Worst zip code in milwaukee

Worst zip code in milwaukee DEFAULT

Milwaukee’s 53206 may be the most famous -- or perhaps infamous -- ZIP code in Wisconsin. 

When Milwaukee’s ills -- crime, poverty, poor housing -- are measured in studies, the ZIP code frequently comes out on top. For politicians and policymakers, the area has become a five-digit shorthand for dysfunction and decay. It has even been the subject of a documentary. 

The ZIP code is bounded, roughly, by Interstate 43 to the east, 27th Street to the west, North Avenue to the south and Capitol Drive to the north. 

To be sure, the area faces deep, long-standing challenges. But sometimes its standing by the numbers gets exaggerated.

Here is one example:

"Coming from the most incarcerated ZIP code in our state, I know how much opportunity means for our communities of color," Lt. Gov. Mandela Barnes tweeted on May 4, 2019. "Our administration wants to end these disparities and create a Wisconsin where everyone has a chance to thrive." 

On one level, the most-incarcerated claim is a simple statistical one.

But there are many levels to the claim, which over the years has been repeated by so many politicians and amplified so many times by news accounts that it has been accepted as a truth: Not only do people say it’s the most incarcerated ZIP code in the state, it’s the worst in the nation. 

Or even the world.

Analyzing the claim is complicated by many factors, from difficulty in obtaining solid data to the different ways that data can be sliced: Census tract vs. ZIP code vs. city vs. metro area. There’s this problem as well: Does "most incarcerated" mean those in prison now, or anyone who has served time in the past? 

Thus, we are setting aside the Truth-O-Meter today to examine how this particular claim got exaggerated and what we know about incarceration in 53206 and in Milwaukee.

Behind the claim

The genesis of the claim appears to be a study -- "Wisconsin’s Mass Incarceration of African American Males: Workforce Challenges for 2013" -- prepared by John Pawasarat and Lois M. Quinn for the Employment and Training Institute at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee.

The report noted that Wisconsin was the worst state in the nation for African American incarceration, at 12.8%, based on 2010 census data. That was nearly double the national average of 6.7%.

The report went on to refer to 53206 as "ground zero for black male incarceration." 

It noted two-thirds of Milwaukee County’s incarcerated African American men came from six ZIP codes in the poorest neighborhoods of Milwaukee and included a graphic showing the "concentration of released and incarcerated ex-offenders in Milwaukee ZIP code 53206."

The study looked not just at those in jail or prison at a given time, but also those who had been previously incarcerated. 

The report did not claim 53206 as the most-incarcerated in the state but that was a leap that many easily made. And because the state was the worst in the nation, a second leap -- that 53206 is worst in the nation -- wasn’t far away.

Department of Corrections data

So where does 53206 stand?

Any close-to-definitive answer on this matter has to involve data from the Wisconsin Department of Corrections. But officials there told us they do not typically track whatever ZIP code is associated with an inmate’s most recent address.

That said, they agreed to run their data in that manner and shared the information with PolitiFact Wisconsin. 

The DOC based its analysis on inmates in the prison system as of June 30, 2019, and each inmate’s address prior to entering the prison system, said spokeswoman Clare Hendricks. 

That’s worth underlining: It does not take into account people who have served time, but are no longer behind bars. Nor does it account for any people currently incarcerated in county jails or federal prisons.

As of late August, there was a total Wisconsin inmate population of about 23,000. Roughly 5,000 inmates were omitted from DOC’s address analysis because the department was not able to find a pre-incarceration home address aside from a jail or other facility. 

That left 18,105 inmates scattered across more than 700 Wisconsin ZIP codes.

Here’s how the top five ZIP codes broke down based on raw numbers:

  • 53206 (Milwaukee near north side): 598 inmates

  • 53209 (Milwaukee north side/Thurston Woods): 572

  • 53208 (Milwaukee west side/Miller Valley): 467 

  • 53204 (Milwaukee near south side/Walker’s Point): 452 

  • 53210 (Milwaukee west side/Sherman Park): 451

So, by that measure, 53206 is the leader. 

But the number of people living in each ZIP code can vary widely. 

What about when you rank the state ZIP codes by the incarcerated number as a percentage of the adult population? Here is how that looks:

  • 54861 (Northwest Wisconsin/Ashland County): 92 adults, 8 incarcerations, population proportion 8.70%

  • 53702 (Madison/Dane County): 26 adults, 2 incarcerations, population proportion 7.69% 

  • 53203 (Milwaukee/Kilbourn Town): 1,320 adults, 53 incarcerations, population proportion 4.02%

  • 53206 (Milwaukee near north side): 16,324 adults, 598 incarcerations, population proportion 3.66%

  • 54442 (Lincoln County/North central Wisconsin): 801 adults, 26 incarcerations, population proportion 3.25%

So, by that measure, the 53206 ZIP code ranks fourth. It’s not even the top ZIP code in Milwaukee.

Worst in the nation? 

A 2018 Brookings Institution report found that neighborhoods with high incarceration rates are "predominately black, or are otherwise non-white, have child poverty rates that are two to three times the national average, and have male unemployment rates substantially higher than the rest of the country."

That may sound like 53206, but the report’s list of the nation’s top 40 ZIP codes did not include any from Wisconsin, let alone 53206. That analysis, based on the rate (not raw numbers), put 37208 (Nashville, Tenn.) in the top spot, followed by 23704 (Portsmouth, Va.) and 76707 (Waco, Texas).

Nevertheless the claim that 53206 is the worst in the nation continues to be made.

The 2015 documentary film, "Milwaukee 53206," included an appearance by then-Milwaukee Police Chief Ed Flynn: 

"We have a famous ZIP code, 53206, and I always hear about it because so many prisoners come from there," Flynn says in the film. "The homicide rate in 53206 is 250 per 100,000. Now, nobody should have to live in that kind of circumstance." 

At one point in the documentary, a woman who was interviewed says the area’s incarceration rate is "one of the most incarcerated ZIP codes in the world."

A 2017 Milwaukee Neighborhood News Service report said: "In 53206, the population is 94 percent black with an average age of about 29. In this, the most incarcerated ZIP code in the country, 47.5 percent of people and two-thirds of children live below the poverty line." 

A 2017 article in the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel noted "Even after 10 years of effort, researchers at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee failed to locate any other ZIP code in the nation with a matching per-capita share of residents who are or were incarcerated."

A Milwaukee Journal Sentinel 2018 article hearkened back to the original UWM study, noting it found 53206 "was the most incarcerated ZIP code in the state, with a majority of its men having spent time in jail or prison." 

Indeed, Barnes’ chief of staff, Fred Ludwig, referred PolitiFact Wisconsin to that article when we asked him for back up to the claim.

"In regards to previously stating that 53206 is ‘our nation's most incarcerated zip code,’ this has been a commonly reported claim," Ludwig said in an email. 

