Deputy Inspector Andrew Capul wasn’t having an easy night. At the May general meeting of the 34th Precinct Community Council, Inwood residents were demanding action in response to the uptick in muggings in their neighborhood. One resident asked Capul, the head of the precinct, whether he and his neighbors should carry weapons to protect themselves.

At the Aug. 4 National Night Out in Washington Heights, Deputy Inspector Andrew Capul of the 34th Precinct accepts a proclamation from Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg in recognition of the 83 percent drop in the precinct’s murder rate since 2001. Photo: Jennifer A. DePreist.

Robberies were on the rise in Inwood and Washington Heights, conceded Capul, though crime was down overall. There had been about 11 more robberies year to date than there had been during that same period in 2008, Capul said.

Inwood residents have long argued that the 34th Precinct is too large, and that a northern precinct would establish a palpable police presence. There isn’t money for a new precinct, so some Inwood residents want to police their neighborhood themselves.

A neighborhood patrol isn’t a new idea. Residents banded together as the Inwood Patrol and patrolled in groups of two or three from 7 p.m. to 1 a.m. Thursdays through Sundays on and off for almost 20 years.

Patrols were on foot and then in later years in two vehicles equipped with flashing lights, with “Inwood Patrol” lettered on the sides. At its height about five years ago, the patrol had about 100 active participants.

But the Inwood Patrol, which began as a self-described vigilante group and was later endorsed by the precinct, was disbanded last year following internal turf wars, personality conflicts and dwindling participation.

The city’s uniformed volunteer auxiliary program isn’t the kind of grassroots group Inwood residents seek. Auxiliary participants don’t choose assignments, and they must complete a 16-week training, pass written and physical exams, submit to a background investigation and drug and alcohol screening and adhere to minimum hours requirements.

Many Inwood residents, most of whom weren’t part of the old Inwood Patrol, have pressed the precinct this summer to restart the group, and neighborhood blog posts query why it isn’t active.

“The issue was never the program,” said 34th Precinct Community Affairs Officer Tony Trinidad. “It was with the people.”

At the June community council meeting Capul said, “If utilized properly, the Inwood Patrol could be an outstanding resource.”

But what can a neighborhood patrol of unarmed citizens do? And in an increasingly fragmented community, where the dense traffic on Broadway separates residents not just physically, but also along the lines of ethnicity, class, and language, how can neighbors protect each other when they don’t even know each other?

The 1989 killing of Israel Ortiz in his grocery store on West 218th Street shocked some residents into action.

Michael Hughes, 53, was a member of the Inwood Patrol in those early days and was its leader when it was disbanded. “You’re sick and tired of being a victim, and you’ve got to take a stand,” he said recently.

The crack epidemic had erupted in New York in the mid-1980s, and the 34th Precinct, with its bridges, highways, and regional bus station, became a hub for crack distribution and the murder capital of the city.

But crime has decreased significantly since then. There were 103 murders in the area covered by the precinct in 1990 and seven murders in 2001, according to New York Police Department CompStat figures. Last year, there were three murders.

There were 1,919 robberies within the precinct’s borders in 1990 and 316 robberies in 2001. Last year, there were 270 robberies. Even though the precinct covers a smaller area than it did in 1990, crime has decreased significantly.

Longtime residents agree that Inwood is significantly safer now. But many new arrivals don’t know Inwood’s bloody history. “Those people who say crime is on the rise don’t know what they’re talking about,” said Charles Allen, 58.

“I suspect many of them are from downtown. I’ve been here since the 70s,” said Allen, a wine wholesaler who lives on Academy Street.

Yet many Inwood residents say they feel vulnerable.

Karen Jolicoeur, 40, a classical singer, laments “the basic degradation of quality of life.” She said, “The chaos invites crime.” Jolicoeur’s husband was assaulted with a stun gun in Inwood Hill Park in May.

“This thing that happened to my husband was brazen,” she said. “It was 3 p.m. the Sunday afternoon of Memorial Day weekend.”

Courtney Turay, 38, just moved her family back to Lexington, Ky., after 10 years on Arden Street. “Crime definitely played into our decision,” she said by telephone. “It’s a general perception that the lawlessness was increasing in our neighborhood and less was being done.”

Turay said she didn’t feel safe walking on her own street.

Edward Briggs, 66, a retired mannequin designer who lives on Payson Avenue said recently, “I’m reluctant to walk through the park at any hour.”

Many residents welcome the idea of a neighborhood patrol.

“That would be great,” enthused Angela Pen, 29. Pen moved to Inwood from Pennsylvania six months ago and worries about walking her dog after dark.

“Sounds great to me,” said Patricia Taylor, 46, a television producer and 15-year Inwood resident. Taylor said she has noticed an increase in drug activity.

Some elected officials also support a new Inwood Patrol.

“I think a civilian patrol is a good thing,” said Democratic State Assemblyman Adriano Espaillat, who represents eastern Inwood. “We’re working with the precinct now to see how we can get something back up and running that’s good for the community.”

Espaillat, Democratic State Assemblyman Herman D. Farrell Jr. and Democratic City Councilman Robert Jackson all secured taxpayer funds for the old Inwood Patrol.

But Espaillat said a new patrol should operate differently than the old one, whose members mostly patrolled the predominately white area west of Broadway. “I think that there should be not only diversity, but that the Inwood Patrol should be from east to west,” said Espaillat. “It should cross Broadway, building bridges.”

Maureen Rocks, 59, a 20-year Inwood resident, was a longtime member of the Inwood Patrol. “The Spanish didn’t seem to participate much at all,” said Rocks. Referring to the west side, she added, “It was basically this side of Broadway. I still don’t understand why. We tried to reach out to everybody.”

