Barry Street Blues : Camarillo: Residents of the six-block area, which is 90% Latino, say the city ignores their needs and that deputies are too intrusive. Officials disagree.

Rosanna Martinez’s coming-of-age party began with a traditional noon Mass, followed by a lunch of chiles and rice for 25 members of her family and close friends.

But the all-day quinceanera last month in the area of Camarillo known as Barry Street ended in an untraditional manner.

The party had merged with one across the street, and there were complaints to authorities of fights and minors drinking. The response was a major show of force by law enforcement.

Thirty Ventura County sheriff’s deputies, ready with dogs, a video camera and shielded helmets, walked shoulder-to-shoulder to clear the small Camarillo street.

As the deputies arrived, they were greeted with boos and some bottles were thrown at them. No arrests were made. Still, it was a sorry end to a day’s celebration.

“The police ruined it all,” complained Rosanna, a 15-year-old student at Camarillo High School.

The incident, according to Barry Street residents, dramatizes the tensions between the affluent city of Camarillo and the six-block area close to the Ventura Freeway where a concentration of the city’s Latinos live.

Many residents of Barry, Glen, Lomita and Lewis streets--the heart of the Barry Street area--say the rest of Camarillo sees their neighborhood as the city’s poor relation, best forgotten, frequently misunderstood and often feared.

“This has always been known as the ghetto of Camarillo,” said one longtime resident, who declined to give his name. “People have to live where they can afford to live.”

“Camarillo wants to ignore this area,” said Ralph Lovell, a volunteer for 20 years with Christians Acting Together, an organization that runs a thrift store on Lomita Street. “It’s a place they want to just drive through and look out their windows.”

Numbers reveal two worlds butting against each other--Camarillo and the Barry Street area. More than 90% of the area’s residents are Latino, compared to a 12% Latino population citywide.

Calls for law enforcement assistance increased in the area from 400 in 1990 to 620 in 1991, according to Vern Cook, manager of research and analysis for the Sheriff’s Department. “We’ll probably go higher than 600 this year,” Cook said.

Along with the increase in calls has come an escalation in the local gang problem in the past two years, said senior Sheriff’s Deputy Jeff Matson.

“They cause a lot of problems with intimidation in the schools and there’s been lots of unsubstantiated drive-bys,” Matson said. But the constant reminder that the gangs are present, he said, is graffiti.

Graffiti are a way for a gang to advertise for new recruits or start fights with rivals, police say. Twice a week, city sanitation workers Manuel Lopez and Ernie Palamero clean the graffiti off the walls of Choles Market and the nearby Jiffy Lube.

“To me, it means it’s their turf,” Lopez said as he rolled another layer of off-white paint over the words “Barrio Camarillo” and “Barry Street Gang,” two of the names given the local gang.

But neighbors disagree that the area is anyone’s turf. Some argue that the boys are more bored than dangerous. Law officers, they say, are too aggressive in their approach to young people in the area, roughing up teen-agers first and asking questions later. But others admit feeling afraid and wanting more officers patrolling the area.

“People think if you get together and talk, that’s a gang,” said Elva Gonzales, 20, a sophomore at Cal State Northridge. “They don’t go around with a pocketknife. They need something to do. There’s nothing for the youth here.”

“When you walk down to El Rancho School, police will ask what are you doing here,” said Ana Morales, 16, a junior at Camarillo High School. “They don’t make you feel welcomed.”

Other residents say the law enforcement presence in the area isn’t strong enough.

“Police want to put us on the front line,” said Henry Sanchez, 72, who has lived in the area all his life. “It was a good neighborhood 50 years back. Police don’t police this area like they should.”

“You can’t send your kid to the store here because you’re afraid something would happen,” said Gloria Ruiz, 61, a resident of the neighborhood since 1963. “I don’t have a husband or money to move.”

Area residents have filed six complaints against the Camarillo sheriff’s substation in the past few months, according to Lt. Richard Rodriguez, head of the department’s internal affairs. The complaints allege police harassment and excessive use of force, Rodriguez said. Investigators are in their final stage of investigating the complaints, he said.

One complaint was filed by Martha Figueroa, whose son, Stanley, 18, was arrested in February for vandalism. She says deputies were unnecessarily rough with her son, beating him when he wouldn’t stay still to have his picture taken. He’s not the only one, she says. “Almost every Hispanic person is in the same place. We’re afraid,” she said. “When my kids are outside, I’m afraid that the police are causing trouble with them.”

Sheriff’s deputies denied they have been rough with Stanley or with any other young Latinos. Matson says young people are stopped only when there is probable cause.

“We don’t single anyone out, but you find the same kids out there late at night,” Matson said.

Lonnie Miramontes, director of community services with El Concilio del Condado de Ventura, says there is a greater degree of polarization between the Latino community and sheriff’s deputies in Camarillo than in most other areas of the county.

“There’s bad feelings on all sides,” Miramontes said. “When you have a city that contracts to the Sheriff’s Department for services, there’s a different interaction with the community. You don’t always have the same ones who are there for a long period of time. It’s stressful.”

Other than in its relations with deputies, some neighborhood residents want the city to do more to help the area, a neighborhood that has been in transition since an influx of new immigrants from Mexico and Central America in recent years.

For the last two years, the city has been giving out low-interest loans for rehabilitating homes and providing financial aid for first-time homeowners in the area, along with other poorer neighborhoods of the city.

The city still has $66,000 available for rehabilitation for this year and applicants are encouraged to apply through the housing authority, said Tony Boden, the city’s director of planning and community development.

Responding to citizen complaints, the city also installed three speed bumps on Barry Street to slow down hot-rodders, said Vice Mayor Charlotte Craven.

Craven says Camarillo is committed to maintaining the neighborhood because it provides an area of low-cost housing in the generally affluent city.

“The area is a much-needed component in this city. For some people, it’s an entry into Camarillo,” Craven said. “In a matter of time, their income increases and they can move to a better area.”

But what the city hasn’t done, residents charge, is create enough for young people to do and better link the neighborhood with the rest of the city.

“There’s not enough programs for the kids,” said store owner Patricia Flores. “They need some role models out there. People won’t change if you treat them like nothing.”

Morales said she is hoping her family moves out of the area soon.

“Other students say, ‘Oh my God, you live on Barry Street,’ ” Morales said. “My friend’s grandmother doesn’t want her to have anything to do with us. I understand, things look bad, but everyone has to chip in. People blame it on the cops and the city, but we have to chip in too.”