Ludwig noted an even more recent report (May 12, 2019), from FOX 6 News with this headline: "Screening of ‘Milwaukee 53206’ details what it’s like to live in the most incarcerated ZIP code in the US"

But that simply continues the circle.

The Milwaukee picture

A recent study by Harvard University’s Opportunity Insights policy and research institute examined incarceration rates for African American men in the 50 largest metro areas.

By that measure, Milwaukee came out on top (15.8 percent).

Shannon Felton Spence, press contact for the institute, said the statistic applies specifically to black men who grew up in Milwaukee (from age 0-23) "no matter where they are living now as adults, who were incarcerated on the day of the 2010 Census (April 1, 2010)." 

A Sept. 1, 2019 article in the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, citing the same Harvard data, noted: 

When the incarceration rate was measured for all ethnicities, Milwaukee registered another statistical extreme: among all 73,500 census tracts anywhere within the United States, the tract that had the highest share of incarcerated males was in a Milwaukee north side neighborhood where 33.1 percent of the male population was incarcerated in the 2010 census (an average U.S. census tract encompasses 3,000 to 4,000 residents).

On Feb. 28, 2019, Marc V. Levine, founding director of the Center for Economic Development at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, issued a study titled "Milwaukee 53206: The Anatomy of Concentrated Disadvantage."

The study digs deeply into the numbers driving the challenges faced by 53206, from employment to housing inequality. The section on incarceration noted the rates here are "staggeringly high," even as the report debunked the worst-in-the-nation claim.

In an email to PolitiFact Wisconsin, Levine noted "measuring incarceration at the zip code (or neighborhood) level is very complicated, and the data we have are imperfect and are not like a census enumeration." 

The bottom line, from Levine’s report:

"Thus, even if characterizations of Milwaukee 53206 as the ‘most incarcerated’ ZIP code in America are hyperbole, this should not obscure the reality that mass incarceration is an integral component in the ‘ecosystem’ of concentrated disadvantage that continues to weigh on this beleaguered neighborhood."

That point is one that no one disputes.

And that, of course, is the underlying point politicians such as Barnes are making when they cite the status of 53206 -- even though it often gets blown out of proportion.

Sours: https://www.politifact.com/article/2019/sep/10/milwaukees-53206-zip-code-really-tops-incarceratio/

As recently as 2018, Milwaukee ranked second in USA Today’s“15 worst cities for black Americans,” primarily because the median income of black families is 42.5 percent of white families. The black unemployment rate is roughly four times that of white unemployment. Home ownership among black Milwaukeeans stands at 28.2 percent, while white Milwaukeeans enjoy a home ownership rate of 69.5 percent.

Much of Milwaukee’s formerly robust workforce was employed at factories along Milwaukee Road, a train line that carried goods to the factories alongside it. Allis-Chalmers employed 11,500 people; American Motors, 4,000; Schlitz Brewing, 2,800; Pabst Brewing, 2,600. Meanwhile, “dozens and dozens and dozens of businesses grew up along the rail line,” according to Jackson, to serve the factories’ workers. The 30th Street Corridor, which now sits squarely in 53206, was once home to “a lot of small factories.”

That same corridor now looks like a “bomb hit” it, Jackson says. Perhaps the largest anchor employer in this area was the manufacturer AO Smith, hiring nearly 8,000 people on its own. The company was once the largest car frame manufacturer in the United States, servicing frames for the majority of American-made cars and trucks. Its buildings occupied the 30th Street Corridor, which is now “really one of the most difficult areas in Milwaukee,” Jackson, who grew up in the area, says. “Drive down 30th Street, you will see a trail—a trail of destruction.” It is indeed a sobering sight: hollowed-out buildings, abandoned train tracks. I was twice warned that, even as a large black man, that “you might not want to be here.”

The 30th Street Corridor now looks like a “bomb hit” it, Jackson says.

Khalif Rainey, an alderman on the Milwaukee Common Council who represents parts of 53206, told me that the district is distressed “due to these losses in job opportunities.” By 2004, AO Smith employed only 575 people. During its industrial heyday, the ten largest employers in Milwaukee were either in manufacturing or brewing, and they offered their often minimally educated workers healthy salaries and benefits; in 2004, the ten biggest employers either paid comparatively low wages (like the grocery store chain Roundy’s and the retailer Kohl’s), or had higher barriers of entry, via job requirements of advanced degrees or long periods of intensive, expensive training.

Sours: https://newrepublic.com/article/155241/inside-most-incarcerated-zip-code-country
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Milwaukee, WI

Crime Rates

With a crime rate of 40 per one thousand residents, Milwaukee has one of the highest crime rates in America compared to all communities of all sizes - from the smallest towns to the very largest cities. One's chance of becoming a victim of either violent or property crime here is one in 25. Within Wisconsin, more than 97% of the communities have a lower crime rate than Milwaukee. In fact, after researching dangerous places to live, NeighborhoodScout found Milwaukee to be one of the top 100 most dangerous cities in the U.S.A.

However, compared to other communities of similar population size, Milwaukee has a crime rate that is noticeably lower than the average. This means that for comparably sized cities all across America, Milwaukee is actually safer than most according to NeighborhoodScout's exclusive analysis of FBI crime data.

Now let us turn to take a look at how Milwaukee does for violent crimes specifically, and then how it does for property crimes. This is important because the overall crime rate can be further illuminated by understanding if violent crime or property crimes (or both) are the major contributors to the general rate of crime in Milwaukee.

For Milwaukee, we found that the violent crime rate is one of the highest in the nation, across communities of all sizes (both large and small). Violent offenses tracked included rape, murder and non-negligent manslaughter, armed robbery, and aggravated assault, including assault with a deadly weapon. According to NeighborhoodScout's analysis of FBI reported crime data, your chance of becoming a victim of one of these crimes in Milwaukee is one in 74.

Significantly, based on the number of murders reported by the FBI and the number of residents living in the city, NeighborhoodScout's analysis shows that Milwaukee experiences one of the higher murder rates in the nation when compared with cities and towns for all sizes of population, from the largest to the smallest.

NeighborhoodScout's analysis also reveals that Milwaukee's rate for property crime is 26 per one thousand population. This makes Milwaukee a place where there is an above average chance of becoming a victim of a property crime, when compared to all other communities in America of all population sizes. Property crimes are motor vehicle theft, arson, larceny, and burglary. Your chance of becoming a victim of any of these crimes in Milwaukee is one in 38.

Importantly, we found that Milwaukee has one of the highest rates of motor vehicle theft in the nation according to our analysis of FBI crime data. This is compared to communities of all sizes, from the smallest to the largest. In fact, your chance of getting your car stolen if you live in Milwaukee is one in 169.

Sours: https://www.neighborhoodscout.com/wi/milwaukee/crime
Milwaukee on 'most dangerous cities' list

In Milwaukee's poorest ZIP code, fruits and vegetables become powerful weapons for saving young boys

It’s 6:35 a.m. on a humid Saturday in a community garden on Milwaukee’s north side, and a black man is kneeling to inspectthe green tomatoes starting to form on a vine.

