HOW CAN We take back Seattle streets from crime, drugs and violence?

One approach is the iron fist.

The other is a helping hand.

The former is the way of the law -- the police who round up drug dealers, prostitutes and gangbangers whose nefarious doings ruin neighborhoods.

The helping hand tends not to get as much attention. But I saw it in action this week at an intersection that has been a magnet for trouble and headlines -- 23rd Avenue and East Union, where a restaurant owner was gunned down in January.

Every Tuesday afternoon, between 1 and 3 p.m., rain or shine, Mary Williams tosses out lifelines from a rickety picnic table she sets up in a parking lot near the intersection.

Are you a student in need of a job? Williams will reach into a clear plastic bin with hundreds of fliers and pluck one announcing a job with Seattle public libraries that pays $10.26 an hour.

Are you about to get evicted? Williams will hand out a beige sheet that mentions how to get eviction prevention funds.

Got physical woes, mental health issues or drug and alcohol addictions?

"Take this," said Williams, 38, handing a brochure to a woman in a dark jacket who had defeat on her face. "There's a drug meeting today. You should come. We can do an assessment."

The woman walked away -- with a smile.

In the fight to reduce crime, improve neighborhoods and save lives, Williams is a prong as vital as people with badges. She operates the GOTS Project, short for Get Off The Streets.

Since the summer of 2006, GOTS, run by the nonprofit Seattle Neighborhood Group at 1810 E. Yesler Way, has gone to street corners in crime-ridden parts of the Central Area, armed with referrals for social and health services, and more.

The goal? Improve the lives of those at the bottom, the throwaways the city ignores or fears, the people who may be too doped up or too much in the grip of mental illness, gangs or domestic violence to look for help.

"Need some water? Fruit?" Williams asked a man named Richard, who paused at the table. Richard, who looked about 70, wore a soiled beige topcoat and seemed agitated, perhaps even mentally unstable. But he was grateful for kindness, and shook everyone's hands like a dignitary. If he needs it, GOTS can link him with senior citizens programs.

"This is how we help combat crime," Williams said later. She exudes an unshakable optimism. "I hook people up. You have to offer people options. There are other ways than pushing it onto the police all the time. The police can't do it all, can't always be social workers."

The concept makes total sense. GOTS started in July 2006 as a pilot project near the 2000 block of East Madison Street, where nightclubs such as Deano's fueled sidewalk violence and vice. Frustrated Seattle beat cops would arrest people only to see them return within days or weeks. When problem nightspots on Madison shut down, trouble flowed to 23rd and Union. Once again, police arrested people but saw familiar faces cycle back.

GOTS works to break this cycle, one life at a time. Outreach workers offer hope and choices, including helping people with outstanding warrants, child custody issues and shelter.

In 2007, GOTS had 93 clients -- 16 were between the ages of 18 and 34; 74 were between 35 and 59; three were older than 60. Fifty-five of the clients were men; 37 were women; one was transgender.

The program's 2008 budget is about $240,000, the bulk of which goes for inpatient drug and alcohol help, mental-health treatment, and sober housing.

Christal F., who asked that her last name not be used, is one of the success stories. Before she was assisted by GOTS, she was hooking, addicted to drugs and "living out of bags."

Now, the 42-year-old who'd been using drugs since she was 13 has been sober for 14 months. She attends drug court, lives in sober housing in South Seattle, has a job working with homeless people and is reconciling with her youngest son. She attends parenting classes and drug-support meetings.

"I feel soooooo good," Christal told me after I bumped into her on the corner.

We stood in the sun at 23rd and Union this week. Across the street police crime tape still wrapped the Philadelphia Cheese Steak restaurant where the fatal shooting occurred three weeks ago.

Christal said she occasionally visits Williams at the corner -- not for help but to bear witness for others.

Her life change wouldn't have been possible, she said, had it not been for Tuesdays with Mary, for the helping hand that saved her when the iron fist could not.

FOR MORE INFO: GOTS Project c/o Seattle Neighborhood Group, 1810 E. Yesler Way, 206-323-9666.
P-I columnist Robert L. Jamieson Jr. can be reached at 206-448-8125 or robertjamieson@seattlepi.com.

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