Exactly what my friends and I have been saying for years.
Leaderless Chicago street gangs vex police efforts to quell violence
A perfect description of Chicago street politics in 2016
It's just these young dumb cat's out here aimless, it ain't even over money.
When Lanarris Webster went to prison in 2010, the name of the reputed Gangster Disciples hit man still meant something in the blocks around Homan Avenue and Huron Street on the West Side. By the time he was paroled in February, that world had changed.
Webster, known on the street as "Baby Folks," returned to the corner he had once controlled to reassert his authority. But the 34-year-old did not last long. Last month, in the middle of the afternoon, Webster happened upon a friend who was having his minivan fixed by a curbside mechanic. As the men chatted and shared a marijuana blunt, a gunman emerged from a vacant lot and began firing, police sources said. In a hail of gunfire, the friend scrambled away as Webster spun and dropped to the pavement.
When Chicago police arrived, they found Webster sprawled on the sidewalk, dying of a gunshot wound to the chest. Gunned down on the turf he once controlled, Webster was another casualty of the gang violence spinning out of control in the city this year.
Street gangs, once compared with Fortune 500 companies for their organizational skills and ruthless pursuit of profits, are now mostly made up of small, leaderless sets of members bound together by personal relationships rather than geographic or narcotics-trade ties. Personal insults and petty conflicts, often inflamed by social media posts, are just as likely to lead to a shooting as is competition for drug turf. Taken together, these changes have created an anything-goes atmosphere on the streets.
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Not too many years ago, the organization of Chicago's gangs was very different. From the 1970s into the early 2000s, street gangs in Chicago were sprawling, hierarchical organizations built to reap the profits of the drug trade. Often the highest-ranking leaders wielded power and influence beyond street crime. Even from prison, kingpins such as Jeff Fort, Larry Hoover and Willie Lloyd controlled multimillion-dollar drug operations and armies with thousands of soldiers. Fort and Hoover even dabbled in politics, and Fort eventually went to prison for trying to negotiate a terrorism-for-hire deal with the Libyan dictator Moammar Gadhafi.
When federal authorities prosecuted the hierarchy of the Black Disciples in 2004, the investigation revealed that one of the gang's top leaders, Donnell Jehan, had the use of then-Ald. Arenda Troutman's SUV. Troutman denied she had a personal relationship with the gang leader, known as "Scandalous." But Jehan was part of an organization that laundered its money by investing in apartment buildings and businesses, and Troutman was later convicted of corruption charges.
The prosecution of the Black Disciples was one of the last large takedowns by the federal authorities of a gang hierarchy in Chicago. Leadership of other big gangs had been dismantled and imprisoned earlier, and with them went the centralized control of gang members.
By the mid-2000s, the rank and file were learning how to fend for themselves on the street. While gang members still identify with the old "nations," such as the Gangster Disciples, Black P-Stones, Vice Lords and Four Corner Hustlers, the sources said their real loyalties are to the smaller subsets with names like Killa Ward, Terror Dome or Gutterville.
Two federal law enforcement officers who regularly work with Chicago police on gang violence said that, among the black gangs, the old hierarchical rules of engagement "are nonexistent." One of the officers said he traces the change, in part, to the dismantling of public housing high-rises in Chicago.
Without those buildings, the officer said, there was no infrastructure around which to rebuild the gangs the way they used to exist.
"Public housing scattered," he said. "You used to have a hierarchy of people who had to live together. You have this big housing event, and now GDs are living with Four Corner Hustlers."
The disruption in gang structure also changed the way they did business, according to the investigators. Most of the drug dealing is now controlled by the individual sets, with the proceeds used to fuel activities on the street rather than funneled up a chain of command.
"There's not as much wealth out there," said one federal agent, who has participated in undercover operations against gangs. "They're like a virus that kills the host too quickly."
Another federal agent described an uptick in gang members stealing luxury vehicles from North Shore suburbs. But instead of selling the cars and SUVs to make money and fuel expansion, the federal agent said, "they're just driving them around and doing shootings."
Investigators said the breakdown in the system of control over gangs has fueled violence for violence's sake. Social media, they say, has contributed to the atmosphere of quick, pointless violence. YouTube is jammed with videos of amateur local rappers, surrounded by their friends chanting boasts and taunts. Often, the teens and young adults in the videos can be seen wielding firearms.