He’s singing an old Negro spiritual: I am on the battlefield for my Lord. And I promised him that I would serve him till I die.

Andre Lee Ellis spends every day on the battlefield.

It surrounds his home, his garden, his neighborhood. His fight is to save boys growing up in the 53206 ZIP code, which has one of the highest incarceration rates for black men in the nation — and one of the shortest life expectancy rates.

I am on the battlefield for my Lord.

Ellis’ weapons are fruits and vegetables, mentorship and love. And, when called for, a stern demeanor.

His garden, on the corner of North 9th and West Ring streets, has two dozen four-by-six-foot vegetable boxes, which will produce zucchini, lettuce, eggplant, green beans, tomatoes, cantaloupe and blackberries. In the fall, the produce will be given away to area families in need. 

It is June 16, the kickoff of the fifth year of the “We Got This” program, which Ellis, 58, runs on a shoestring budget. The program is aimed at boys, ages 12 to 17. They arrive each Saturday to work in the garden, pick up trash in the neighborhood. At the end, they collect a $20 bill for their efforts.

Along the way, they receive support and guidance from adult mentors.

It is 6:55 a.m. The program starts at 8 a.m. sharp. 

Ellis takes a seat on a wooden bench and uses his baseball cap — 53206 written on the front — to wipe beads of sweat from his face. 

Every summer, there are worries: Will there be enough money? Enough mentors? Will the boys be safe? The volunteers? 

For Ellis, the worries continue during the other seasons as well. Two boys and one volunteer were killed since the last harvest.

Andre Lee Ellis is founder of "We Got This." Ellis says, “We can find peace right here in 53206. This is a beautiful place with beautiful people, and we don't have to go to Shorewood or Mequon to find that.”

Deaundra Taylor, 15, was shot and killed Nov. 1, 2017. Volunteer Kevin Williams, 32, was shot and killed Jan. 29. In May, Dennis “Booman” King, 15, was beaten, stabbed to death and his body set on fire. It was found May 20 in a vacant house about four blocks from the garden. Mayor Tom Barrett called the homicide "totally senseless." 

Ellis was shaken by what he called an "evil act of violence." Weeks later, on the first day of the program, the pain is still sharp.

Now Ellis begins to pray aloud:

“Dear God, I ask that you look out for the young men who will be coming here today to look for guidance," he says. "And keep teaching us how to love each other, for this is how I pray. Amen.” 

His hands shake as he stretches his arms and reaches toward the sunny sky.


By 7:27 a.m. there are already 14 boys lined up to get into the garden. The first had arrived at 7:15 a.m. Many are in shorts; a few are in flip flops. 

As the clock ticks toward 8 a.m., Ellis yells down the street at a few boys who are walking in the distance.

“Hurry up! You know 8:01 is late!”

Before the youths can set foot in the garden, Ellis requires them to shake his hand and make eye contact. Then he acknowledges them in a positive way. He asks about family members and happenings in the neighborhood. He congratulates one teen who he heard made $80 in a single day cutting grass for his neighbors.

“Man, you are going to be rich if you keep that up,” Ellis says, then adds with a purpose: “Now you know what you need to do? You need to get a banking account, so you can start saving your money for college.”

When a 16-year-old arrives, bandages and scratches on his arms, Ellis asks why he was in a fight.

"No reason."

“Well, where were you that ‘no reason’ is causing you to get jumped on? You are in the wrong place with the wrong people," Ellis replies. "You can’t be coming to the garden beat up, because that is going to have you angry.

"And that is going to make you want to get a weapon and hurt somebody back … and then you are going to end up in prison."

Ellis is often purposefully harsh.

“I try to provide them with the tools to grow," Ellis said, "so they can make that decision not to jump in that (stolen car), and not to pick up that gun, because they need to make those decisions when no one else is around.”

Ellis also notices qualities the kids may not see in themselves.

Two years ago, he met Jalen Green, 12, and told him he sees him with a microphone. Jalen was asked to give a speech at the annual "Tuxedo Walk," a December fundraiser for the garden attended by the boys, mentors and community supporters.

“Little did he know that years earlier, Jalen could not speak in complete sentences because he had a speech disorder,” said Cadence Jackson, Jalen's mother. “But he believed in my son."

Jalen told his story in front of 500 people, and received a standing ovation.

“Before that, I never thought that I could talk in front of people," Jalen said. "He brought something out of me.”

Andre Lee Ellis, founder of "We Got This," gives Nicholas Johnson, 9, a rebuke on a Saturday in June. Ellis is known for his stern approach, but at the same time often tells the boys they are special and he loves them – words he says they don't hear often enough.

In the garden, gang handshakes, cursing and running are forbidden. Boys with sagging jeans are instructed to pull their pants up.

“I don’t want to see your drawers,” Ellis said. “Nobody wants to see that. And the women definitely don’t want to see it.”

On the first morning of the 10-week program, more than 50 boys arrive — a big number considering Ellis doesn't advertise. The number will grow over the summer as more kids find out about the program via word of mouth.  

A few of the boys get there just after the 8 a.m. cutoff, and are scolded.

"I’m going to let you slide this week but next week you have to be on time because that’s the rules,” Ellis says.

He knows many will have questions about "Booman," who was a popular figure in the garden the prior summer. Police say he was killed because he allegedly took someone's video game system. Malik M. Terrell, 21, has been charged in the death.

It's not long before a young man asks about what happened.

“Booman was a really good kid and a hard worker," Ellis says. "I miss him.”

"I still can’t believe they killed him like that,” says Marshawn Dixon, 20, who participates in the program. While Dixon is older, Ellis' age restriction for participating is a loose one. 

Ellis puts his arm around Dixon and takes him to the side. Dixon wipes away tears before returning to the garden.

For some, this is the first time they have had the opportunity to get those tears out and talk about how they feel, Ellis said. 

“This is a place where you can do that.” 

The 53206 ZIP code is the city's poorest and most troubled.

Of the 29,000 residents, 45 percent live below the poverty line, which is $25,100 for a family of four. Only 36 percent of working-age males are employed; 66 percent of the homes are headed by black women.

In a state with the highest black male incarceration rate in the nation, 53206 is ground zero, according to Lois Quinn, a former University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee researcher.

In a 2013 report, she wrote the area included nearly 4,000 black men who were in prison or had been, meaning virtually every block had multiple ex-offenders. There is little evidence things have changed in the years since.

Problems scar the area, creating a cycle that echoes from one generation to the next: Being without a job encourages illegal moneymaking activities in order to make ends meet, Quinn said, which increases the risk of incarceration.

"A prison record carries a stigma in the eyes of employers and decreases the probability that an ex-offender will be hired, thus continuing the cycle."

Simply cleaning up a vacant lot can make a difference.

In a study published in July, a group of researchers from Philadelphia found that low-income people living near newly “greened” lots not only felt better about their neighborhoods, they also reported lower levels of stress and depression. 

