By continuing to use the site, you agree to our use of cookies and to abide by our Terms and Conditions. We in turn value your personal details in accordance with our Privacy Policy.
Please log in or register. Registered visitors get fewer ads.
Sorry if I like the full story. I’d imagine there was a lot of people arrested before the murderer too. (let’s call him by the correct term)
This post has been edited by an administrator
In my opinion it was at least criminal negligent manslaughter but I wuldn't rule out murder. The (ex) copper has his right to a day in court - unfortunately many US coppers seem to avoid guilty verdicts in what often would appear to you and I to be a cut and dried case but as I said he must have his day in court.
It is far better to grasp the universe as it really is than to persist in delusion, however satisfying and reassuring. - Carl Sagan
0
Has to be charged on 18:09 - May 30 with 1851 views
That is such a difficult video to watch. Hopefully all four of the police officers involved are charged. I find it strange why the names and faces of the other three officers who were fired over this incident are so scarcely shared in the media reporting of the incident.
(I have removed the image of one person in that photo as I cannot be sure he was the fourth person involved). Hopefully the police department release a photo of him when arrested.
That is such a difficult video to watch. Hopefully all four of the police officers involved are charged. I find it strange why the names and faces of the other three officers who were fired over this incident are so scarcely shared in the media reporting of the incident.
(I have removed the image of one person in that photo as I cannot be sure he was the fourth person involved). Hopefully the police department release a photo of him when arrested.
[Post edited 30 May 2020 18:22]
👀
The first ever recipient of a Planet Swans Lifetime Achievement Award.
So it seems the autopsy has found he suffered from heart disease and died of heart failure due to police restraint and not strangulation, the guy also had various substances in his blood, is there footage on how all this started just to see how the police acted as they did, still looks bad mind you, but are we seeing exactly what happened, and why they detained him as they did.
0
Has to be charged on 18:43 - May 30 with 1823 views
So it seems the autopsy has found he suffered from heart disease and died of heart failure due to police restraint and not strangulation, the guy also had various substances in his blood, is there footage on how all this started just to see how the police acted as they did, still looks bad mind you, but are we seeing exactly what happened, and why they detained him as they did.
Where’d you read that Perpy?
The first ever recipient of a Planet Swans Lifetime Achievement Award.
That is such a difficult video to watch. Hopefully all four of the police officers involved are charged. I find it strange why the names and faces of the other three officers who were fired over this incident are so scarcely shared in the media reporting of the incident.
(I have removed the image of one person in that photo as I cannot be sure he was the fourth person involved). Hopefully the police department release a photo of him when arrested.
[Post edited 30 May 2020 18:22]
(I have removed the image of one person in that photo as I cannot be sure he was the fourth person involved). Hopefully the police department release a photo of him when arrested.
I'm sure the people of Minneapolis appreciate it, I hear planet swans is a very popular read there
0
Has to be charged on 19:08 - May 30 with 1782 views
Has to be charged on 19:05 - May 30 by JimmyGilligan
(I have removed the image of one person in that photo as I cannot be sure he was the fourth person involved). Hopefully the police department release a photo of him when arrested.
I'm sure the people of Minneapolis appreciate it, I hear planet swans is a very popular read there
Perhaps some of the residents can browse the forum on any new laptops or computers they have looted.
So it seems the autopsy has found he suffered from heart disease and died of heart failure due to police restraint and not strangulation, the guy also had various substances in his blood, is there footage on how all this started just to see how the police acted as they did, still looks bad mind you, but are we seeing exactly what happened, and why they detained him as they did.
His family is asking for an independent autopsy.
The creatures outside looked from pig to man, and from man to pig, and from pig to man again; but already it was impossible to say which was which.
Long post here I got from FaceAche but it illustrates what it is like to be black in America. Please read it, it’s quite shocking This is a professor, who has the tools to articulate how this encounter affected him. He also has the age and wisdom that allowed for him to maintain his composure and not lose his life. Now, imagine a YOUNG Black person, who is not equip with either.
Steve Locke wrote: "This is what I wore to work today.
On my way to get a burrito before work, I was detained by the police.
I noticed the police car in the public lot behind Centre Street. As I was walking away from my car, the cruiser followed me. I walked down Centre Street and was about to cross over to the burrito place and the officer got out of the car.
“Hey my man,” he said.
He unsnapped the holster of his gun.
I took my hands out of my pockets.
“Yes?” I said.
“Where you coming from?”
“Home.”
Where’s home?”
“Dedham.”
How’d you get here?”
“I drove.”
He was next to me now. Two other police cars pulled up. I was standing in from of the bank across the street from the burrito place. I was going to get lunch before I taught my 1:30 class. There were cops all around me.
I said nothing. I looked at the officer who addressed me. He was white, stocky, bearded.
“You weren’t over there, were you?” He pointed down Centre Street toward Hyde Square.
“No. I came from Dedham.”
“What’s your address?”
I told him.
“We had someone matching your description just try to break into a woman’s house.”
A second police officer stood next to me; white, tall, bearded. Two police cruisers passed and would continue to circle the block for the 35 minutes I was standing across the street from the burrito place.
