Tenderloin nonprofits vs. bad apple corner stores

David Knego is executive director of Curry Senior Center on Turk Street in the grittiest part of the Tenderloin. The center serves breakfast and lunch to over 200 indigent seniors a day, and they are often fearful given the constant street activity — drug dealing, violence and theft.

Knego says there was a shooting at the nearby TL Tobacco and Market in January. In October, a man was shot and killed on the front step of his center. He hired a security guard and installed lights and cameras, but he and the people at the neighborhood’s other service agencies know where the real problems originate — the handful of lawless corner stores.

Lydia Bransten, who runs the security team for nearby St. Anthony Dining Room, was part of a group that took on the Big Boy Market at Golden Gate and Leavenworth, a place that had been the focus of neighborhood problems for years.

She recalls standing in the store when a man came off the street with a stolen iPhone, put it on the counter and demanded $25. The clerk, recognizing Bransten, claimed, “I don’t know what you are talking about.” But no one was fooled.

“Big Boy was a vehicle by which people were doing business — (stolen) phones, bicycles and violence — and we were part of the network,” she says. “When it gets to the point where the corner store is a danger to the community, it’s a safety issue.”

It sure is. “There was a strong-arm robbery on Leavenworth, and one of my employees happened to be standing there,” Knego said. “She called 911, and then hung around to tell the police what the guy looked like. The next day, two thugs came to our door looking for her.”

So, the neighborhood service agencies — 25 of them — formed the Golden Gate Block Safety Network. They began to document illegal activity and send e-mails to Tenderloin police Capt. Jason Cherniss. They got the city attorney’s office involved and sent what is called a “demand letter,” saying that there was public nuisance activity taking place, which is the first step toward legal action.

“Big Boy Market knew that eventually a lawsuit was coming,” said Cherniss. “There was finally enough community activity and documentation that it convinced the property owner not to renew the lease. He didn’t want to get sued.”

Now a walk down Golden Gate shows a city block transformed. Without Big Boy Market, there’s no place to fence stolen goods, get change for drug deals or hide from scrutiny.

“When Big Boy closed, there was a change overnight,” said Michael Anderer, a vice president of De Marillac Academy Catholic school.

Now the focus is on doing the same thing at TL Tobacco and Market. A demand letter has already been sent, and the service groups are documenting suspicious activity. It has already had an effect.

Owner got the message

Michael Heath, an attorney for the owner of the building, called to say that his client, Subhash Shastri, has gotten the message. He has told the operator of the market, Ali Mohsen Mused, to leave.

“We are aware of the problems, and we are currently in litigation to get him out,” Heath said. “I would love to tell you our feelings about this, but since there is pending litigation it will have to be sorted out in court.”

Mohsen Mused is reportedly planning on fighting the eviction, but given the momentum in the neighborhood, I don’t like his chances. The market is in the community crosshairs, and the pressure is bound to increase. If markets like that could be closed, it feels like the beginning of a whole new day in the Tenderloin.

There’s still plenty to do. On a sunny afternoon this week in the Tenderloin, Anderer stood on the sidewalk on Golden Gate Avenue and pointed north.

“This area, between McAllister and Turk, is probably the biggest open-air drug market in the city,” he said. “It’s pill hill. You can get whatever you want.”

That’s not news. Even the most clueless tourist could figure that out by walking by the corner of Turk and Leavenworth. The sketchy dealers stand in a ragged line along the sidewalk, conducting transactions with a steady stream of addicts who walk up to make a buy. Often neither party bothers to hide what is happening.

This has been going on for years. Drug busts are made, dealers are arrested, and a new crew pops up to take their place.

“How many drug dealers do I have to take out before they don’t come back?’’ asks Cherniss rhetorically. “There’s no number. We arrest, but the business goes on.”

But now, in what feels like a sea change in the TL, the service agencies in the area — places like the St. Anthony Foundation, De Marillac Academy and the Curry Senior Center — are making a concentrated effort to take back the streets.

Popcorn, poetry, music

Their initial weapons — popcorn, poetry and music. The first week of each a month, neighborhood businesses and service organizations stage “4 Corner Friday.” Lutheran Social Services sets up a ring toss game; Local 2, the union that represents hospitality workers, rolls out a popcorn machine, and De Marillac hands out books and packages of seeds.

“We occupy all four corners of an intersection,” Anderer said. “We do it at 3, which is normally a high traffic time for drug deals and at the first of the month when people get their (welfare) checks.”

It’s a nice statement and a fine photo op, but real change is trickier. The dealers aren’t going to be chased off by a popcorn machine. They continue to swagger up and down the street because they’ve intimidated the residents.

Still, for the first time neighborhood residents are seeing the beginning of real change.

“You and I will come back here in three years,” Knego said, “and we will say, 'Holy crap, what happened?’’’

It can’t happen too soon.

C.W. Nevius is a San Francisco Chronicle columnist. His columns appear Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. E-mail: cwnevius@sfchronicle.com Twitter: @cwnevius