A 2017 study from the University of Chicago found that children from disadvantaged neighborhoods who had a summer job, worked with mentors, and received behavioral training and conflict management reported a 33 percent reduction in violent crime arrests the following year.

James E. Causey kept a weekly journal while he was reporting about the summer garden program.

What has happened around 9th and Ring?

In December 2011, a month before Ellis moved there, the area was home to the second-highest crime block in the City of Milwaukee. Today, police say it is no longer in the top 50. 

From 2014 to 2018, property crime fell 10 percent in a broader area that includes 9th and Ring, statistics show. Still, violent crime increased about 12 percent.

“I know what Andre is doing is working,” said Ald. Milele Coggs, who represents the area.

She told the story of Ellis confronting a man dealing drugs. The man said he was trying to support his family because he couldn’t find a job. Ellis promised that he would find him a job if he stopped dealing drugs. 

Ellis got the man a job at an Old Country Buffet restaurant. The man later enrolled in culinary school at Milwaukee Area Technical College. 

“Several years ago he was offered a job working at a restaurant in Dubai,” Coggs said. “That’s what I call changing a life for the better, and he does this all the time.”

She and others, though, worry about the size of the need.

Milwaukee has 2,940 vacant lots in its inventory of tax foreclosed properties.

At least one-third of those lots are in 53206.

And there is only one Andre Lee Ellis.

Ellis grew up in the area, the ninth of 14 children. For much of the time, his family lived in the Lapham Park public housing complex at 617 W. Brown St.

His biological father died when his mother was three months pregnant with him. The family struggled to get by.

“You hear a lot of people saying they didn’t know they were poor growing up," he said. "I knew we were poor and I didn’t like it.” 

After graduating from Bay View High School in 1977, Ellis spent years working for the Hansberry-Sands Theatre Company in Milwaukee before moving to New York in 1987 to enroll in the Herbert Berghof Studio acting school. 

“I’ve always loved the stage because it was an escape for me and I could be and do whatever I wanted,” Ellis said.

After graduating, he worked in theater in Atlanta before returning to Milwaukee to become artistic director at Hansberry-Sands. In 1997, he started Andre Lee Ellis and Company, which put on productions here and throughout the country.

The company put on plays like “Quiet As It’s Kept,” a tribute to the legacy of African-American folk heroes, and “Tellin’ It Like It Tis,” a play he wrote that featured 10 black men sharing stories about their life experiences.

When the theater company was no longer financially viable, Ellis and his wife, Angela, were forced to move from Brewers Hill, a diverse community north of downtown, into a duplex on 9th and Ring in November 2011. 

Suddenly, Ellis was living the issues he explored on stage. 

Less than a week after moving in, he returned home from a trip to the corner store when six or seven gunshots rang out.

“I paused, and I asked, ‘Did they just shoot me?’” he said.

Ellis was not hit, but when he and his wife went to the front window, there was a black man dead in the street. Soon they spotted children standing around the yellow police tape looking at the covered body before it was taken away. 

He felt trapped, because they didn’t have enough money to move. 

One morning, while Ellis was sweeping in front of his house, he noticed a drug dealer across the street and crossed over to talk to him.

“He asked me what I needed," Ellis said. "And I told him I needed him not to stand on this corner every day selling drugs.”

When the dealer said his name was Butch, Ellis pulled a piece of paper from his back pocket and turned to his acting skills.

“Oh, you are the one that the police were talking about at the police meeting last night," he said, looking down as if the paper included notes from the meeting. "They are looking at you real close. If I were you, I wouldn’t come around here anymore.”

The paper was blank.

Before long, the drug dealer was gone.


One day, Ellis noticed an empty lot on the corner. A neighborhood kid told him it was supposed to be a garden, but nobody ever did anything with it. 

Ellis decided he would.

Soon, he had acquired the lot and a $4,000 grant from the city to buy new box gardens. 

Ellis wanted the garden to be a meeting place for the neighborhood. When adults had disputes, he wanted them to be resolved in the garden. Instead of coming to blows, he wanted them to start up the grill, have a burger, and talk it out.

When Ellis told his mother about the homicide on 9th and Ring and how he intended to change the neighborhood, she told him he was home. He was born in a house on 10th and Ring, just a block away.

“I never knew that," he said. "God is good.” 


Each summer, dozens of boys participate in the garden program, which completed its fifth year in August.

Ellis created the youth garden program after a mother knocked on his door seeking help for her 11-year-old son, who had been arrested for stealing cars. The boy, Jermaine, had not seen his father in years.

Ellis went to the police station and — in a moment of desperation — told the captain he was starting a program for young people, and Jermaine would be a participant.

He improvised the details: The program would go from 8 a.m. to noon every Saturday and he would pay the boys $5 an hour.

The captain asked what the program was called. 

The response: “We Got This.”

On that first day, the following Saturday, Jermaine showed up 45 minutes early.During a break, he told Ellis he “was not as bad as people say I am.” At the end of the day, he left with $20 and was told he could come back the following week.

Later that day, when Ellis and his wife were driving home from an errand, they spotted a sharply-dressed young man dressed all in white. It was Jermaine.

When they stopped, Jermaine told them how he used his money. He got a haircut for $5, spent another $5 to take the bus to the roller rink and back, rented skates with $5 and used the last $5 to get a soda and a hot dog.

The following Saturday, Jermaine showed up at the garden with five other boys.

Within weeks, there were a dozen boys. Then more.

Ellis realized that he was on to something, but needed a way to pay them all.

He posted a picture on Facebook, described what he was doing, and asked friends and followers to contribute. Soon, adults were arriving — offering $5, $20, whatever they could afford, to support the effort. Some started to volunteer.

On most days, the ratio of boys to volunteers is about 15 to 1. Ellis would like to have that number closer to 5 to 1.

"It doesn’t get more grassroots than this," said Ellis, "because the community is supporting these boys and the boys can see it."

Mike De Sisti / Milwaukee Journal Sentinel

In the garden, amid the digging and planting, the watering and weed-pulling, Ellis constantly offers advice.

He tells the boys to not let the way people look at them stop them from being nice to each other. And that racism and discrimination can cause people to act out.

“You don’t have to be what the media portrays you to be," he says. "Prove them wrong.”

Ellis works mainly with black boys ages 12 to 17 because it’s a critical age when they can either go left or right — especially if they don’t have a father or a positive male figure in their lives steering them in the right direction.

Often, 80 to 90 percent of the boys who come to the garden don't have relationships with their fathers. Many have lost fathers to incarceration.

Each week, when the work is done, it is time to talk. The boys and mentors break into smaller groups.

On the third Saturday of the program, the focus is on violence they have witnessed.

One boy describes how a bullet “whizzed by my head” when his neighbors got into a fight.

Another says his cousin was shot and killed outside of their home. The men who shot his cousin then ran into the home looking for any witnesses. He and his mother hid in the basement, terrified, as the men searched the house.