“You fit the description,” the officer said. “Black male, knit hat, puffy coat. Do you have identification.”
“It’s in my wallet. May I reach into my pocket and get my wallet?”
“Yeah.”
I handed him my license. I told him it did not have my current address. He walked over to a police car. The other cop, taller, wearing sunglasses, told me that I fit the description of someone who broke into a woman’s house. Right down to the knit cap.
Barbara Sullivan made a knit cap for me. She knitted it in pinks and browns and blues and oranges and lime green. No one has a hat like this. It doesn’t fit any description that anyone would have. I looked at the second cop. I clasped my hands in front of me to stop them from shaking.
“For the record,” I said to the second cop, “I’m not a criminal. I’m a college professor.” I was wearing my faculty ID around my neck, clearly visible with my photo.
“You fit the description so we just have to check it out.” The first cop returned and handed me my license.
“We have the victim and we need her to take a look at you to see if you are the person.”
It was at this moment that I knew that I was probably going to die. I am not being dramatic when I say this. I was not going to get into a police car. I was not going to present myself to some victim. I was not going let someone tell the cops that I was not guilty when I already told them that I had nothing to do with any robbery. I was not going to let them take me anywhere because if they did, the chance I was going to be accused of something I did not do rose exponentially. I knew this in my heart. I was not going anywhere with these cops and I was not going to let some white woman decide whether or not I was a criminal, especially after I told them that I was not a criminal. This meant that I was going to resist arrest. This meant that I was not going to let the police put their hands on me.
If you are wondering why people don’t go with the police, I hope this explains it for you.
Something weird happens when you are on the street being detained by the police. People look at you like you are a criminal. The police are detaining you so clearly you must have done something, otherwise they wouldn’t have you. No one made eye contact with me. I was hoping that someone I knew would walk down the street or come out of one of the shops or get off the 39 bus or come out of JP Licks and say to these cops, “That’s Steve Locke. What the F*CK are you detaining him for?”
The cops decided that they would bring the victim to come view me on the street. The asked me to wait. I said nothing. I stood still.
“Thanks for cooperating,” the second cop said. “This is probably nothing, but it’s our job and you do fit the description. 5′ 11″, black male. One-hundred-and-sixty pounds, but you’re a little more than that. Knit hat.”
A little more than 160. Thanks for that, I thought.
An older white woman walked behind me and up to the second cop. She turned and looked at me and then back at him. “You guys sure are busy today.”
I noticed a black woman further down the block. She was small and concerned. She was watching what was going on. I focused on her red coat. I slowed my breathing. I looked at her from time to time.
I thought: Don’t leave, sister. Please don’t leave.
The first cop said, “Where do you teach?”
“Massachusetts College of Art and Design.” I tugged at the lanyard that had my ID.
“How long you been teaching there?”
“Thirteen years.”
We stood in silence for about 10 more minutes.
An unmarked police car pulled up. The first cop went over to talk to the driver. The driver kept looking at me as the cop spoke to him. I looked directly at the driver. He got out of the car.
“I’m Detective Cardoza. I appreciate your cooperation.”
I said nothing.
“I’m sure these officers told you what is going on?”
“They did.”
“Where are you coming from?”
“From my home in Dedham.”
“How did you get here?”
“I drove.”
“Where is your car?”
“It’s in the lot behind Bukhara.” I pointed up Centre Street.
“Okay,” the detective said. “We’re going to let you go. Do you have a car key you can show me?”
“Yes,” I said. “I’m going to reach into my pocket and pull out my car key.”
“Okay.”
I showed him the key to my car.
The cops thanked me for my cooperation. I nodded and turned to go.
“Sorry for screwing up your lunch break,” the second cop said.
I walked back toward my car, away from the burrito place. I saw the woman in red.
“Thank you,” I said to her. “Thank you for staying.”
“Are you ok?” She said. Her small beautiful face was lined with concern.
“Not really. I’m really shook up. And I have to get to work.”
“I knew something was wrong. I was watching the whole thing. The way they are treating us now, you have to watch them. ”
“I’m so grateful you were there. I kept thinking to myself, ‘Don’t leave, sister.’ May I give you a hug?”
“Yes,” she said. She held me as I shook. “Are you sure you are ok?”
“No I’m not. I’m going to have a good cry in my car. I have to go teach.”
“You’re at MassArt. My friend is at MassArt.”
“What’s your name?” She told me. I realized we were Facebook friends. I told her this.
“I’ll check in with you on Facebook,” she said.
I put my head down and walked to my car.
My colleague was in our shared office and she was able to calm me down. I had about 45 minutes until my class began and I had to teach. I forgot the lesson I had planned. I forget the schedule. I couldn’t think about how to do my job. I thought about the fact my word counted for nothing, they didn’t believe that I wasn’t a criminal. They had to find out. My word was not enough for them. My ID was not enough for them. My handmade one-of-a-kind knit hat was an object of suspicion. My Ralph Lauren quilted blazer was only a “puffy coat.” That white woman could just walk up to a cop and talk about me like I was an object for regard. I wanted to go back and spit in their faces. The cops were probably deeply satisfied with how they handled the interaction, how they didn’t escalate the situation, how they were respectful and polite.
