Four days before The Philadelphia Weekly printed its expose` on Philadelphia's 10 worst drug corners, Vern Anastasio, Democratic Candidate for First District City Council, and his team of volunteers - dubbed the A-Team - cleaned streets and a children's playground one-block from the City's number one drug hot-spot at Kensington and Somerset.

"The plan is to help these people take back their neighborhood," Anastasio said. "We cleaned up the needles, crack pipes, broken bottles and loose trash. Now we're going back to board up and tear down drug houses that are havens for dealers and users."

Read Steve Volk's Cover Story from The Philadelphia Weekly, part of which is included below.
(http://www.philadelphiaweekly.com/view.php?id=14558)

"1.) Kensington and Somerset sts., Kensington.

A man in boots and a denim jacket shakes a pill bottle at passers-by. Another man performs walk-up car service, doing a drug deal with two young men in baseball caps who roll up in a Civic.

This spot, under the El along heavily trafficked Kensington Avenue, has been a well-known heroin market for decades.

During a visit here last month it was easy to pick out the guy in charge of the street operation. A stocky dude in a hoodie, he never made a transaction himself. But guys who were making transactions continually drifted back to hand him money they'd collected.

After about an hour an older man arrived at the corner of Kensington and Somerset. He and the hoodie dude went for a walk, starting out north on Kensington, and were followed by a reporter. They turned east on Hart Lane, walking fast, and after momentarily disappearing from sight when turning north on Ruth Street, they emerged a few seconds later and followed another side street all the way back to Somerset.

They crossed back and forth as they walked, from one side of the street to the other, for no apparent purpose. And when they turned east on Somerset, retreating farther from the famous Kensington corner, the man in the hoodie nodded at another young man and ran his hand slowly over his head.

That man started toward the reporter, who'd been about a block behind the dealers and who now turned and started moving away.

Just then a young mother on the street cracked her son so hard the sound echoed off nearby row houses. The little boy's mouth opened, and for a few seconds he cried silently until he forced a wail up and out from his belly. His crying came in great sobs that arced high and reached impossible notes before crashing down in a series of low, guttural moans. Every time it seemed like he'd stopped, he'd start again. His crying-and the possibility of seeing a gun-chased the reporter all the way up the street."

We Are 12 Days Away From Changing Our City For the Better and Reclaiming Our Neighborhoods