Bob Forster is having trouble sleeping, thanks to an incessant banging noise emanating from the Cambridge Waterworks project blocks from his West Cambridge home.

Loud noise after 10 p.m. and before 7 a.m. is illegal in the city, but that doesn't seem to faze the workers.

Forster decided to tell someone about it.

So he became one of a handful of Cantabrigians who attended the March 18 neighborhood community meeting hosted by the Cambridge Police Department (CPD).

When Sgt. William Lyons asked the residents if they had any questions for him, Forster spoke up.

"I'm looking for a little help," he said. "My neighbors and I have put up with construction noise at four or five in the morning for months now."

Lyons and the CPD officials at the meeting promised they'd look into the matter.

And so began another chapter in the tale of Cambridge's community policing initiative, now five years old.

But the program's most pressing problems are not open-and-shut cases of noise pollution.

While the CPD has monetary backing from the federal government and a far-reaching mission statement, its community policing program is facing a conundrum.

The idea of cops walking the beat-- a central tenet of community policing--is not being implemented, and patrol officers themselves are the major obstacle.

The current contract, negotiated by the Cambridge Patrol Officers' Association, allows officers to "bid" for certain neighborhoods, choosing their assignments on the basis of seniority and experience. Since officers can switch neighborhoods several times a year, most do not establish relationships with the community members.

Foundations

When the city hired Ronnie L. Watson to be itschief of police in 1996, the idea of communitypolicing was in place. It was up to Watson to putit into practice.

In 1993, city officials were impressed with thesuccess of Lowell, an industrial city in northernMassachusetts marked by high crime rates.

One of the first cities in the state to trycommunity policing, Lowell saw violent crime dropby nearly 25 percent by 1995, a decline thatoccurred before other cities nationwide began toget statistically safer.

So Cambridge stepped up its effort to gain ashare of federal crime-fighting dollars. Itmounted an extensive lobbying campaign, targetinglawmakers who held sway in Congress.

It worked, and Cambridge was given severalmillion dollars to revolutionize its policing.

City Manager Robert W. Healy channeled themoney toward one purpose: to reshape police workby organizing the Cambridge Police Departmentaround simple principles. He wanted to put copsback on the street, to allow them leeway to solveproblems and to build trust between citizens andlaw enforcement officers.

Hiring Watson, a 33-year veteran of the ChicagoPolice Department, was the capstone of the effort.

"The department had a whole series of programsthat they were running under the banner ofcommunity policing," Watson recalls. "We focusedthem all together so that all of our resources aredirected in the same area."

Two-and-a-half years later, Watson says, "Weare doing quite a bit more programs than other lawenforcement agencies all across this country."

The centerpiece of Cambridge's communitypolicing is direct contact between officers andthe citizens.

When it restructured community policing, CPDassigned one lieutenant and one sergeant to eachof the city's 13 zones.

The purpose, according to Lyons, is to givecitizens a "face and a name" to go with their lawenforcement officers.

No Names or Faces

But lieutenants do not regularly walk the beat,and sergeants are usually found in their radiocars. The presence of a patrol officer, who wouldostensibly have the most direct contact withresidents, is conspicuously absent.

On November 19, 1997, state lawmakers approveda bill that would prove to be a thorn in Watson'sside. It required police commissioners to seekunion approval before undertaking large-scalerestructuring.

At issue was what is called "geographicassigning," where departments assign specificofficers to regularly patrol specificneighborhoods for extended periods of time, in thestyle of cops walking their beats.

Though police unions were vocal supporters ofthe bill, city officials statewide said inpublished reports that they feared for publicsafety, and geographic scheduling quickly becamean issue of the past.

CPD administrators clamed the bill would hampertheir efforts to combat crime in specific areas,by not giving supervisors the flexibility toadjust to changing crime conditions.

Lt. Steven Williams, the CPD's communitypolicing coordinator, says he doesn't predict areconciliation between the CPD and its patrolofficers union anytime soon over this issue.

"I don't foresee that changing," he says. "WhatI do see is officers themselves, if they recognizethe importance and benefits of buying intooutreach, they will [ask to be placed in] certaingeographical areas of their own."

Some officers seem to agree.

A 31-year veteran CPD officer says he thinksthat neighborhood assignments would aid his job.

Although officers get to "bid" on neighborhoodsthey want, they can switch at any time.

