TRACKING: More taggers are arrested and vandalism is down thanks to apprehension program.

By Eddie North-Hager
DAILY BREEZE

The scribbles are everywhere these days. The larger, more colorful ones adorn underpasses and retention walls. Smaller versions pop up on stop signs, telephone poles, even trees.

The ramblings usually look like they take seconds but for those in the know they mark territory or warn rivals. When painted over, they often reappear the next day.

Proliferating for years and seemingly impossible to stop, graffiti looks meaningless.

But Tim Kephart has learned to read the hieroglyphics and used the knowledge to stop some offenders.

Working for Carson while still a graduate student two years ago, he found that nearly every piece of graffiti is signed, like an artist proud of his masterpiece. Often the sloppy signatures are themselves the work of “art.” Kephart put the information into a database, mapped it and photographed it.

One year ago, sheriff’s deputies in Carson questioned a group of teens hanging out. One had writing on his backpack and told officers his tagging name.

Kephart, who wears a bulletproof vest while on an assignment with the deputies, plugged the name into his laptop computer. Fourteen times the name popped up with a picture that matched the markings on the backpack. Deputies arrested the youngster for 14 acts of vandalism.

A year later, about 35 arrests have been made for 350 counts of vandalism. The amount of square footage sprayed is down 42 percent in that time.From September 2001 to September 2002, according to police reports, 15 youths were arrested for 15 counts of vandalism, Kephart said.

“It’s kind of a marriage . . . theory and practical came together,” said Mike Preston, Carson’s public safety director. Kephart, who has a master’s degree in criminal justice from California State University, Long Beach, now runs Carson’s Graffiti Apprehension Program. The city hired him for $90,000 a year for five years — a bargain considering Carson spends $450,000 a year to remove graffiti.

“To my knowledge this is a new way of going at it,” Preston said. “We were constantly following guys around . . . and it wasn’t affecting it.”

Preston said it’s rare to get a 594 call — graffiti in progress — and catch a tagger. During his 30 years as a deputy, he has caught only a few.

But the new tracking system doesn’t require catching anyone red-handed.

“This kind of evolved,” Preston said. “We never had a program in place to track down offenders and bring them to justice.”

Kephart used to hide out in unmarked cars at popular tagging spots waiting for someone to fall into a trap. But it’s easier to talk to kids for minor offenses such as loitering, riding a bike without a helmet or carrying markers or spray cans.

Kephart or deputies will ask who they are running with — meaning what gang they belong to — and what they are called.

Getting kids to reveal their gang name or tagging signature isn’t that difficult.

“They are pretty straightforward,” said Sgt. Holly Francisco, who worked with Kephart as a member of the Community Oriented Policing team. “They have a sense of pride.”

Kephart explains: “In tagging graffiti, if you don’t include the name, there’s no point. This is about promoting themselves.”

If they are uncooperative, the suspect’s book bag, belt or notebook will often betray him or her with a moniker.

After Kephart gets the name and matches it with mapped locations and photos, the youth often confesses.

The days of scrawling “Gene loves Jezebel” are gone. A gangster uses graffiti to name members, to mark territory, threaten enemies, remember the dead or publicize the group. A tagger just wants his name on a wall.

“To the common person, graffiti can’t be read but it is saying something,” Kephart said.

The system often turns what was a slap on the wrist for one painted wall and restitution of a few hundred dollars into a felony requiring thousands of dollars to be paid and probation.

Kephart hopes this will one day help with other police investigations, such as murder cases, to show who made a threat or who was threatened.

Kephart shakes his head at those who romanticize taggers as artists and their abilities to colorize bland concrete. “They were damaging thousands of dollars worth of property to get that good,” Kephart said. “Taggers are not nice people.”

Preston called tagging a “gateway” crime that can lead to drugs, gangs and violence. A conviction often leads to probation and restitution, he said.

“A lot of these kids come from tough backgrounds, not to make an excuse for what they do,” Kephart said. “They may be in sad situations but the city is spending thousands because of what they do.”