Summary: I live on the bank of the Deschutes River. In this stretch of about a block, the river divides two distinct sides of our city, the east and the west. The riverbank is a public space open for everyone. But people do not always agree on how to best spend a hot summer day. Davis Park is on the East side of the river. It has the perfect combination of shade and privacy for people to hang out, let loose. Teenagers used to come here to make-out, or drink some beers. Now, on hot days, it’s where many go to cool off, including the ‘down-and-out.’ On the West side of the river, where I live, things like birding, jogging, and swimming are the norm. It is a different kind of park over here. I am riding along with Officer Marc Tisher as he patrols his beat of more than 50 city parks. We stop at an intersection and I see two tanned guys chilling at a bus stop. Tisher rolls his window down and gets their attention. I recognize the men. For the past two summers, these two have often made Davis Park their daytime home. In a way, they have come to represent the character of the park. “You guys been keeping Davis Park clean for me?” Officer Tisher asks them. “Yeah,” Matt, one of the men answers in an upbeat, friendly voice, “We’re going to the rapids. So meet us down there.” Tisher laughs and says, “Alright. Are you guys going to body surf it today?” Matt replies, “It’s eighty, I might get wet.” It’s a light hearted moment of laughter on a hot summer day. For years though, Davis Park’s shenanigans went un-policed, so Davis Park has become the place, which all cities and towns have, where local customs are at odds with city laws. But about a year ago, the parks department proposed building a bridge between the two sides. That got people’s attention on my block. Paul Stell is the Natural Resources Manager for the Bend Parks and Recreation District. He says they’ve tried most everything to enforce local laws and regulations in city parks. The Parks Department even got rid of the park rangers, “Because they did not have full authority,” Stell says, “because they couldn’t make citations or arrest or you know, carry a fire-arm and take care of business.” Now there’s a parks cop. That’s who you met earlier, Officer Tisher. The increased law enforcement, Stell says, is necessary because city parks still serve a critical function. “On a hot summer day it’s a great place for anybody. They can be there from when the park opens ‘til the park close. And if they don’t have any other place to be that’s a good place to be but there are rules and we need to follow the rules. That’s the only issue.” Here in Bend the rules are basic; no criminal activity, no endangering the peace and safety of others, no drinking alcohol or possessing an open container without a proper permit. If people can agree to this, Stell says, those living close to city parks have an obligation to “let it be” for the entire public. “Living next to a park is a commitment,” Stell says, laughing. Stell does not finish his thought. But I know what he means. Residents have no control over public land bordering their property. And there is a steady flow of different people and habits. On my block, some homeowners, want to project their idea of how the other side of the river should be. People on the West side engage the police like my neighbor, who I’ll call Sam. She didn’t want her real name used. “You know, we tried to figure out how to solve this problem.” I ask, “What problem?” “The problem,” Sam says, “of unhealthy and unsafe behavior dominating a small community park.” Sam says a group of men show up around ten each morning in Davis Park. They claim a picnic table and spend all day there, drinking and smoking. “And that would happen every sunny day,” Sam says. “Two people would come and secure that picnic table. The hotter it was, the earlier they’d come. So that they’d make sure they had it for the whole day.”
