of North Hills and west side of Panorama City that is fraught with crime and poverty.

For nearly two years, Los Angeles police and city agencies have tried to rein in violence in this 2-square-mile area -- reaching out to residents, setting up neighborhood watches, picking up trash and encouraging apartment owners to install surveillance cameras.

But their efforts have faltered.

Dubbed the Safer Cities Initiative, the plan replicated in high-crime areas from Skid Row to Hollywood to Baldwin Village was supposed to bring a renaissance to this long-suffering area.

Other Safer Cities areas received more than double the police presence, and crime plummeted. The Skid Row area -- with violent crime down sharply -- is being touted by LAPD as a shining example of what Safer Cities can do.

But in the San Fernando Valley, violent crime has jumped 29 percent from September to May over the same period a year ago, and overall crime has risen 12 percent.

Through a spokesman, Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa, who just 10 months ago declared the Valley effort a success, admitted more resources are needed.

"The first year of Safer Cities saw a 16 percent reduction in violent crime, but LAPD must now redouble efforts to reverse the recent trend," spokesman Gil Duran said.

"The mayor is committed to providing whatever resources are necessary to confront this trend and increase police presence in high-crime neighborhoods."

But it is a community wall of silence that most frustrates officers and detectives, whose list of unsolved crimes grows -- not because residents don't witness crime but because few are willing to come forward, even anonymously.

"I have said time and time again, if people depend on the police for everything for the quality of life, then they have failed miserably," said LAPD Assistant Chief Earl Paysinger, one of the department's top leaders.

"People can't be paralyzed by the bogeyman. I don't want to make light of their circumstance, but I can't tell you how many times ... you beg and plead (for) people to be participants and willing partners."

Police and city officials say a combination of neighborhood apathy, poverty, high density and gangs has made the region more challenging than others. And they are understaffed, making it tough to reach out to an immigrant community already reluctant to speak to police.

But residents are scared and think officers ignore them. Gunfire often pierces the night. Drug dealing on the sidewalks is common. And nearly everyone has a story about a murder, gun-running or prostitution.

In some ways, Castaneda is an exception to the norm. Her husband is one of a handful of residents active in the local neighborhood council. And she stays informed about community activities.

But she, too, hesitates to call police. She's never been personally threatened, but here, rumors and fear go a long way. She has heard stories about cars being stolen and women being beaten after reporting a crime.

That day in December when Castaneda went back to her apartment after seeing the unconscious woman in her laundry room, she heard shuffling in front of her apartment.

When she peeked out, she saw someone carrying the woman past the building's broken security gates to a grassy patch, where she was dumped.

A few minutes later, an ambulance arrived. Nobody was there to identify the woman.

The Witch's Hat

For 30 years, this area crammed with rent-controlled apartments has been one of the Valley's most violent.

Five rival gangs claim the territory bordered by Nordhoff Street to the north, Roscoe Boulevard to the south, Van Nuys Boulevard to the east and the San Diego Freeway to the west.

Known as The Witch's Hat for its cursed history and a curved street that, when viewed on a map, is pointed at the top, the neighborhood has been responsible for more than 10 percent of all the Valley's gang crime every year since 2001.

But last September, it finally looked like things were turning around. Villaraigosa and LAPD Chief William Bratton celebrated the one-year anniversary of the Safer Cities Initiative by proclaiming its successes.

Under the plan, Bratton had assigned eight extra officers to the neighborhood and pushed an innovative program based on the "broken windows" theory -- focusing on quality-of-life issues and cleaning up everything from shattered street lights to discarded couches.

City agencies combined their efforts and began to paint over graffiti, evict difficult tenants and close problem liquor stores to help lower crime.

The program was deemed so successful that on that September day last year, Villaraigosa stood in front of Las Brisas Bar on Parthenia Street and declared, "This is just the beginning."

City Attorney Rocky Delgadillo had negotiated a deal with the bar's owner to shut down what the city saw as a magnet for crime and open four smaller businesses including a nail salon, an ice cream shop and a shoe store.

They were hailed as symbols of a comeback. Villaraigosa and Bratton unveiled an expansion of the Safer Cities Initiative to Skid Row.

Since then, violent crime in the controversial downtown area has dropped 38 percent. In Baldwin Village, where another Safer Cities plan started in 2003, violent crime has been cut in half.

But walk by the Parthenia shoe store and ask its husband-wife team of Jaime and Ana Rojas what they think of Safer Cities, and they scoff.

On a recent afternoon, a wiry, soiled man was curled up just feet from the store's entrance.

"Villaraigosa declared this a success?" Jaime Rojas asked rhetorically as he pointed to the man lying on the ground. "We don't feel safe in this zone."

His wife has opened the back door only to find hookers in the parking lot. Homeless people, drunks and addicts often sleep in an alley that abuts the store.

"You close a bar, then all the drunks that were once there are now in the street," he said.

But LAPD Capt. Jorge Villegas said the department continues to make strides in the neighborhood.

Two community police officers, Mike Braun and Ed Dominguez -- part counselors, part cops -- attend neighborhood watch meetings and advise apartment managers and owners.

