David Kennedy, the nationally recognized criminologist who helped create the methods used in North Carolina and cities across the country, will be a paid consultant. The city has also hired a liaison and a special federal prosecutor. The police chief and others have flown to New York City for training. Police officers are being given copies of Kennedy’s book, “Don’t Shoot.”

What should happen next is a frank discussion about mistruths believed by both the black community and the cops, experts say.

Trust must be earned, and in High Point it took more than a decade to build. The commitment has outlasted one mayor and one police chief. The partnerships will start with hiccups, gnashing of teeth, said Summey.

In Chattanooga, black leaders are already skeptical. Some wonder if the city can deliver the same results as High Point. Programs to curb violence or improve relations have cropped up and withered time and again.

“We watched many in the past hire special people, and this can end up being the same type of thing,” said James Mapp, president of the Chattanooga NAACP, who has been at odds with police practices for decades.

Still, experts say everybody has to be convinced.

“If they don’t believe the cops will help them, then they don’t listen to the police,” said Tracey L. Meares, a professor at Yale University. “They don’t believe in the sanctity of the police.”

A much younger David Kennedy came with a group of researchers from Harvard University to study youth violence in the city, which exploded with the onslaught of crack. The method developed would later be dubbed the Boston Miracle.

By crunching police data, the group found that the violence problem in Boston could be traced back to an unruly few; 1,300 serial offenders — less than 1 percent of youth citywide — were responsible for at least 60 percent of youth homicides in Boston. Later, that finding would ring true for other cities.

“Even in the most violent neighborhoods, only a terrifically small portion is really likely in any way to be violent,” Kennedy said.

Traditional policing focused on troubled areas. Droves of officers saturated rough neighborhoods. Officers stopped and frisked. The community bristled at what felt like profiling.

But what if the officers narrowed their focus to the people they knew pulled the triggers?

Kennedy said the problem wasn’t with whole communities; it wasn’t even with certain streets. That 1 percent needed to become the focus, and that’s what happened in Boston. First, the most violent gang was asked to a meeting where members were told to put down their guns or face the consequences.

And the consequences had to be real, Kennedy said. So police partnered with prosecutors and federal agents to make sure the penalties for those who ignored the warnings were as stiff as they could be. Bureaucratic nonsense was eliminated. Interdepartmental discord was set aside. Cases were prioritized so backlogs wouldn’t delay justice.

The group got smarter about what charges would stick. They employed the strategy used to bring down Chicago gangster Al Capone, who was finally sent to federal prison in 1931, not for murder, but for tax evasion.

First, they made an example of a violent gang member named Freddie Cardoza, who was found possessing a single bullet. He was sentenced to 19 years and seven months in federal prison without parole. Leaflets were sent to the community explaining what happened to Cardoza, that police should be taken seriously.

Through community partners, nonprofits and churches, the police also offered options for the gang members who were willing to change.

“I don’t have anything to apologize for,” said Dodd, who has been chief of police since 2010 and has spent more than 25 years in the department.

Police were doing their job. Some people were thankful for the presence. Criminals were the ones who felt uncomfortable, he said.

Jim Fealy, who was police chief in High Point from 2003 to 2012, said he used to feel like there was nothing he had to apologize for. He had a stellar record, he said. Most of the cops who worked for him were well-intentioned, honest people.

Then Kennedy educated him. He explained to Fealy why the police were policing alone, without the buy-in of the community, why the streets were silent.

Police were afraid of engaging the community about perception because they did not want to unpack decades of baggage from a racist history.

“The vast majority has never been talked about … I was scared to death,” Fealy said.

Police think gangsters are irrational, that the neighbors stopped calling with tips because they lost their moral compass.

In truth, these decisions were made because they had lost faith in the system, Fealy said he learned.

Call shooters into an intervention. Approach drug dealers and tell them they are being watched. Then tell the community what you are doing. Make airtight cases for the real bad guys and put them away. Honestly offer options for the rest. This is the formula for change, Kennedy said.

Many think money and drugs drive murders in the inner city. In reality, only 20 percent are tied to dollars, Kennedy said. The rest are about respect, payback.