There's a wonderful passage in Russell Baker's book, "The Good Times," about the New York Times reporter and columnist who got is start scouring the police districts of Baltimore for the Baltimore Sun. It's the 1940s, and Baker is in the Northern District station, trying to convince a lieutenant to give him some information. Baker went over the lieutenant's head.

"'I'm trying to get a report of a shooting, and the lieutenant says he doesn't have it,' I said."

"Inspector Koch spoke to the desk officer, 'Do you have the report?'"

"The lieutenant nodded yes."

"Let me see it."

"The lieutenant reached under the desk, drew out a single piece of paper, and handed it to the inspector. He scanned it quickly, then tossed it back on the desk."

"'Give it to him,' Inspector Koch said.

"The lieutenant started to form a mild objection. 'Are you sure we want it in the paper?'"

"'Give it to him,' the inspector repeated, and then said something to the lieutenant that was wonderfully profound: "'It happened, didn't it?"

I thought of this last night at a meeting of the Mount Vernon-Belvedere Association. Paul Warren, the vice president, was introducing the guests and noted that Central District Sgt. Charles B. Hess was present to give the crime report. Warren then did something that all reporters hate -- he introduced me to the small crowd.

Heads turned and people stared, I'm sure wondering what calamity could have brought a reporter to their humble monthly meeting (I was there, of course, for any updates over a recent shooting outside the Belvedere that stemmed from an argument in a nightclub residents of the building are trying to shut down).

Warren introduced me, and the sergeant, this way: "We can say things have never been worse and get more police patrols or we can say it's better than ever and get some positive press from The Baltimore Sun."

Warren was joking. But Hess, who has been on the force since 1973, already seemed hesitant about me being there. Before the meeting, he promised it would lack any and all excitement and seemed dismayed when I sat down anyway. He started by noting the Mount Vernon and mid-Town Belvedere area are among, if not the, safest neighborhoods in the city.

That was followed by noting a spike in serious crimes -- up from the average of 25 to 30 to 36 (he didn't specify the time period, but I think that's since the last meeting a month earlier. Break-ins to cars are up, he said, a concern for residents and visitors alike.

In the end, any reluctance to talk about crime in front of a reporter was overcome. People demand crime stats but don't want to discuss them beyond the confines of their neighborhood. I understand that, especially in Mount Vernon where the neighborhood's very lifeblood depends on visitors to the bars, theaters and museums. But I also believe that not telling people is worse.

Concentrate on fixing the problem, not the message, and remember the old Inspector Koch. "It happened, didn't it?"