The officer, who spoke on the condition ofanonymity, said that he has selected a certainneighborhood because he wants to get to know theresidents.

"Do I think [geographical assigning] wouldbenefit community policing? Yes I do. I think mostofficers feel that way," he says.

Steven Hall, who is president of the CambridgePatrol Officers Union, could not be reached forcomment.

CPD commissioner Watson says tension with theunion is responsible for media reports of lowmorale with in the department.

"Most of our problems come from laboragreements," he says. "They were drawn before thedepartment got into community policing."

"That has an impact," he says.

Close Contact

Still, Watson says he's doing his best to bringthe CPD closer to Cantabrigians.

To that end, four times a year, the CPD hostsmeetings in each zone.

But many residents are ignoring issues of crimeat these meetings, focusing instead on "quality oflife issues," according to Williams.

Indeed, at several of the quarterly meetingsheld in the past two weeks, crime itself barelymerited a mention.

Even in the Peabody neighborhood, where housebreak-ins rose nearly 77 percent last year, thesubject of the community meeting two weeks ago waswhat residents termed a more pressing concern thancrime: zoning.

When Lt. Robert Ames, who is in charge ofpatrol for the Riverside neighborhood, attended ameeting for residents in the first week of March,he said he had expected to hear complaints about arash of car break-ins.

But instead, the Cantabrigians wanted to talkabout "dog problems in the parks [and] lighting onthe streets," he says.

"The response we're getting from the communityhasn't been great because of the [low] crimerate," he says.

Although total crime rise slightly since 1997,the city is still the safest it has been in thirtyyears, according to recently released crimestatistics.

But several high-density areas of Cambridgehave seen increases in violent crime, includingstreet muggings.

Area Four, a crowded cluster of businesses andhomes to the northeast of Central Square, has beenhit hard by drug crime in the past year, Amessays.

Although the number of arrests for drugoffenses declined 24 percent, "it just seems thatevery time we lock somebody up, another personsteps in and takes their place," Ames says.

"Those people in Area Four might not feel like[community policing] is working for them," hesays. "It's an ongoing process."

On March 18, only six residents attended theWest Cambridge meeting.

The neighborhood, which includes parts of theSquare, an upscale residential area, Mt. Auburnhospital, a large cemetery and parts of FreshPond, saw a spree of residential burglaries whichcaused house break-ins to rise 75 percent lastyear.

Thefts from cars were up sharply as well.

Four officers in three radio cars patrol thearea 24 hours a day.

Still, the enclave of nearly 9,000Cantabrigians remains one of the city's safestareas, according to an analysis of CPD crimestatistics.

Residents attending the meeting, like RobertMergedechian, asked officers about trafficproblems, one-way streets and school zones.

Only one brought up a crime issue.

Attendance has been sparse at nearly everymeeting, and sergeants often find themselvesaddressing empty school auditoriums.

Despite the CPD's high-profileinitiatives-including an extensive Website,door-to-door campaigns, flyers and mass mailings,many city residents say they are unaware of thecommunity policing program.

Linda B. Levine, a community activist, says theCPD's initiatives are unknown to her.

"As a member of my neighborhood, I haven'theard anything," she said.

The Future

Although the CPD is not planning more outreachprograms, Williams says it will expand itssuccessful bike patrols as another way ofincreasing contact with the community.

"We've just selected three additionalofficers," Williams says.

Beginning April 4, bike officers will be onpatrol on Cambridge's most crowded streets sevendays a week and 16 hours a day.

And each of the city's thirteen neighborhoodswill have its own bike officer assigned, Williamssays.

But given the union's reluctance to endorsegeographical assigning, officers will be rotatedon a yet-to-be-deter-mined basis, Williams says.

"It's one of the tenets of community policingthat we've haven't been able to implement," saysVicky Boulrice, the civilian coordinator forcommunity policing.

But citizens seem to be responding, even ifthey don't yet have a face and a name to go withthe cops that walk their beat.

Attendees of the West Cambridge meeting thankedSgt. Lyons for coming.

"I want to thank you for having this meeting,"Bob Forster said.

"It's allowing us to talk directly to thepeople who are concerned for our safety," he said.

-Vasant M. Kamath contributed to thereporting of this story.CrimsonSarah E. HenricksonON DUTYSome Cambridge police officers saythe "community policing" program doesn't live up to its goals.