The silence is unsettling. Just weeks ago, the Community Safety Teams – known simply as CSTs – were a visible presence outside the shelter at 545 Lake Shore Blvd. W. Now, they’re gone, leaving a void felt keenly by those who live nearby and a growing sense of unease as a major international event approaches.
Their departure wasn’t a quiet one. A $32-million lawsuit filed by a former CST member hangs over the situation, alongside reports that the Ministry of the Solicitor General has restricted its employees from taking on security roles. The abrupt end to their employment by One Community Solutions has left workers scrambling for paychecks and essential employment records.
But beyond the legal battles and payroll issues lies a stark reality: the need for security was, and remains, undeniable. Toronto Police data reveals a disturbing pattern since the shelter opened in 2019 – hundreds of calls for assistance, a significant number involving violent crime and a heartbreaking surge in overdose responses exceeding 600.
Maxyne Lockart, a resident living in the shadow of the shelter, remembers the CSTs fondly. They weren’t just security guards; they were a crucial link between the community, the police, and the shelter system. She speaks of their dedication to cleaning up discarded drug paraphernalia, a thankless task performed with quiet diligence. “They were wonderful,” she says, a note of loss in her voice. “We had a relationship with them, you know?”
Her concern now extends beyond the everyday challenges. With FIFA events scheduled to draw large crowds to nearby Billy Bishop airport, Lockart wonders how the area will cope. “How are we going to manage this area?” she asks, the question echoing the anxieties of many residents.
The city has confirmed the shelter lease won’t be renewed in September, acknowledging the building’s unsuitability – a former TV station plagued by ongoing hydro and plumbing issues. But the immediate future remains uncertain. Existing security patrols and outreach workers are intended to fill the gap, but residents fear it won’t be enough.
Police data paints a grim picture. Dozens of arrests, assaults on officers, and reports of weapons – knives and even guns – are documented within the spreadsheet obtained through a freedom-of-information request. While narcotics-related calls appear minimal, possibly reflecting a city policy, the presence of open drug dealing in nearby Little Norway Park is a known issue.
Lockart’s fears are shared by her neighbour, Helga Tucker, who monitors police data closely. Tucker reports over a dozen incidents in the first week and a half following the CSTs’ removal, prompting a desperate plea to her city councillor for a solution. The most effective security presence has vanished, leaving a vulnerable community bracing for potential trouble.
The potential return of encampments with warmer weather looms large. Lockart worries that the city’s response will be to strip away the park’s amenities – the playground, the wading pool – a pattern she’s witnessed before. But the true cost, she insists, will be borne by the children.
“They need the park,” Lockart emphasizes. “They don’t have summer camps and backyards, and they don’t have those things that wealthier children would have.” These children, many from modest families, deserve a safe place to play, a respite from the realities surrounding the shelter. Their well-being hangs in the balance, a silent consequence of a complex situation unfolding on the city’s waterfront.
The data reveals a troubling trend: 390 reported assaults, 38 fights, and 53 calls related to sexual assault. Police were dispatched 121 times for theft and 10 times for robbery. The numbers underscore the precariousness of the situation, a constant undercurrent of danger that residents have grown accustomed to.
While calls for service spiked during the pandemic years, the dramatic drop in “unwanted guest” incidents during the CSTs’ tenure suggests their presence had a tangible impact. This positive change, however, is now threatened, leaving the community to wonder what the future holds.