“I keep thinking that they are going to come back and kill me one day,” he says. 

When asked who they talk to, one says, simply, "God."

In Wisconsin, 88,000 children have had at least one parent in prison at some point in their lives, according to a 2016 report from the Annie E. Casey Foundation, called “A Shared Sentence.” 

That group includes more than 40,000 African-American children, many of them in Milwaukee, said Reggie Jackson, head griot, or storyteller, at America’s Black Holocaust Museum, who studies disadvantaged communities and uses that information to hold community discussions.

“Those parents are absent from their children’s lives for years,” he said.

Incarceration has played a critical role in the life of Devin Bell, 17, who lives on North 11th St. and West Keefe Ave. — three blocks from the garden. 

“I will be the first Bell to be of legal age to not have contact with the police whatsoever,” he said, and broke it down: “My father has felonies. All five of my uncles are in prison. Two are serving 25 to life the rest are doing bits of 25 years. 

“Those are the men who could have been a part of my support system."

Ellis often tells the boys that he may not be their “birth dad," but he is their "Earth Dad."

Bell has been coming to the garden for four years. For him, it's about more than the $20 weekly payment.

“I just like being around positive men who are on a positive level," he said. "You get tired of being around people who are just getting in trouble, stealing cars and hurting people.”

Bell, a senior at Pulaski High School, has seen people jumped, stabbed and killed. He doesn't like to talk about it, doesn't like to think about it. 

"You can just come here and chill," he said of the garden. "Sometimes I just come out here and sit by myself when things get too difficult.” 


Speakers at the Saturday sessions show the youth a slice of what is possible.

One Saturday, Muhibb Dyer, a nationally known spoken word artist and community activist who grew up on North 12th and West Ring streets, stands in front of the boys, holding his 3-year-old daughter, Mahdiya.

He tells of a childhood friend who is serving 60 years in prison for selling cocaine. He tells of another who is serving 25 years for a bank robbery.

He tells how his own godson was shot to death in 2006. He was 16.

Dyer, 43, tells the boys to think about what they want.

“When you want 'hood respect,' you don’t give a damn how you make your money," he says. "You want to make your money even if you must destroy everything around you. You don’t care about the families you are tearing apart because as long as you make your money, you’re straight.”

He sets Mahdiya down, and pulls a diploma from his backpack: the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, 2000. That degree in educational policies and community studies took more than 1,000 hours of study. It represents "community respect."

“When you want world respect, you build yourself," Dyer says. "You get educated and you decide you are going to make your money giving hope. You are going to make your money giving dreams. You are going to make your money making your 'hood better than how you received it.”

When he finishes, the circle of boys stands and applauds.


Even after five summers, the program operates week to week financially.

Some Saturdays, Ellis does not know if he'll have enough money to pay the 60 to 100 boys until a Facebook message is sent and benefactors arrive.

It costs about $4,000 a week. Ellis is proud of never having missed a payment for a boy. A board of directors is working to get non-profit status for "We Got This."

Ellis does not draw a salary or have another job — the boys of the neighborhood are his calling. Sometimes he is paid for speaking engagements, but the main source of household income is his wife's paycheck from Pick 'n Save.

One member of the We Got This board is Sandy Botcher, 55, a Mequon resident who each Saturday brings about six dozen cookies for the boys to eat during their break. She started volunteering in the garden four years ago after she heard the story of how Ellis helped Jermaine.

“I was on my own journey to understanding what was really going on in Milwaukee,” said Botcher, who is white. "I don’t feel that I have any racial bias, but there are things that you don’t know, and they shape what you think.

“I needed to know what it was like to be these young men."

Her goal is to make sure “We Got This” becomes sustainable.

“Right now, he’s muscling it all," she said of Ellis. "We need to let him be where he’s best and that’s working with the youth.” 


One Saturday in mid-July, as the boys were about to get started with their cleanup, a car speeds past the garden. The 16-year-old driver: Jermaine, the boy Ellis helped five years ago.

The two had developed a bond, but Jermaine had a wild streak that left Ellis worried about him being hurt, or hurting someone else.

“He ain’t going to make it,” Ellis says. "Sometimes we have a death wish. We don’t want to kill ourselves, but wish someone else would do it.”

As Ellis tells the boys about what was in store that day, the car — a stolen Nissan — speeds past again. Some of the boys seem impressed.

“Don’t be distracted by the loud noises in life," Ellis says. "They only come to throw you off. If you ignore the loud noises like that of life, they will disappear.”

The car pulls up and Jermaine drops three boys off. The youngest, 12, is wearing an electronic monitoring bracelet nearly as big as his foot. 

Ellis allows the 12-year-old to stay to help serve lunch. The other two boys sit on the stairs of the grocery store across the street. Later, when the work is over, one of the boys snatches a $20 bill from one of those who worked all morning to earn it.

The three run away and other boys chase them.

Soon, the three are back standing before Ellis, each denying their involvement. Ellis is shaking with anger and disbelief. 

“I know one thing: We are going to get this $20 back,” Ellis says. “Now who took it?”

The boy with the ankle bracelet starts crying and admits he was involved. The oldest boy eventually takes the money from his pocket and returns it.

Ellis asks the boy with the ankle bracelet why he would grab someone's money in front of so many witnesses. 

The response: "I don't know."

There is disagreement among the group — mentors and kids alike — about what should happen to the three. Some say they should be banished from the garden.

For Ellis, such situations are a difficult calculus.

How do you balance rules with second chances? What message does your decision send to those who followed the rules — and those who broke them?

But, mostly: How can you save a kid, if he's not there?

“Each kid in this equation is valuable and can learn from their mistakes," he said later. "We need to make them understand that their actions have consequences and when they harm their brothers it has lasting effects.”

The next day, two of the boys knocked on Ellis’ door to apologize.

In this case, his calculation was right.

“I’d rather go to a graduation instead of a funeral,” he said. 


How 'We Got This' was started


One Saturday in mid-July, as the boys were about to get started with their cleanup, a car speeds past the garden. The 16-year-old driver: Jermaine, the boy Ellis helped five years ago.

The two had developed a bond, but Jermaine had a wild streak that left Ellis worried about him being hurt, or hurting someone else.

“He ain’t going to make it,” Ellis says. "Sometimes we have a death wish. We don’t want to kill ourselves, but wish someone else would do it.”

As Ellis tells the boys about what was in store that day, the car — a stolen Nissan — speeds past again. Some of the boys seem impressed.

“Don’t be distracted by the loud noises in life," Ellis says. "They only come to throw you off. If you ignore the loud noises like that of life, they will disappear.”

The car pulls up and Jermaine drops three boys off. The youngest, 12, is wearing an electronic monitoring bracelet nearly as big as his foot. 

Ellis allows the 12-year-old to stay to help serve lunch. The other two boys sit on the stairs of the grocery store across the street. Later, when the work is over, one of the boys snatches a $20 bill from one of those who worked all morning to earn it.