Hughes acknowledges that patrol members weren’t able to coordinate with the mostly Dominican residents east of Broadway. “Of course you’re going to find people who say that racism was involved,” he said.

Manny Velazquez, Community Board 12 chair, emphasized the need for inclusion. “If the Inwood Patrol was to get reactivated, or if another organization was to come out, it’s very important that it’s inclusive to the entire neighborhood and that all parts of Northern Manhattan really are included in that process.”

Hughes doesn’t doubt the patrol’s effectiveness despite its lack of diversity and geographic scope. “We were bringing crime down, working with the cops, talking to people in the streets who would talk to me but wouldn’t talk to the police,” Hughes said. “We were the foot soldiers on the front, dealing with things.”

Some Inwood residents aren’t as enthusiastic about civilian patrols. Briggs, the retired mannequin designer, said, “I think some of these people that hang around here are carrying. Who wants to put themselves in a position to be filled with bullets?”

Jolicoeur agrees. “Do we need private citizens putting themselves in harm’s way to do the police’s job? I don’t think so.”

Briggs expressed concern about potential volunteers. “What’s their agenda? What’s their motivation? You worry a little about people like that,” he said. “Some of these men have some rage issues, possibly racial issues,” said Briggs.

Rocks confirmed Brigg’s concerns: “As far as I know, a couple of them did have altercations with people. But we weren’t supposed to do that.”

James Johnson didn’t think highly of the old Inwood Patrol. “Those people would treat you like a criminal because you’re outside,” said Johnson, 28, who grew up in Inwood.

Johnson expressed an additional concern: that self-isolation, particularly by newer residents west of Broadway, breeds suspicion. “If they would actually come outside, they would know their neighbors,” he said while relaxing in the park with a multiracial group of friends after work.

“When I was coming up, everyone knew everyone. Everyone played together.” Johnson said he didn’t think his current neighbors are interested in really knowing each other. “They want to be isolated.”

Sean Ledden, 48, a television producer and 19-year Inwood resident, said some of his neighbors seem fearful even of each other.

“I’d like to see less hysteria,” he said. “Get active. It’s important. But stay calm.” Ledden added, “How can you build community when you’re like a pit bull protecting your little nest egg?”

Velazquez, who is running for City Council, called for a greater sense of common purpose. “Safety is for everybody. A life is a life, a child is a child, a grandparent is a grandparent,” he said. “A human being is a human being, no matter where they live, and we have to make sure that if we do activate those groups again, that we’re reaching out to everybody and protecting everybody in the neighborhood.”

Payson Avenue in Inwood divides urban infrastructure from the last vestige of wild forest in Manhattan. Residential buildings line one side of the avenue, and the soaring, densely forested hillside of Inwood Hill Park’s 136-acre Shorakapok Preserve lines the other.

Payson Avenue in Inwood runs southwest, dividing residential buildings from Inwood Hill Park's dense forest. Photo: Jennifer A. DePreist

A few yards up a winding path into the forest on a recent morning, a cardinal hopped from one branch to another, and a cacophony of birdcalls competed with the clattering and grinding of a garbage truck on the avenue.

Residents report seeing eagles, foxes, skunks, raccoons, and even deer in the park, which contains Manhattan’s last natural forest and salt marsh.

Word that a rabid raccoon was found on Payson Avenue filtered through the community this past week on neighborhood message boards and in a July 28 e-mail from Jennifer Hoppa, the parks department’s northern parks administrator. The notice reminded Inwood residents, many of whom relish living hard up against the wilderness, that living on the urban frontier has its hazards.

“This is basically my back yard,” said Troy Meyerhoeffer, 40, a graphic designer who lives at the northeastern edge of the park.

Meyerhoeffer cherishes being close to raw nature. Noting that he can fish, hike, and bike just steps from his apartment, Meyerhoeffer said, “This is probably the only part of Manhattan I could live in.”

Rabies is a viral infection of the central nervous system. The rabies virus is transmitted by the bite or scratch of a rabid animal.

Rabid animals are found every year in other parts of the city. A report from the city’s Bureau of Communicable Diseases indicates that between Jan. 1 and July 22, six animals in other boroughs tested positive for rabies.

Rabid animals are rarely found in Manhattan.

The Payson Avenue raccoon was the first animal in Manhattan to test positive for rabies since 2006. By contrast, 68 animals in Staten Island and 33 animals in the Bronx have tested positive for rabies since 2006.

Raccoons are the most common rabid animals in the city, followed by skunks and bats. All six of the animals that tested positive for rabies in the city this year were raccoons.

There hasn’t been a human case of rabies reported in New York City in 50 years, despite the presence of rabid animals. A fact sheet from the bureau credits pet vaccination programs and the availability of the human rabies vaccine for the absence of human rabies cases.

Left untreated, rabies is nearly always fatal. Treatment consists of a series of six shots over 30 days: one shot of rabies immune globulin near the bite or scratch, and five vaccines in the arm.

Sara Condé, 32, who was in the park on a recent morning on a field trip with her landscape-painting class, hadn’t heard about the rabid raccoon. “It doesn’t change my feelings about coming to the park,” Condé said, as she began laying her paints and brushes out beside her on the bench.

Some were more wary.

“I’m very concerned,” said Katherine Schlaikjer, a cellist, while walking on Payson Avenue this week. “I walk in there all the time.”

Upon reflection, though, Schlaikjer said she didn’t think she’d change her behavior. Noting the 2004 slaying of a 21-year-old drama student from the Juilliard School in the park, Schlaikjer said, “I never stopped going into the park. I just don’t tell my mother,” said the 37-year-old.

Gerard Dengel, 45, of Seaman Avenue, also isn’t going to stop using the park. “This park is the center,” he said, while sitting on a bench in the park. “I feel like it’s God’s country.”