(BALTIMORE – July 15, 2025) – West Baltimore’s relentless struggle with drugs is no recent development. The roots run deep. Once a vibrant cultural hub that hosted the greatest stars in Black America, Historic Pennsylvania Avenue is now a symbol of decline — plagued by heroin, cocaine, crack, and now, fentanyl. Last week’s deadly outbreak was just the latest chapter in a long, painful story.
But this crisis is not just about drugs. It’s about multigenerational trauma — both from addiction and from the economy of dealing. For some, dealing becomes as addictive as using. And the cost? Broken families, blighted blocks, shuttered schools, and a community stripped of its soul.
Some scholars refer to it as a “permanent underclass.” Is that what these zip codes — 21215, 21216, 21217, 21205 — have become? Are our children destined for the justice system instead of tech school or college? Is the pipeline that clear-cut?
Now that Pennsylvania Avenue is finally back in the spotlight, I say it’s about time. This historic corridor, once filled with promise, has for too long been left to fend for itself. Since the 2015 uprising after Freddie Gray’s death, Penn-North has become a de facto open-air drug market — where the only rule is: don’t shoot. Sell all the dope you want — just don’t kill anyone.
And law enforcement? After then-State’s Attorney Marilyn Mosby charged six officers and the federal consent decree followed, it seemed like the Baltimore Police Department backed away — taking a posture of minimal effort.
And they’ve stayed that way.
I remember when white addicts used to get chased off by police when they rolled into Penn-North. Now, they show up in droves, and no one blinks. You won’t hear Fox News talk about that — about the thousands of white addicts sleeping under bridges, in alleyways, and right by the Avenue Market. There’s an entire encampment by the train tracks that hardly anyone talks about.
One of the most damaging decisions ever made was the removal of community officers from the Avenue Market — officers like Evan Anderson, Iris Martin, and retired Officer Chuck Lee. Trained by Sgt. Kirk Fleet, these officers knew the community. They didn’t just police — they served. They helped people get food, jobs, and dignity.
They were trusted.
When they were pulled out, chaos followed. Who made that call? And why? If the goal is public safety and rebuilding trust, why dismantle what was working?
These officers were more than uniforms — they were fixtures. Community members came to them for help, guidance, and support. That’s the policing we need — rooted in respect and relationships, like Violet Hill Whyte once exemplified.
Yes, you might still see flashing lights when you pass Penn-North — but lights alone won’t save us. Now that the cameras are back, we need more than talk. We need action.
Penn-North belongs to everyone. It cannot remain a haven for drugs while the rest of West Baltimore fights to rise.
If the West North Avenue Development Authority is serious about rebuilding, then this moment is make-or-break. Upton. Sandtown-Winchester. Druid Heights. The Avenue Market. They will not thrive until the open-air drug market is addressed — decisively and comprehensively.
And while we’re at it: when are they going to replace the Avenue Market? I’ve been inquiring for 25 years. Promise after promise, and still — nothing. Am I missing something? It’s a damn food desert! My God, Doc Cheatham speaks about it daily! Somebody must’ve heard of malnutrition by now. Geesh!
If we want a New Baltimore, it begins here. And it begins now.