The three run away and other boys chase them.

Soon, the three are back standing before Ellis, each denying their involvement. Ellis is shaking with anger and disbelief. 

“I know one thing: We are going to get this $20 back,” Ellis says. “Now who took it?”

The boy with the ankle bracelet starts crying and admits he was involved. The oldest boy eventually takes the money from his pocket and returns it.

Ellis asks the boy with the ankle bracelet why he would grab someone's money in front of so many witnesses. 

The response: "I don't know."

There is disagreement among the group — mentors and kids alike — about what should happen to the three. Some say they should be banished from the garden.

For Ellis, such situations are a difficult calculus.

How do you balance rules with second chances? What message does your decision send to those who followed the rules — and those who broke them?

But, mostly: How can you save a kid, if he's not there?

“Each kid in this equation is valuable and can learn from their mistakes," he said later. "We need to make them understand that their actions have consequences and when they harm their brothers it has lasting effects.”

The next day, two of the boys knocked on Ellis’ door to apologize.

In this case, his calculation was right.

“I’d rather go to a graduation instead of a funeral,” he said. 


On the Sunday before the final garden session, Ellis holds a "Salad Festival" to raise money and highlight the fruits and vegetables his crew has grown.

The garden beds are filled with ripe tomatoes, zucchini and cantaloupe, with rows of basil and mint. Several kids eat blackberries and strawberries straight from the bush. 

Ellis is proud of the boys and, the day before, hadtold them they were the best group of men he had ever worked with. He had been hard on them, he said, because he wanted them to be successful.

The Salad Festival is meant to be a fundraiser, but Ellis gave out dozens of free tickets. There is a buffet line of salads, chicken wings from a grill, a cooking demonstration from Ellis.

Some who arrive don't have tickets at all — they are folks who gravitate to the garden because, in the words of Ellis, they are "in need." One older man stops by most Saturdays, filling a plate for himself once the boys are fed. No one questions him.

At the end of the event, as volunteers clean up the garden, there are loud gunshots in the distance.

Ellis recognizes the particular sound.

It sounds like death.

Soon, his cellphone rings. The voice on the other end: "Mr. Andre, Erik is dead and they shot the baby boy, too." 


Video: Garden project mentors African-American boys


 The man who was killed was Erik Williams, 28, a volunteer for the program. He was trying to shield his 4-year-old son, Erik Demetrious Williams, Jr., known as “Doobie,” but the boy was struck four times and taken to the hospital.

Eight months earlier, 32-year-old Kevin Williams — Erik's brother — was shot and killed at 10th and Ring. A cluster of stuffed animals, deflated balloons, and artificial carnations remain wrapped to a telephone pole as a makeshift memorial. 

On Monday morning, his 58th birthday, Ellis writes this on his Facebook page:

"I'm hurting like a father who just lost another Son. Less than 8 months ago we all pitched in to bury his brother Kevin and less the 2-years-ago we helped bury his Mother. Erik always expressed how grateful he was.

"So sorry that homicide no.12 (of the month of August) happens to be one our sons, a real close Son."

The post asks for support and prayers. For Williams and little Doobie, for the neighborhood, for strength, for peace.

"As I close this note 6 loud gunshots just rang out," it concludes. "Yet I have hope and I shall trust God more."


At the funeral, Ellis takes the microphone and addresses the crowd, remembering how Erik Williams always put his children first.

“He loved his kids and they were with him until his last breath." 

Ellis looks at the silver casket, where Williams is dressed in a red shirt. Ellis promises he would be there for his boys until the day he died. 

Angela Ellis worries about her husband doing too much. 

Ellis is diabetic and has been hospitalized several times this year, yet he didn't take any Saturdays off to rest. He pushed himself to raise enough money so the mentors would not have to pay to attend the annual "Tuxedo Walk," usually held in December, but fell short and the event was cancelled.

Angela Ellis said people don't understand the toll of all the late-night phone calls, often requests for help solving family disputes. They don’t hear the knocks on the door from people needing help —not just families of the boys, others in the neighborhood. They don't know how personally he takes things. 

That week alone, Ellis attended five funerals.

At the Erik Williams funeral, Ellis consoles several young men. Outside, he tells one young man to either tuck his shirt in his pants, or to take it out completely.

“You can’t be half tucked," he says. "Make a choice.”


The shooting of Erik Williams rattled Ellis.

A few days later, he was working in the garden when Janice Williams, 56, walked up. Erik Williams was her nephew. And a grandson, 15, had been there when he and Doobie were shot. The teen was grazed by a bullet.

She had lived in the neighborhood, and knew the impact the garden had on the area. She had been at the Salad Festival and had just gotten home when she heard the gunfire, opened her door and saw her nephew on the ground in the distance.

She ran down to the shooting scene and saw Erik crawling towards his son.

“He told me, ‘Auntie, just get Doobie. Auntie, just get Doobie,’” she said in an interview. “Then he passed on. Now every time I look down there I’m seeing that.”

While Williams worries about her own mental health, she told Ellis she mostly worries about her grandson. 

“He said he’s OK," she said. "But I know my grandson and I know he’s not.”

Ellis promised he would stop by her house. He promised he would continue helping.

“We will get through this," he said. "It won’t be easy, but we all will get through this.”

**

[This story was originally published by Journal Sentinel.]

Sours: https://centerforhealthjournalism.org/fellowships/projects/milwaukees-poorest-zip-code-fruits-and-vegetables-become-powerful-weapons

In milwaukee zip code worst

53206 is Wisconsin's most incarcerated ZIP code. Here are 4 more facts about the Milwaukee neighborhood.

When community activist Andre Lee Ellis moved to a house on the corner of North 9th and West Ring streets in Milwaukee November 2011, the block was considered one of the city's most violent.

Days after he and his wife moved in, a man was shot and killed just feet from their front door. Ellis, who had spent years working in theater, vowed to improve his neighborhood.

That neighborhood is at the center of the 53206 ZIP code, one of the most troubled in the city.

In 2014, Ellis started a youth mentoring program called “We Got This.” It focuses on boys from ages 12 to 17 and is centered around a community garden. On Saturdays in the summer, they spend four hours at the garden, cleaning up the neighborhood and meeting with mentors.

Here are five fast facts about 53206:

1. A 2013 University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee study found it was the most incarcerated ZIP code in the state, with a majority of its men having spent time in jail or prison. Experts say little has happened since to suggest the ranking has changed. 

2. A third of Milwaukee's 2,940 vacant lots are located in 53206.

3. Two-thirds of the children in 53206 live in poverty, compared with 42 percent of all children 18 and under city-wide. 

4. Nearly 95 percent of its residents are black. No other ZIP code has a greater percentage of African Americans.  

5. Residents received the lowest rating for health outcomes from the Center for Urban Population Health in 2009. The rating was based on access to quality healthcare; health behaviors; physical environment; poverty and education.

