Efforts to reduce "joyriding" are working

SENSITIVITIES have developed in the Republic's cities as the crime wave gives rise to the perception - real or imagined - that…

SENSITIVITIES have developed in the Republic's cities as the crime wave gives rise to the perception - real or imagined - that things are worse than they seem to those living in the cities.

The "stab city" tag that has become attached to Limerick is a case in point. The north side of Cork city is another. After four violent deaths in a year, the good people of Tralee, Co Kerry, are asking themselves whether or not the normally peaceful capital of the "Kingdom" is going to come in for the same type of negative attention. People do not like it when that happens. Community groups go on the defensive, asking why none of the good work seems to attract the same attention in the media.

Tourism interests worry about the down side for their industry. The Garda, too, often feels crime in the cities is being "over hyped".

In Cork, think of "joyriding", and only one area of the city comes to mind - the north side. This is the sprawling part of modern Cork, made up by and large of local authority houses. It contains pockets in which generations of families have not worked in years. Generally, unemployment is high. There are many single mothers and a huge young population. The area has not been blessed with great efforts on the infrastructure side to keep them off the streets. And there is "joyriding", or car theft as the Garda would prefer to call it.

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It is a sensitive issue. Hardworking local councillors, community leaders, and the majority of law abiding people on the north side are often incensed by the media's portrayal of parts of the area - such as Churchfield and Gurranebraher - as the "joyriding" capital of Ireland.

Is there no "joyriding"/car theft on the more affluent south side of the city? What is the obsession with the north side? Their anger is understandable, but the facts cannot be disputed.

The death last month of Christopher O'Flynn (11), from that part of the city, rekindled media debate on the issue.

ONCE again, the spotlight glared down on Cork's north side. The car in which the boy was a passenger was stolen on a Saturday shortly before 7.50 pm. By 8.15 p.m., his body was being taken from the mangled wreckage. Shocked neighbours spoke of a young life being snuffed out. His grieving mother on local radio described her anguish at clearing out her son's wardrobe. She was a good mother, she said. Dying like that was the last thing she wanted for Christopher.

The interview was profoundly moving, but seemed, again, to raise the questions that so torment the people of the area. What was it about this part of Cork that lent itself to the "hobby" of stealing cars and driving them at speed on roads never meant for this purpose? The question is not easily answered.

One year into his tenure, Chief Supt Adrian Culligan is adamant that the latest "joyriding" tragedy does not represent a new wave of juvenile crime. As Cork's leading Garda officer, he set out a year ago to deal with the problem, or phenomenon, as he has referred to it. And it was a phenomenon, and it did happen predominantly on the north side.

How else could one describe a situation in which droves of young people lined either sides of certain roads in the evenings to applaud and cheer as the stolen cars outbid each other in daredevil tactics? Some of the roads were named after the favourite brand of stolen car. "Opel Alley" was an example.

The Garda strategy was, and still is, not to give chase.

After the spate of "joyriding" about five years ago, Spike Island prison in Cork Harbour was used to lock up the offenders. It worked for a while, but once they were out again, the cycle continued. It was a macho, copy cat thing. The mark of being accepted by your peers was to show off in a stolen car. A sort of league existed.

The Garda began a programme of surveillance, trying to isolate the ringleaders. A policy of speedier handling of cases in the courts was introduced.

The Department of Justice received files from the Garda authorities in Cork suggesting certain offenders should not be granted early release from the prisons. It worked. The "joyriding" epidemic - until the death of Christopher O'Flynn - had been reduced to the occasional incident.

"THERE is no question that we got it under control. And we did it by working through community groups and by intervening at different levels," Chief Supt Culligan said. He was referring the community policing strategy that was introduced the juvenile diversion programme aimed at keeping first offenders out of the courts and the plan to confront them with what car theft means to the victims and their families.

"When you consider that the cost of putting an adult behind bars for a year is estimated to be about £40,000, even saving one youngster a year from crime pays its own way as far as we are concerned," he added.

Allied to these initiatives is a programme in which the Garda liaises with the local authorities inbecity and relevant Government Departments to provide facilities on the north side. These include the Hollyhill Youth Project, which seeks to give young people hope, and opportunities to return to education and get involved in sports.

Developed at a cost of £1.6 million, the project has a full time management structure with a garda as board chairman. Regarded as an exemplary scheme, it has attracted interest from Sweden.

On the south side, the Mahon Action for Youth Scheme - again with direct input from the Garda - up and running. It shows, as does Hollyhill, that modern policing in the cities has a huge social dimension. There are plans for a similar project in the Glen area of Cork, where there have been problems in the past.

"Joyriding" on the north side of Cork has now been dealt with to the satisfaction of the Garda.

Why did it happen in the first place? Why the north side? "The parenting deficit was the single biggest factor," replies Chief Supt Culligan. Put simply, this means parents doing their own thing while their children are doing another.

"Things will develop when parents don't ask what their youngsters are doing or why they are not at home at a certain time. But we couldn't have achieved what we did without the enthusiastic support of the local community. It was a very community based effort, and it is not too often acknowledged that we have a terrific relationship with the community on the north side of Cork," he said.

New tactics, such as road narrowing measures, are about to be introduced in areas where "joy riding" predominated in the past, he added. This will cost about £250,000, but it should ensure access is denied to the racers and chasers. It may be that the "joy riding" epidemic in Cork is over.

The growing drugs menace has also been identified with Cork, abut Chief Supt Culligan says that the problem is being contained, and points out that unlike Dublin, Cork does not have a heroin or cocaine trade. Why should this be?

The extraordinary answer is that the drug barons in Cork have taken a decision not to allow heroin or cocaine on to their patch.

For their own reasons, they prefer to deal only in cannabis and ecstasy. In a sense, they are helping the Garda authorities. Four main families - well known to the Garda - are involved in the drug scene in Cork. They use a network of dealers, but the leaders stay well back from the action.

The Criminal Assets Bureau will become the main weapon in the attempt to put them behind bars. In the meantime, there is ongoing action against the pushers and dealers. Already this year, there have been almost 40 prosecutions. "We do not say that we have beaten the problem but we are satisfied that it is being contained. The drug scene, like child abuse, is one of the modern scourges. But it exists, it is a fact. Things could be a lot worse in Cork," Chief Supt Culligan said.

Chief Supt Culligan's father was a Garda sergeant in Kerry. His brother, Mr Patrick Culligan, became Garda Commissioner another brother, Mr John Culligan, is a senior member of the force in Cork; and his daughter, Suzanne, is a garda in Dublin. He started on the beat in Cork over 30 years ago. He has seen the rise in crime and watched it develop in ways never imagined when he first wore a uniform.

But he believes there are grounds for optimism. The drug problem in Cork could have taken a much more sinister direction; the "joyriding" problem had threatened to get out of hand, but this has not happened.

"We are not saying that the crime problem has been solved, but we do believe we are on top of the situation," he said.