[Infowarrior] - Lancaster, Pa., keeps a close eye on itself

[Richard Forno]

http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/nation/la-na-spycam-city21-2009jun21,0,4840616,full.story

Lancaster, Pa., keeps a close eye on itself

A vast and growing web of security cameras monitors the city of  
55,000, operated by a private group of self-appointed gatekeepers.  
There's been surprisingly little outcry.

By Bob Drogin
June 21, 2009

Reporting from Lancaster, Pa. -- This historic town, where America's  
founding fathers plotted during the Revolution and Milton Hershey  
later crafted his first chocolates, now boasts another distinction.

It may become the nation's most closely watched small city.

Some 165 closed-circuit TV cameras soon will provide live, round-the- 
clock scrutiny of nearly every street, park and other public space  
used by the 55,000 residents and the town's many tourists. That's more  
outdoor cameras than are used by many major cities, including San  
Francisco and Boston.

Unlike anywhere else, cash-strapped Lancaster outsourced its  
surveillance to a private nonprofit group that hires civilians to  
tilt, pan and zoom the cameras -- and to call police if they spot  
suspicious activity. No government agency is directly involved.

Perhaps most surprising, the near-saturation surveillance of a  
community that saw four murders last year has sparked little public  
debate about whether the benefits for law enforcement outweigh the  
loss of privacy.

"Years ago, there's no way we could do this," said Keith Sadler,  
Lancaster's police chief. "It brings to mind Big Brother, George  
Orwell and '1984.' It's just funny how Americans have softened on  
these issues."

"No one talks about it," agreed Scott Martin, a Lancaster County  
commissioner who wants to expand the program. "Because people feel  
safer. Those who are law-abiding citizens, they don't have anything to  
worry about."

A few dozen people attended four community meetings held last spring  
to discuss what sponsors called "this exciting public safety  
initiative." But opposition has grown since big red bulbs, which  
shield the video cameras, began appearing on corner after corner.

Mary Pat Donnellon, head of Mission Research, a local software  
company, vowed to move if she finds one on her block. "I don't want to  
live like that," she said. "I'm not afraid. And I don't need to be  
under surveillance."

"No one has the right to know who goes in and out my front door,"  
agreed David Mowrer, a laborer for a company that supplies quarry  
pits. "That's my business. That's not what America is about."

Hundreds of municipalities -- including Los Angeles and at least 36  
other California cities -- have built or expanded camera networks  
since the attacks of Sept. 11, 2001. In most cases, Department of  
Homeland Security grants helped cover the cost.

In the most ambitious project, New York City police announced plans  
several years ago to link 3,000 public and private security cameras  
across Lower Manhattan designed to help deter, track and detect  
terrorists. The network is not yet complete.

How they affect crime is open to debate. In the largest U.S. study,  
researchers at UC Berkeley evaluated 71 cameras that San Francisco put  
in high-crime areas starting in 2005. Their final report, released in  
December, found "no evidence" of a drop in violent crime but  
"substantial declines" in property crime near the cameras.

Only a few communities have said no. In February, the city council in  
Cambridge, Mass., voted not to use eight cameras already purchased  
with federal funds for fear police would improperly spy on residents.  
Officials in nearby Brookline are considering switching off a dozen  
cameras for the same reason.

Lancaster is different, and not just because it sits amid the rolling  
hills and rich farms of Pennsylvania Dutch country.

Laid out in 1730, the whole town is 4 square miles around a central  
square. Amish families still sell quilts in the nation's oldest public  
market, and the Wal-Mart provides a hitching post to park a horse and  
buggy. Tourists flock to art galleries and Colonial-era churches near  
a glitzy new convention center.

But poverty is double the state's average, and public school records  
list more than 900 children as homeless. Police blame most of last  
year's 3,638 felony crimes, chiefly thefts, on gangs that use  
Lancaster as a way station to move cocaine, heroin and other illegal  
drugs along the Eastern Seaboard.

"It's not like we're making headlines as the worst crime-ridden city  
in the country," said Craig Stedman, the county's district attorney.  
"We have an average amount of crime for our size."

In 2001, a local crime commission concluded that cameras might make  
the city safer. Business owners, civic boosters and city officials  
formed the Lancaster Community Safety Coalition, and the nonprofit  
organization installed its first camera downtown in 2004.

