WATERLOO — A young woman in a short, tight dress teeters on high heels on the sidewalk. She turns to the street, pulls at her top, and exposes a breast to the passing traffic. A young man next to her pretends to stroke himself.
A giddy crowd surrounds them on the lawn of a student-rented house. Someone holds up a sign that says: “You Honk We Drink.” It’s early morning and the party already seems wild.
“That’s what’s wrong with Albert Street,” Deborah Easson sighs.
Albert Street is ground zero for university students behaving badly. Two permanent residents say they have endured all they can take.
“Behaviour has changed to something you can’t really appreciate unless you live here. It’s kind of a shock,” says Easson. “We are so marginalized at this point, we are the outsiders.”
Police records support her contention of a street under stress.
Between Nov. 18, 2005 and Nov. 17, 2008, Waterloo Regional Police were contacted about 2,486 incidents on Albert Street that were not 911 emergencies, according to an analysis by The Record. This averages more than two calls to police per day.
Some commercial streets were busier. But no other residential street in Waterloo generated as many non-emergency calls to police, according to records released under a freedom-of-information request.
Activities on Albert drew 266 noise complaints, the most for any street in Waterloo Region.
Residents called police 171 times for unknown reasons and 128 times to complain about illegal parking. They contacted police 107 times to report someone sick or injured. Other leading calls were to report traffic collisions, property damage, thefts, break-and-enters and disturbances.
Albert Street also generated 911 calls but the records released on emergencies are incomplete. On average, 911 calls account for only six per cent of calls to police.
Albert Street runs through student-dominated neighbourhoods where up to 72 per cent of dwellings are rented out. The street has 73 lodging houses, each licensed for four or more tenants. It passes by Wilfrid Laurier University, near the University of Waterloo.
Some students who reside on Albert admit they like to party. They can see how this might bother some neighbours. But they also resent armed police and unarmed bylaw officers showing up regularly at their doors and wonder: Shouldn’t neighbours expect parties on a student street?
“It’s not like we do it every single night,” says Pat McDonald, a recent Laurier graduate.
“We aren’t rude to neighbours. We keep the property clean. We throw a party here or there but who doesn’t?” Laurier student Tom Biec says.
Police records suggest a strong link between Albert Street stresses and the student lifestyle.
In September, when university students return to classes, calls to police peak to more than three per day, on average. Calls fall off by almost half when students are away in July and August.
Calls to police fall in December when many students go home for Christmas. But complaints spike again in March. Residents blame student parties that launch around St. Patrick’s Day.
On St. Patrick’s Day this year, police laid 70 liquor charges in campus neighbourhoods, arrested one person for public intoxication, and issued three noise fines. Waterloo bylaw officers issued seven tickets and visited 13 student houses, asking residents to clean up debris and broken bottles.
Friday, March 17, 2006. Waterloo Regional Police take their first complaint from Albert Street before 2:30 a.m. when someone reports an unwanted person. Another call comes in just after 4 a.m. to report property damage.
As St. Patrick’s Day unfolds, police are called seven more times. There’s a reported automobile collision, a complaint about illegal parking and a call about a bad driver. The first noise complaint arrives just before midnight. Police respond by 1 a.m. and spend 11 minutes at the scene sorting it out.
Residents call police four more times on Saturday, March 18. Someone is reported sick or injured at 1:36 a.m. There’s a hit-and-run called in just before 4 a.m. The second noise complaint of the weekend arrives at 10:22 p.m. Minutes later, police take a complaint about a disturbance.
A third noise complaint arrives at 12:26 a.m. Sunday, March 19. Police respond at 12:44 a.m. and stay 46 minutes at the scene. In the early afternoon, police are called to help someone who’s sick or injured. The weekend concludes with 15 incidents reported over three days.
Easson was raised in the house she now owns near Columbia Street. She remembers that families often boarded students, who brought energy to Albert Street.
But today, students rent out entire houses. The balance and diversity is gone. “They roam the neighbourhood in groups, drinking and throwing up on our lawns,” Easson says.
Sidewalks are littered with glass from broken bottles, she says. Passersby urinate on lawns and in backyards. They shout at night and wake people up. A student neighbour has yelled at Easson for complaining to police.
Tenants park on lawns and party in front yards. They light fireworks and bonfires in backyards, sometimes trashing fences for wood. This winter, students built and displayed an explicit snow sculpture of a naked, headless female body, legs splayed open. Student leaders and police asked tenants to demolish it after it sparked complaints.
“It’s just disgusting, vulgar behaviour,” says Christine Carmody, who’s raising two sons, aged five and two, in a charming house near University Avenue. “Unless they put a police officer outside my house 24 hours a day, my peace will be disturbed. It is impossible to stop the noise.”
Carmody cites many disruptions. Someone hurled a 12-kilogram cable box through her window. A strange man refused to stay away from her backyard, even after she yelled at him. Student neighbours held a pool party so noisy she later went over and read them the riot act. An intoxicated youth drank beer in her driveway, kicked at her garage door and then went into her backyard, while 400 people partied at the student house next door.
