YAKIMA, Wash. -- Here's one way to gauge whether the city's newest anti-graffiti program might actually work:

Ask one of Yakima's most prolific former taggers.

"I know if I had a light flashing at me and I didn't know who was speaking, I'd be out of there. Fast," says Jakob Lewis, a 22-year-old who finished a ninth-month graffiti sentence earlier this summer.

He's referring to the 18 talking "flash cams" that Yakima police are installing in areas frequently hit by taggers.

At specific hours -- usually at night -- the units' digital cameras detect motion when there shouldn't be any. When movement is sensed, the units issue a loud recorded warning, then snap a picture that can be downloaded later by cops.

So far, the machines have captured two clear images of taggers who were caught off-guard by the flash. One has been identified, and the case has been passed on to a gang unit officer.

"They're a deterrent," says Officer Jaime Gonzalez, who monitors images caught by the cameras. "The effect is -- when they're up and working, people are not tagging. It's not necessarily a device to catch them."

Matt Klaus says he's noticed a significant decline in graffiti in the areas where cameras have been placed.

As the maintenance supervisor for the Committee for Downtown Yakima, he's among the most knowledgeable people in the city on downtown taggers. His job involves cleaning up the messes they leave on public and private property downtown -- along with the cigarette butts, gum and other trash that others leave on sidewalks and streets.

Klaus said word about the cameras has spread fast among the tagging community.

"Taggers know," he said, adding that 85 percent of downtown tagging isn't done by gang members but rather teenagers looking a thrill. "Some of the taggers are leery. They're looking around for the cameras. ... They're not going to be messing around with them."

Yakima Police Department bought 18 of the units earlier this year. The working units cost $6,000 each, but a few are fake and lack a camera. Their mere presence, however, is expected to serve as a deterrent.

Lewis, the former tagger, said he believes the cameras will be effective, but only until taggers find a way around them. The adrenaline rush that comes with tagging a moniker in a public place is too hard for serious taggers to ignore.

"You'd have to put them up in every square inch of the city," he says. "At the time, the rush was the most important thing. The next day there was this feeling I had my piece of artwork for everyone to see."

Gonzalez calls the cameras "another little tool" against taggers. He and other officers are still ironing out criteria for the cameras, such as where to put them and how often to keep them up.

Still, officers have made a pitch to business owners: You buy more cameras, we'll do the monitoring. So far, nobody has taken that offer.

The cameras are among several city attempts to curb tagging.

Citing not enough use for the cost, city officials last year decided to close a graffiti pod reserved for taggers and vandals at the Yakima Juvenile Detention Center. Earlier this year, officials also largely killed off a program that painted over graffiti on private property for free after complaints that volunteers could not keep up with the demand.

What finally deterred Lewis from tagging -- and turned him to more constructive arts -- was his time in jail. Shortly before the arrest that led to nine months at Yakima city jail, there were times when his tag could be seen in as many as 40 downtown spots.

"When I was in jail, I had a lot of time to think," Lewis said. "I don't think I could ever tag illegally again. I have too much to lose if I do it again."

Something else came out of his time in jail: He got to know the cop who arrested him. She's also an artist -- and the two are now painting a mural together.

Now he hopes to find ways to educate taggers about legal ways to do art -- and teach the community about the artistic value in some forms of graffiti.

"I made such a negative impact on what people think of graffiti," said Lewis, who admits to having once spray-painted his moniker on the Yakima Valley Museum. "If I can just get more people to think that I could help turn it around ... I tell my (friends), 'Look what happened to me. You should quit before you go to jail.'"

* Melissa Sánchez can be reached at 509-577-7675 or msanchez@yakimaherald.com.