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Sours: https://www.jsonline.com/story/news/local/wisconsin/2018/12/07/53206-facts-milwaukees-troubled-zip-code/2237529002/
These Are The 10 WORST Milwaukee Neighborhoods To Live

Editor’s Note: This article is an opinion based on facts and is meant as infotainment. Don’t freak out we updated this article for 2021. This is our fifth time ranking the worst neighborhoods to live in Milwaukee.

Worst Neighborhoods In Milwaukee

Source: Wikipedia User Dori | GFDL

Article Table Of Contents   

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Milwaukee's neighborhoods conjure up too many stereotypes to count. You've got hipster areas, preppy places, neighborhoods where college kids thrive, and of course, ghettos.

It seems as if there's a neighborhood for everyone in Milwaukee.

And while the city consistently ranks as one of the best places to live in the country thanks in part to a strong economy and tons of entertainment, it's not all rainbows and sunshine in Milwaukee. Some neighborhoods aren't as great as others.

So the question arises, which Milwaukee neighborhoods are the worst, and which are the best?

Today, we'll use science and data to determine which Milwaukee hoods need a little tender loving care - the sore thumbs of the Milwaukee area if you will. Realistically, you can't expect all the neighborhoods to be amazing, although Downer Woods ranks way above the rest.

We examined 174 of Milwaukee's neighborhoods to find out the worst places to live. These places don't quite measure up to Milwaukee's reputation.

So what's the worst neighborhood to live in Milwaukee for 2021? According to the most recent census data, Metcalfe Park looks to be the worst neighborhood in Milwaukee.

Read on to see how we determined the places around Milwaukee that need a pick-me-up. And remember, don't blame the messenger.

Once you're done, you can look at the bottom of the story for a complete chart of every neighborhood we looked at from worst to best. Looking for places to avoid outside of the city? You can also check out the worst suburbs of Milwaukee.

For more Wisconsin reading, check out:

The 10 Worst Neighborhoods In Milwaukee For 2021

Overall SnackAbility

Population: 2,673
Rank Last Year: 2 (Up 1)
Median Home Value: $53,175 (11th worst)
Median Income: $22,064 (9th worst)
More on Metcalfe Park:Data

Overall SnackAbility

Population: 1,563
Rank Last Year: 1 (Down 1)
Median Home Value: $72,660 (34th worst)
Median Income: $24,584 (14th worst)
More on Triangle North:Data

Overall SnackAbility

Population: 616
Rank Last Year: 3 (No Change)
Median Home Value: $70,650 (30th worst)
Median Income: $24,730 (15th worst)
More on Halyard Park:Data

Overall SnackAbility

Population: 6,023
Rank Last Year: 4 (No Change)
Median Home Value: $45,575 (4th worst)
Median Income: $22,031 (8th worst)
More on North Division:Data

Overall SnackAbility

Population: 1,622
Rank Last Year: 5 (No Change)
Median Home Value: $23,633 (2nd worst)
Median Income: $18,505 (worst)
More on Hillside:Data

Overall SnackAbility

Population: 2,641
Rank Last Year: 6 (No Change)
Median Home Value: $71,980 (33rd worst)
Median Income: $24,766 (16th worst)
More on Williamsburg:Data

Overall SnackAbility

Population: 3,016
Rank Last Year: 7 (No Change)
Median Home Value: $35,140 (3rd worst)
Median Income: $27,673 (30th worst)
More on Garden Homes:Data

Overall SnackAbility

Population: 881
Rank Last Year: 8 (No Change)
Median Home Value: $50,467 (8th worst)
Median Income: $26,556 (23rd worst)
More on Clock Tower Acres:Data

Overall SnackAbility

Population: 6,270
Rank Last Year: 9 (No Change)
Median Home Value: $51,536 (9th worst)
Median Income: $21,585 (7th worst)
More on Park West:Data

Overall SnackAbility

Population: 2,146
Rank Last Year: 10 (No Change)
Median Home Value: $45,840 (5th worst)
Median Income: $20,025 (4th worst)
More on King Park:Data

How we determined the worst Milwaukee hoods in 2021

To figure out how bad a place is to live in, we only needed to know what kinds of things people like and then decide what places have the least amount of those things. We threw the following criteria into this analysis in order to get the best, most complete results possible. We used this set of criteria for each neighborhood in Milwaukee:

  • High unemployment (Less jobs)
  • Low median income (Less pay)
  • Low population density (No things to do)
  • Low home values (No one's willing to pay to live here)
  • High crime (Estimated)

Then, we ranked each neighborhood in Milwaukee, Wisconsin for each of these criteria from worst to best.

Next, we averaged the individual rankings for each criteria into a "Worst Score".

The neighborhood with the lowest "Worst Score" ranks as the worst neighborhood of Milwaukee.

Read on below to learn more about these terrible places around Milwaukee to live. Or skip to the end to see the list of all 174 neighborhoods ranked from worst to best.

This list is a scientific analysis based on real data and is completely unbiased. Hold on to your pants.

The 'hoods around Milwaukee that are really hoods

Well there you have it -- the worst of the neighborhoods in Milwaukee with Metcalfe Park landing at the bottom of the pack.

As we mentioned earlier, the neighborhoods in Milwaukee aren't all bad. Downer Woods takes the cake as the best place to live in Milwaukee.

We ranked the neighborhoods from worst to best in the chart below.

For more Wisconsin reading, check out:

Where Are The Worst Neighborhoods To Live In Milwaukee For 2021?

