That’s Paula. On her trike.
If you live in the Meadowside community, you’ve heard the sound. It’s not a siren, not a dog bark, and not the ice cream truck’s jingle. It’s a low, steady whir followed by the soft squeak of suspension. trike patrol - paula
That’s the Trike Patrol. Not a wall. Not a weapon. Just a woman, a three-wheeler, and a stubborn commitment to looking out for everyone else. That’s Paula
Last month, a new family moved in. They saw Paula circling and asked nervously, “Is the neighborhood dangerous?” It’s not a siren, not a dog bark,
She knows which house has a new baby (she rides quietly past). She knows who’s recovering from surgery (she leaves a muffin in their mailbox). She knows which corner has the worst drainage (she reports it before the city does).
“People think crime is dramatic,” she told me, slowing to pick up a shattered beer bottle with her grabber tool. “It’s not. It’s almost always unlocked doors, dark corners, and people not paying attention.”