Raising money from private donors and foundations, the coalition had  
set up 70 cameras by last year. And the crime rate rose.

Officials explained the increase by saying cameras caught lesser  
offenses, such as prostitution and drunkenness, that otherwise often  
escape prosecution. The cameras also helped police capture and convict  
a murderer, and solve several other violent crimes.

Another local crime meeting last year urged an expansion of the video  
network, and the city and county governments agreed to share the $3- 
million cost with the coalition. Work crews are trying to connect 95  
additional high-resolution cameras by mid-July.

"Per capita, we're the most watched city in the state, if not the  
entire United States," said Joseph Morales, a city councilman who is  
executive director of the coalition. "There are very few public  
streets that are not visible to our cameras."

The digital video is transmitted to a bank of flat-screen TVs at  
coalition headquarters, several dingy offices beside a gas company  
depot. A small sign hangs outside.

On a recent afternoon, camera operator Doug Winglewich sat at a  
console and watched several dozen incoming video feeds plus a computer  
linked to the county 911 dispatcher. The cameras have no audio, so he  
works in silence.

Each time police logged a new 911 call, he punched up the camera  
closest to the address, and pushed a joystick to maneuver in for a  
closer look.

A license plate could be read a block away, and a face even farther  
could be identified. After four years in the job, Winglewich said, he  
"can pretty much tell right away if someone's up to no good."

He called up another feed and focused on a woman sitting on the curb.  
"You get to know people's faces," he said. "She's been arrested for  
prostitution."

Moments later, he called police when he spotted a man drinking beer in  
trouble-prone Farnum Park. Two police officers soon appeared on the  
screen, and as the camera watched, issued the man a ticket for  
violating a local ordinance.

"Lots of times, the police find outstanding warrants and the guy winds  
up in jail," said Winglewich, 49, who works from a wheelchair on  
account of a spinal injury.

If a camera records a crime in progress, the video is given to police  
and prosecutors, and may be subpoenaed by defense lawyers in a  
criminal case. More than 300 tapes were handed over last year, records  
show.

Morales says he refuses all other requests. "The divorce lawyer who  
wants video of a husband coming out of a bar with his mistress, we  
won't do it," he said.

No state or federal law governs use of public cameras, so Morales is  
drafting ethical guidelines for the coalition's 10 staffers and dozen  
volunteers. Training has been "informal" until now, he said, but will  
be stiffened.

Morales said he tries to weed out voyeurs and anyone who might use the  
tapes for blackmail or other illegal activity.

"We are not directly responsible to law enforcement or government at  
this point," he said. "So we have to be above suspicion ourselves."

Morales, 45, has a master's degree in public administration. Born in  
Brooklyn, N.Y., he grew up mostly on Army bases. He was accepted to  
the U.S. Naval Academy, he said, but turned it down. "I made a lot of  
bad choices," he said. "Substance abuse was part of that."

Mary Catherine Roper, staff attorney for the American Civil Liberties  
Union of Pennsylvania, says the coalition's role as a self-appointed,  
self-policed gatekeeper for blanket surveillance of an entire city is  
unique.

"This is the first time, the only time, I've heard of it anywhere,"  
she said. "It is such a phenomenally bad idea that it is stunning to  
me."

She said the coalition structure provides no public oversight or  
accountability, and may be exempt from state laws governing release of  
public records.

"When I hear people off the street can come in and apply to watch the  
camera on my street, now I'm terrified," she added. "That could be my  
nosy neighbor, or my stalker ex-boyfriend, or a burglar stalking my  
home."

J. Richard Gray, Lancaster's mayor since 2005, backs the program but  
worries about such abuses. He is a former defense attorney, a self- 
described civil libertarian, and a free-spirited figure who owns 12  
motorcycles.

"I keep telling [the coalition] you're on a short leash with me," Gray  
said. "It's one strike and you're out as far as I'm concerned."

His campaign treasurer, Larry Hinnenkamp, a tax attorney and certified  
public accountant, took a stronger view. He "responded with righteous  
indignation" when a camera was installed without prior notice by his  
home.

"I used to give it the finger when I walked by," Hinnenkamp said.

But Jack Bauer, owner of the city's largest beer and soft drink  
distributor, calls the network "a great thing." His store hasn't been  
robbed, he said, since four cameras went up nearby.

"There's nothing wrong with instilling fear," he said.

bob.drogin at latimes.com