I thought the girl was dead. I thought that on the most ordinary of nights, she’d made the last, worst choice of her life.

It was Thursday, and First Creek Neighbors had invited me to join a walkabout on Portland Avenue near 32nd Street East.

They looked like people you’d see in a grocery checkout line, except for the anti-drug, anti-prostitution, anti-gang signs they carried.

Every night at 7 the neighbors meet at Portland Avenue Community Center, then stroll toward spots where they’ve noticed shady activity. Somewhere in the background, there’s always a Tacoma Police Department or Puyallup Tribal Police squad car ready to respond if they run into trouble.

Jeanie Peterson, Hilltop Action Coalition’s queen of the walkabout, taught them how to take back their street: Be nice. Be firm. Wear white hats. Bring a high-beam flashlight. Let the women do the talking.

And it’s not a bad idea to stand uncomfortably close to the public phones used to arrange drug deals.

In a week, they’ve gotten wise to the street’s nuances.

They know who ducks down what alley, who’s selling drug paraphernalia, where pimps deliver their prostitutes to johns. They make notes for their partners, the police.

They’re getting acquainted with the criminals, including The Pimp.

“One of our favorites has told us he’s an undercover cop,” said mobilizer Guy Thompson.

But the one they call Limpy is irresistible.

His home appears to have more drug’n’hooker activity than the usual illegally occupied garage. When he sets out on a walk, many neighbors stop for brief exchanges with him.

At 7:50 p.m., while the group was gathered at 32nd and Portland, Limpy hove into view.

“Limpy at 2 o’clock,” Thompson said, nodding at the dark figure.

“Want to go for a walk?” Thompson asked Wolf and Luetta Patton.

I tagged along as they, with their signs, followed Limpy at a respectful distance. When Limpy ducked into a gas station, they waited outside while he talked to the security guard and glared at them. When he left, they lined up along the sidewalk so he’d have to pass at close quarters.

They smiled and said “hi.” He did not.

Walking back to the others, Luetta Patton made a note that someone had spray-painted “Pimp G” on a fence.

Back at the corner, passing drivers honked and cheered in support. Oscar Bailey, who lives nearby, asked if he could bring hot chocolate or coffee. Ronnie Daniels stopped to say, “I’m so happy you are out here.” Thompson invited him to join them any time.

So many people come Fridays and Saturdays that it’s becoming festive.

At 9 p.m., the group was about to leave when what sounded like a party approached from the direction of the Emerald Queen Casino.

It was a flock of half a dozen teens, mostly giddy girls. Then we heard the insults and gestures they were tossing at three people across the street. A young man in that group was wearing red colors.

The smaller group darted into Min Market. We did not know there had been a fight earlier, and the clerks had locked the door. We thought the girls were just goofing around.

The group outside got rowdier. In a blink, one of the girls jumped into the street, into the path of a white car.

The car skidded.

Edwina Magrum heard the impact of the girl running into it.

I thought I was watching a human meeting death.

I screamed. I think Luetta Patton did, too. Screams sound like the screech brakes make when a child’s life depends on an inch of safe space.

This time the inches were on the girl’s side. She straightened up and ran away. The white car sped after her. Thompson called tribal police. Magrum dialed 911. A minute later, tribal police arrived, took a report on the earlier fight and arrested the man wearing red.

Fights. Gangs. Drugs. Jail. Flirting with irrevocable consequences. First Creek Neighbors are fed up. They’ll be walking the avenue again tonight.

They’ve seen a young life that depends on that change.

Kathleen Merryman: 253-597-8677

kathleen.merryman@thenewstribune.com