City leaders keep telling us that crime is down. That perception is the problem. That safety is trending in the right direction.
But if you walk through Deep Ellum, especially after dark, the numbers tell a different story, and so do the business owners, residents, and visitors who’ve been sounding the alarm for months.
According to a recent DPD report presented to the city’s oversight board, property crimes in Deep Ellum doubled in June, and “crimes against society”, including drugs, prostitution, and weapons violations, are up nearly 97% year-to-date. Let that sink in. Nearly double the societal crimes. In one of the city’s most important cultural and economic districts.
It’s not just the numbers that are alarming, it’s the fact that they’re being ignored. For years, Deep Ellum was a case study in revitalization. Murals. Music venues. Startups. Nightlife. New development. But now, it’s becoming something else entirely: a place where families hesitate to go, where small businesses are spending thousands on private security, and where the promise of progress is being undermined by street-level lawlessness.
The city wants to treat this like a PR problem. But it’s a public safety problem. And it’s not going to be solved with another press conference or performance art initiative.
If Dallas can’t protect Deep Ellum, one of its most high-profile and heavily policed districts, what hope is there for the neighborhoods that aren’t near downtown, don’t have a business alliance, and can’t afford off-duty officers?
The truth is, the system is stretched thin. DPD is still hundreds of officers short of what voters approved in Prop U. Many beats are understaffed. Response times are slow. And without real consequences for repeat offenders, the message being sent is clear: you can get away with a lot in Dallas right now.
But here’s the other part no one wants to say out loud: we’re normalizing chaos. The flashing lights. The noise. The broken windows and early morning crime tape. It’s becoming part of the city’s background noise, and that’s dangerous.
Because when residents and visitors get used to dysfunction, they stop reporting it. When businesses build their own security networks, they stop trusting the city to step in. And when crime feels inevitable, people stop expecting anything better.
Deep Ellum isn’t just a nightlife district. It’s a reflection of how serious Dallas really is, or isn’t, about public safety. And based on this year’s numbers, it’s clear the city isn’t taking that responsibility seriously enough.
We don’t need more speeches. We need enforcement. We need presence. And we need leadership that doesn’t hide behind averages when entire blocks are in decline.
This isn’t about fear-mongering. It’s about restoring order. Because when you let a place like Deep Ellum spiral, you’re not just losing a neighborhood, you’re losing trust in the entire city.
