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They would move in a solid line doorway to doorway, which were street entrances to apartments upstairs or to still open shops. They would get the doors open one way or another and some of the cops would go upstairs. People would get bundled out and taken to a nearby paddy-wagon behind the lines. Then they would move all in a line to the second doorway and do the same thing.
At another time maybe a month earlier I was coming home, and I saw two men at the front door of my rooming house. I thought plain clothes cops - keep going. But curiosity got the better of me. So I went up the stairs. "Do you live here?" "Yes." "Let us in," one of them said. I opened the door and they asked me if they could search my room. I said sure. But first they knocked on another door in the hallway. No answer. They searched my room. They were undercover drug cops. I did not do drugs at that time so I did not care. It was an experience for me. They asked me a few mundane questions, but they were not interested in me. I was curious to feel the vibes of these guys, as they more or less illegally searched my room, poking around in what was none of their business. When they were done they said, if you see the guy across the hall, tell him, "If he doesn't stop selling bad drugs he is going to get killed". So apparently they knew he was a dealer and which room was his. Then they left.
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