And although aggravated assaults were up 67 percent from September to May over the previous year, the homicide rate was down 78 percent.

"When you look at arrests, we are making more arrests, more contacts," said Villegas, who oversees the LAPD's Mission Division. "We had a 20 percent increase in arrests year to date."

Standing in front of what police say was once the hub of Langdon Street gang and a "McDonald's of drugs," as Villegas called it, Delgadillo on Friday touted his office's efforts.

Since Safer Cities launched, there have been 41 evictions. A deputy city attorney works with neighbors, landlords and managers to clean up the facade, add surveillance cameras and push out unruly residents.

"Nobody is claiming victory, but if you work with us, you are moving forward," Delgadillo said.

As he stood in front of several television cameras, a nearby apartment manager watched from her driveway.

Holding a baby in her arms, she didn't want to give her name. But she rolled her eyes when asked about the cleanup efforts.

Gang members have regularly harassed her and her 22-year-old son, she said. And when called, she said, police usually take hours to respond.

No longer shining

Once a gem of the Valley, this area sat in the shadow of a bustling General Motors plant and was home to a Robinson's department store replete with a streaming fountain and extensive cosmetics center.

But by the 1980s, wealthy white residents had moved west. Poor Latino immigrants replaced them, along with drug dealers and slumlords.

Now, nearly one in four residents of east North Hills and west Panorama City lives below the poverty level, according to the 2000 Census.

"It's so sad because nobody says, 'What a beautiful place to live.' They live here out of necessity," said Marta Barraza, who has worked as a secretary for Our Lady of Peace Church for 15 years.

Rows of tattered apartments are filled with tenants often living as many as eight to a unit. Built between the late 1960s and early 1980s, the mostly two- to three-story apartments often surround courtyards. Front doors and windows face the open area.

It's easy to see neighbors come and go, who visits and when they leave.

Residents say they dread police, who might knock on their door and make them look like a snitch. But the most stubborn problem, apartment managers say, is bureaucratic.

Most of the apartments are under strict rent-control rules that dictate how evictions are carried out. Under those rules, bad seeds can be kicked out if somebody complains.

But much of Delgadillo's ability to evict often rests on the testimony of residents who complain. Under city law, the person who files a complaint is named on an eviction notice -- which many say serves as a bull's-eye.

"It's absolutely crazy," said Guy Stadig, who manages two buildings of 100 units on Rayen Street. "Nobody will do it. People are too scared to turn in their neighbors so they won't be victimized."

Luis Maoraga, a former gang member who has lived in the area for more than 20 years, says even landlords are reluctant to get involved.

"Most of the managers here are afraid of intimidation and retaliation," he said. "They have tenants that are gang members that say, 'If you are going to do something, then you know what's going to happen."'

City Councilman Richard Alarcon, who represents the area, says there is no quick fix.

"The fact that it's been two years and we have seen a higher rate of crime is not necessarily indicative that it's (Safer Cities is) not a success," he said.

Efforts continue to rehabilitate apartments, and Alarcon hopes economic development plans around the Panorama City Mall will bring hope and jobs.

But he also said the city needs to encourage more homeownership in the area mostly occupied by those reluctant to leave rent-controlled apartments, sometimes as low as $500 a month for a three-bedroom. In Panorama City, two out of three residents rent.

State Sen. Alex Padilla, D-Van Nuys, who preceded Alarcon as the area's councilman, said he pushed the concept of homeownership, negotiating more condominium development.

Those projects are still mostly under construction, including a bright yellow complex along Nordhoff Street and another cluster of homes along Rayen.

On Roscoe, in an abandoned lot where a Montgomery Ward department store once sat, a 500-unit, 12-story residential tower is proposed.

Braun, who patrols the area, said he dreads its arrival. It will mean more traffic, more people, more crime, more victims, he said.

And for Maria, who declined to give her real name because she's afraid of the area's gang members, those homes seem far out of reach.

She rents a three-bedroom apartment she shares with seven others. And she doesn't sleep until she hears her grown son arrive home from work.

While waiting for him one night recently, a volley of shots rang out.

"I had my Bible and I said, 'God take care of me, my children,'" she said.

Rival gangs had pulled in front of her complex and fired several shots. Her son had just pulled in the driveway. He was safe, for now.

"Everyone here is afraid," she said. "There is nothing positive on this street."

rachel.uranga(at)dailynews.com

[phone]

CAPTION(S):

3 photos, box, map

Photo:

(1 -- color) Victoria Castaneda wonders about her future living with her husband and children in a troubled part of the North Hills-Panorama City area.

(2 -- color) Rosa Belmonte, right, listens as officials at a news conference talk about improved security against gangs at an apartment complex on Rayen Street in the North Hills area.

(3) Guy Stadig, who manages two apartment buildings on Rayen Street in the North Hills area, shows Los Angeles City Attorney Rocky Delgadillo the security system in operation at the complex.

Tina Burch/Staff Photographer

Box:

Safer cities

SOURCE: LAPD

Map:

Area of initiative

Gregg Miller/Staff Artist