Last night, I spent some time learning about my own neighborhood in South Baltimore. It wasn't exactly an uplifting experience. The commander of the Southern District, Maj. Scott L. Bloodsworth, sat down with a handful of community leaders on a bench in Riverside Park and gave an update on crime in the neighborhood.

As we were chatting, a homeless man whose name is well known in the neighborhood stumbled about under the gazebo. Bearded and dressed in tattered coats, he had his bedding with him but quickly left when he saw the major and the residents.

Bloodsworth said he has repeatedly tried to get the man help, but he refuses all outreach. Police can arrest him, but the detention center won't take him drunk, which means the officer has to take him to a hospital and guard him until he dries out. That takes at least one officer and possibly two off a shift and away from patrol for hours. Not a good use of resources. Calling an ambulance is about the only recourse.

But that too is problematic. As Baltimore Sun reporter Justin Fenton reports today, city officials are trying to curb the number of calls after learning that 10 men and women accounted for more than 500 emergency calls in one year in the city. Finding alternatives ways to help them has reduced the number of 911 calls. The report was written by Baltimore Healthcare Access and the city's fire and health departments.

The man in the park frequents the street I live on, in part because of the many bars. He stumbles around and passes out on sidewalks, prompting paramedics to come and pick him up. One day last month, a police officer came to East Fort and Henry streets and found him and a friend lying in the curb. The officer used his retractable baton to wake them up and get them moving, shouting that they would not get a free stay in a hospital that day.

But an ambulance did arrive and the paramedic said he had to transport. One man climbed in on his own. The other stumbled down Henry Street but fell halfway, and he too was loaded into the ambulance. One paramedic quipped, "I'm going to put a sign on this thing saying taxi service."

Fire Department spokesman Kevin Cartwright, who used to work as medic in Southeast Baltimore, said that a "sick case" is the most common 911 call. "We don't know what it is until we get there," he said. "A sick case can be someone who is shot. A sick case can be someone suffering from a heart attack. A stroke. Or a twisted ankle. We are public servants and though we complain, we have to remember the consequences of not providing medical attention."

In 1995, Robert Wagner died on South Charles Street in Federal Hill, hours after three visits from the same police officer and two from paramedics -- all of whom refused to help him. Paramedics dubbed him a "frequent flier" and left him alone with his bottle of booze and a blanket. He died later that cold January night.

At the meeting in Riveside Park yesterday evening, residents complained that a group of homeless had taken up shelter in a vacant building on East Cross Street, even moving in furniture and harassing patrons of a nearby garage.

Maybe some of the new outreach designed to end frivilous 911 calls will connect the homeless and others in need with existing programs. But what do you do with the people who refuse to be helped? I have a feeling the paramedics in South Baltimore and elsewhere in the city will keep busy with people passed out on the streets.