RankNeighborhoodPopulationHome ValueMedian Income
1Metcalfe Park2,673$53,175$22,064
2Triangle North1,563$72,660$24,584
3Halyard Park616$70,650$24,730
4North Division6,023$45,575$22,031
5Hillside1,622$23,633$18,505
6Williamsburg2,641$71,980$24,766
7Garden Homes3,016$35,140$27,673
8Clock Tower Acres881$50,467$26,556
9Park West6,270$51,536$21,585
10King Park2,146$45,840$20,025
11Fairfield2,622$71,580$30,280
12Old North Milwaukee11,494$61,000$27,024
13Borchert Field3,405$53,950$25,183
14Midtown6,807$62,338$26,767
15Harambee12,435$53,462$19,812
16Havenwoods1,272$68,550$30,000
17Sherman Park6,916$69,841$29,307
18Triangle765$90,050$33,206
19Franklin Heights6,836$48,150$25,840
20Baran Park769$80,300$34,879
21Walnut Hill2,343$57,575$29,564
22Roosevelt Grove5,709$75,755$29,979
23Menomonee River Valley2,476$70,386$30,915
24Washington Park4,448$63,050$25,323
25Arlington Heights4,414$54,483$23,732
26Martin Drive1,503$90,550$27,296
27Town And Country Manor1,527$112,933$36,243
28Northridge Lakes2,203$46,700$23,200
29Merrill Park2,966$61,083$20,177
30Walker's Point7,065$77,077$28,660
31Graceland2,327$83,350$36,042
32Mcgovern Park3,643$66,617$33,811
33Concordia3,128$84,500$25,198
34Lincoln Park5,267$83,757$32,614
35North Meadows2,099$138,650$27,050
36Cold Spring Park2,142$78,900$19,488
37Estabrook Park747$120,800$28,672
38Dineen Park4,010$94,220$33,841
39Wahl Park2,621$73,867$33,543
40Rufus King4,145$85,414$32,002
41Park View566$80,700$24,250
42Valhalla3,872$57,625$34,173
43Saint Joseph6,020$105,862$35,368
44Lincoln Creek7,301$81,833$34,958
45Holler Park532$108,300$43,235
46Clarke Square6,852$75,450$23,453
47Silver Spring12,433$74,220$34,350
48Granville Station1,898$89,067$47,130
49Southgate2,717$97,500$39,300
50Tripoli Park522$129,100$45,050
51Historic Mitchell Street11,308$54,827$25,922
52Brynwood1,291$53,000$30,193
53Whispering Hills251$62,500$31,815
54Thurston Woods3,656$81,020$31,541
55Maple Tree1,184$165,200$40,313
56Servite Woods896$71,800$42,212
57Lenox Heights1,912$113,060$33,302
58Miller Valley1,504$137,233$46,292
59Grasslyn Manor4,848$98,610$37,987
60Wyrick Park1,601$109,700$36,686
61Menomonee River Hills East3,348$98,325$40,500
62Avenues West8,847$23,169$20,784
63Freedom Village210$62,500$31,815
64Hampton Heights7,560$80,343$35,298
65Silver Swan3,615$92,050$34,114
66Lincoln Village11,856$80,158$27,275
67Muskego Way11,525$73,608$26,522
68Uptown6,605$105,246$37,542
69Kilbourn Town4,159$64,200$45,010
70Brown Deer Park1,282$129,100$45,050
71Forest Home Hills5,977$96,817$31,816
72North Granville2,208$138,650$27,046
73Riverton Heights546$138,100$61,848
74Land Bank2,251$91,933$40,871
75Sunset Heights4,421$105,086$39,151
76Capitol Heights6,588$95,673$49,878
77National Park2,253$88,075$31,852
78Granville Woods342$62,500$31,815
79Timmerman West5,211$110,350$38,872
80Vogel Park2,497$89,400$48,283
81Bradley Estates1,809$104,167$53,964
82Long View3,079$86,575$50,016
83Melody View159$151,000$50,208
84Grantosa1,856$97,150$37,458
85Silver City4,535$90,160$33,498
86Mitchell West3,641$104,475$37,754
87Fair Park1,185$125,000$42,723
88Polonia5,992$110,538$36,874
89Little Menomonee Parkway1,043$117,700$43,218
90Arlington Gardens2,466$113,175$39,826
91Jones' Island557$141,400$44,868
92Columbus Park4,203$100,450$41,796
93Calumet Farms1,256$230,400$55,938
94Timmerman Airport614$89,400$53,125
95Mount Olivet785$147,800$30,733
96Parkway Hills967$110,900$36,420
97Wilson Park3,750$109,150$31,320
98Southpoint3,418$123,550$43,366
99Zoo604$134,600$43,781
100Historic Third Ward1,052$129,250$84,391
101The Valley-Pigsville407$153,700$57,860
102Morgandale8,624$122,060$46,705
103Story Hill1,814$132,350$50,608
104Lindsay Park4,956$108,520$38,162
105Saint Amelian's1,622$101,150$40,778
106Layton Park9,252$104,875$41,539
107Burnham Park8,504$93,256$39,637
108Heritage Heights1,905$165,200$40,313
109Pollber Heights110$151,000$50,208
110Brewer's Hill2,227$142,800$48,704
111Menomonee River Parkway359$131,300$50,938
112Menomonee River Hills8,811$112,650$46,088
113Enderis Park3,238$129,117$42,110
114Park Knoll701$145,750$55,972
115Johnson's Woods2,980$118,050$45,000
116Root Creek2,038$132,800$46,307
117Park Place1,268$230,400$55,938
118Florist Highlands1,302$150,750$50,590
119Honey Creek Parkway825$135,800$51,484
120Saveland Park1,121$135,100$56,790
121Pheasant Run1,624$129,100$52,500
122New Coeln90$137,500$63,839
123Bluemound Heights3,590$119,214$46,598
124Maitland Park822$149,800$58,898
125Harbor View1,183$150,267$50,644
126Castle Manor3,632$142,620$42,218
127Nash Park2,310$110,567$47,679
128Jackson Park7,407$139,318$50,335
129Hawley Farms1,695$126,133$44,212
130Wick Field614$150,400$49,167
131Hawthorne Glen254$150,400$49,167
132Riverwest12,197$143,569$43,872
133White Manor1,536$133,833$54,057
134Alverno1,059$155,000$38,571
135Mitchell Field1,752$145,250$58,649
136Cambridge Heights2,331$172,620$36,397
137Cannon Park2,203$139,050$51,344
138Lyons Park1,827$133,100$53,157
139Town Of Lake5,450$144,167$55,016
140Mill Valley899$134,500$66,250
141Green Moor510$145,200$56,719
142Kops Park3,156$122,175$56,854
143Riverside Park2,524$222,733$34,597
144Murray Hill4,008$224,875$49,929
145Honey Creek Manor3,014$130,375$41,129
146Morgan Heights1,723$163,400$66,739
147Valley Forge198$185,500$54,318
148Fairview3,930$129,357$58,151
149Juneau Town5,521$225,017$59,091
150West View1,761$130,800$49,688
151Woodland Court658$150,800$55,123
152Golden Valley2,774$137,750$62,387
153Cooper Park3,369$144,433$59,550
154Tippecanoe6,261$144,789$57,484
155Yankee Hill3,352$281,714$38,110
156Clayton Crest2,006$159,150$55,852
157Alcott Park1,764$163,400$66,739
158Gra-Ram2,357$150,133$55,697
159Upper East Side3,297$277,450$59,591
160Mount Mary1,955$145,500$72,966
161Highwood Estates1,951$145,400$39,820
162Lower East Side11,051$228,600$45,767
163River Bend1,402$144,500$63,660
164Goldman Park1,864$152,450$65,040
165Washington Heights7,146$152,300$61,358
166Harder's Oaks511$159,600$57,969
167Euclid Park1,912$165,800$50,111
168Northpoint5,695$257,962$66,314
169Schlitz Park528$222,200$67,569
170Rolling Green1,997$150,800$55,123
171Wedgewood1,774$168,450$66,628
172Red Oak Heights1,086$178,900$64,663
173Fernwood2,709$183,280$62,028
174Downer Woods4,628$319,400$68,167

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Sours: https://www.roadsnacks.net/worst-neighborhoods-in-milwaukee-wi/

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Oh, grandmother, if only you knew, knew my grief, where I am going. It all started at one of the corporate events for the. Employees of the newspaper, where Kostya worked.



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