“We know it’s a tough situation,” Waterloo Mayor Brenda Halloran says. Last fall, she watched police bust up a giant, out-of-control party at the student house next door to Carmody.
Some students see tensions differently. Ten students who live next door to Carmody resent being stuck with five $300 noise tickets last fall, within two months.
They admit they can be loud. They even called police on themselves last Halloween, to help break up a giant party. Yet they also feel unfairly targeted and wonder if a way can be found to allow parties without the risk of costly fines.
“I’m feeling there’s a way there could be a middle ground,” Pat McDonald says. He wonders if neighbours and authorities could support eight party exemptions a year, for events like Homecoming and St. Patrick’s.
It bothers University of Waterloo student John Bagby that residents complain regularly about student behaviour, while universities generate huge economic benefits for the community. “They want all the benefits, but they don’t want the inconveniences of having students,” he said.
Some students would like to see residents talk more often to student neighbours before calling authorities on them.
“The permanent residents who were here before us should have to have some level of tolerance,” says Mike Oudyk, of Laurier.
“It’s not that students are not willing to talk,” says Laurier student Tim Elphick, who advises Halloran on student issues. “It’s just that you can’t start out of the gate by attacking the other player.”
Student leaders, police and politicians contend only a minority of students cause problems. Public education is part of the solution, they say.
“The university doesn’t do the best job, once you leave residence, educating (students about) what it’s like to live off-campus,” says Laurier student Jackie Dobson, who helps direct student government. “It’s one of those things that you don’t really know the rules until they’re broken.”
Dobson learned the hard way last year how things can get out of hand, when her off-campus house was slapped with a noise ticket she admits it deserved.
David McMurray, Laurier’s dean of students, cites several education campaigns aimed at persuading students to act responsibly. “I think the university’s doing its job,” McMurray said. “We don’t have any jurisdiction, legally, outside of our own boundaries.”
Waterloo Regional Police lead an off-campus crackdown called Safe Semester every September, to encourage proper conduct. Over three years it has resulted in more than 1,940 charges for criminal and bylaw offences.
“We need project Safe Semester practically all year if they’re going to maintain the peace here,” Carmody says.
Police don’t have the resources to do that, Insp. Dave Gerencser says.
Gerencser said a team of five officers pays special attention to student neighbourhoods, working with residents, student leaders, universities and city bylaw officers. They aim for a balance where students can have fun without bothering neighbours or putting themselves at risk.
“The last thing we want to do is quell a young student’s memories of university by not having them enjoy their university life,” Chief Matt Torigian said.
However, Torigian is not keen on a proposal to allow the City of Waterloo to purchase extra policing for student neighbourhoods. He worries, in part, that this would be unfair to other neighbourhoods that can’t afford to buy extra policing.
Police also want bylaw officers to handle more noise complaints. “If there’s a need, we do go,” Torigian said. “But we’re certainly not going all the time.”
Carmody figures police “do the absolutely best possible job they could do.”
But Carmody and Easson are outspoken critics of city hall. They accuse Waterloo council of failing to stabilize streets plagued by poor landlords and faltering property standards, of failing to crack down on bad behaviour and of failing to enforce planning rules intended to preserve family homes.
Halloran defends city bylaw officers, saying they handle complaints from Albert Street as best they can. “We have limited staff,” she said.
Friday, Feb. 5, 2010. Easson is drawn from her bed by yelling outside on Albert Street. Is there a fight, she wonders? She looks out the window to see young men running down the street.
More noise wakes her a few hours later. Saturday morning, she finds tracks in the snow showing that two people walked deep into a neighbour’s backyard from the street, likely to urinate.
Saturday night there’s more screaming and yelling. Easson is awakened three times, after midnight, shortly after 1:30 a.m. and again after 3 a.m. It adds up to five late-night disturbances over one weekend. She never calls police.
Many permanent residents have fled Albert Street. Carmody would too, if she could sell her house for the price she wants. Last year she had it on the market for four months and cleaned it three times a week.
But families are now scared by Albert Street, she says. The only interest in her five-bedroom home came from landlords who want to fill it with students. However, city hall refuses to license her house for more than three tenants, because council wants to preserve it for permanent residents. This diminishes its value to landlords.
“I would give anything not to live here,” she says. “Except for I can’t lose my life savings.”
A planning overhaul could point the way forward.
Easson and Carmody have joined with others to press Waterloo council to stop trying to preserve suburban-style homes in Northdale, the troubled neighbourhood north of the Laurier campus. They want council to help replace decaying houses with residential complexes that can be better managed and maintained.
“You could end the partying in Albert Street by eliminating big backyards, the big houses and the big front yards,” Carmody says.
Both universities have proposed working with city government and developers to replace some suburban houses with high-quality student housing. “The universities’ role would be to become involved in the management and supervision of those facilities,” Laurier’s McMurray said.
Halloran can see upsides, but wonders if aging water and sewer pipes can support the extra residents. A community-wide debate is expected to launch in June, based on a city planning report.
Easson says Albert Street should be a jewel, as it is located near two campuses, the downtown, and high-tech jobs. But that’s not what she sees, as students steadily take over the homes.
“This street is an embarrassment to the city,” she says.
jouthit@therecord.com