Investigators are troubled, too, by a breakdown in the code of what kind of violence is acceptable, and which targets are fair game.
The killing of 9-year-old Tyshawn Lee last year signaled that children could be targets in the ongoing disputes. Authorities allege Lee's father was a gang member involved in a string of retaliatory gang violence, and that his son was lured into an alley and killed as a substitute.
Investigators in the jail said they have found a similar, and deeply troubling, mentality among jail inmates affiliated with gangs. One teenage gang member from the South Side recounted a conflict in which the gang was targeting a rival who drove a black Mercedes-Benz.
"So they started targeting black Mercedeses," the county sheriff's investigator said. "They started shooting at any black Mercedes."
The results of Chicago's violent subculture have been alarming this year. As of Thursday afternoon, the city had seen at least 381 homicides, according to data compiled by the Tribune, with 65 killings in May and 70 in June. The bloodshed has put the city on pace to surpass 600 homicides in 2016, a total not seen since 2003.
Stopping the retaliatory violence that contributes to those sorts of figures has always been the biggest challenge for police. In 2003, when Chicago police first launched a version of the CompStat data analytics system, the principal goal was to quell retaliation. Data gathered from gang intelligence on the street was used to predict where retaliatory shootings were most likely to happen next. Police would then saturate those areas with large teams of officers.
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In 2004, the homicide rate dropped by 25 percent, taking the city's homicide tally below 600 for the first time in decades. But in the intervening decade, a combination of budget crises and misconduct scandals have undermined efforts by police. The big saturation teams — the Special Operations Section and Targeted Response Unit — have been disbanded, replaced by smaller units that investigators say do not have the same impact.
And levels of mistrust between police and the communities they patrol are high, making it difficult to solve gang crimes.
It is a problem Chicago police have had a significant hand in building. The culture of mistrust between the department and residents has a foundation based on much more than just the current uproar — the fatal shooting of Laquan McDonald by Officer Jason Van Dyke. Since the early 1980s, the department has repeatedly been tarnished by scandals involving detectives and special units assigned to combat gangs, and who instead have been convicted of committing ganglike crimes such as shaking down drug dealers. A veteran gangs detective said some fault for the spiking violence lies with a department on its heels because of the McDonald scandal.
"A lot of it has to do with the fact that we're not getting out of the car. Not locking people up — that's a huge thing," the detective said, noting that gang members have benefited from the troubles of the police. "We're no longer believable. They're more believable than we are. We're not believable in court, and we're having to add more and more things to show that what happened was actually what happened."
Half a block west of where Webster was killed, the Union Missionary Baptist Church has been holding nightly "tent revival" meetings in the parking lot. The Rev. Raymond Hillman hopes to show people that the community has something other than gunfire to offer after the sun goes down. When asked about a shooting that happened down the street on Ohio, he immediately blurted out, "Oh, yes. Baby Folks."
"With that murder, I had heard about it," Hillman said, noting he knew Webster by reputation only but was surprised by the brazen killing of a high-ranking Gangster Disciple. "I think that marks a shift."
Hillman said something needs to change with the level of mistrust with the police. The black community, he said, lacks the leadership to negotiate better relations with the police, and the police are too quick to write off every black man they encounter in certain neighborhoods.
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"We're going to need, I wouldn't say more police, but I'd say more compassion from them," Hillman said.
The situation, he said, is dire. Having grown up in the gang-afflicted ABLA Homes housing development, Hillman agrees that the breakup of public housing and scattering of gang members has caused confusion about gang alliances. That, he added, has resulted in more unpredictable violence.
"I felt safer there than I do in this kind of community," he said. In the housing developments, "we all knew each other."
The slaying of Webster remains unsolved, but police are pursuing leads that suggest he may have been shot by someone from a faction of the rival Vice Lords gang associating with members of the victim's own Gangster Disciples, sources said. The clues in his homicide mirror the emerging confusion about traditional gang alliances; that is, other gang members resisted Webster's efforts to reclaim his place, not giving him the deference he once enjoyed.
Webster's death also seems to be an example of the ongoing trend of indiscriminate violence when gang members are pursuing a target. A week before he was killed on the West Side, Webster was shot at but the gunfire missed, police sources said. But the gunman wounded four other people.