I imagined sitting in the back of a police car while a white woman decides if I am a criminal or not. If I looked guilty being detained by the cops imagine how vile I become sitting in a cruiser? I knew I could not let that happen to me. I knew if that were to happen, I would be dead.
Nothing I am, nothing I do, nothing I have means anything because I fit the description.
I had to confess to my students that I was a bit out of it today and I asked them to bear with me. I had to teach.
After class I was supposed to go to the openings for First Friday. I went home."
Long post here I got from FaceAche but it illustrates what it is like to be black in America. Please read it, it’s quite shocking This is a professor, who has the tools to articulate how this encounter affected him. He also has the age and wisdom that allowed for him to maintain his composure and not lose his life. Now, imagine a YOUNG Black person, who is not equip with either.
Steve Locke wrote: "This is what I wore to work today.
On my way to get a burrito before work, I was detained by the police.
I noticed the police car in the public lot behind Centre Street. As I was walking away from my car, the cruiser followed me. I walked down Centre Street and was about to cross over to the burrito place and the officer got out of the car.
“Hey my man,” he said.
He unsnapped the holster of his gun.
I took my hands out of my pockets.
“Yes?” I said.
“Where you coming from?”
“Home.”
Where’s home?”
“Dedham.”
How’d you get here?”
“I drove.”
He was next to me now. Two other police cars pulled up. I was standing in from of the bank across the street from the burrito place. I was going to get lunch before I taught my 1:30 class. There were cops all around me.
I said nothing. I looked at the officer who addressed me. He was white, stocky, bearded.
“You weren’t over there, were you?” He pointed down Centre Street toward Hyde Square.
“No. I came from Dedham.”
“What’s your address?”
I told him.
“We had someone matching your description just try to break into a woman’s house.”
A second police officer stood next to me; white, tall, bearded. Two police cruisers passed and would continue to circle the block for the 35 minutes I was standing across the street from the burrito place.
“You fit the description,” the officer said. “Black male, knit hat, puffy coat. Do you have identification.”
“It’s in my wallet. May I reach into my pocket and get my wallet?”
“Yeah.”
I handed him my license. I told him it did not have my current address. He walked over to a police car. The other cop, taller, wearing sunglasses, told me that I fit the description of someone who broke into a woman’s house. Right down to the knit cap.
Barbara Sullivan made a knit cap for me. She knitted it in pinks and browns and blues and oranges and lime green. No one has a hat like this. It doesn’t fit any description that anyone would have. I looked at the second cop. I clasped my hands in front of me to stop them from shaking.
“For the record,” I said to the second cop, “I’m not a criminal. I’m a college professor.” I was wearing my faculty ID around my neck, clearly visible with my photo.
“You fit the description so we just have to check it out.” The first cop returned and handed me my license.
“We have the victim and we need her to take a look at you to see if you are the person.”
It was at this moment that I knew that I was probably going to die. I am not being dramatic when I say this. I was not going to get into a police car. I was not going to present myself to some victim. I was not going let someone tell the cops that I was not guilty when I already told them that I had nothing to do with any robbery. I was not going to let them take me anywhere because if they did, the chance I was going to be accused of something I did not do rose exponentially. I knew this in my heart. I was not going anywhere with these cops and I was not going to let some white woman decide whether or not I was a criminal, especially after I told them that I was not a criminal. This meant that I was going to resist arrest. This meant that I was not going to let the police put their hands on me.
If you are wondering why people don’t go with the police, I hope this explains it for you.
Something weird happens when you are on the street being detained by the police. People look at you like you are a criminal. The police are detaining you so clearly you must have done something, otherwise they wouldn’t have you. No one made eye contact with me. I was hoping that someone I knew would walk down the street or come out of one of the shops or get off the 39 bus or come out of JP Licks and say to these cops, “That’s Steve Locke. What the F*CK are you detaining him for?”
The cops decided that they would bring the victim to come view me on the street. The asked me to wait. I said nothing. I stood still.
“Thanks for cooperating,” the second cop said. “This is probably nothing, but it’s our job and you do fit the description. 5′ 11″, black male. One-hundred-and-sixty pounds, but you’re a little more than that. Knit hat.”
A little more than 160. Thanks for that, I thought.
An older white woman walked behind me and up to the second cop. She turned and looked at me and then back at him. “You guys sure are busy today.”
I noticed a black woman further down the block. She was small and concerned. She was watching what was going on. I focused on her red coat. I slowed my breathing. I looked at her from time to time.
I thought: Don’t leave, sister. Please don’t leave.
The first cop said, “Where do you teach?”
“Massachusetts College of Art and Design.” I tugged at the lanyard that had my ID.
“How long you been teaching there?”
“Thirteen years.”
We stood in silence for about 10 more minutes.
An unmarked police car pulled up. The first cop went over to talk to the driver. The driver kept looking at me as the cop spoke to him. I looked directly at the driver. He got out of the car.
“I’m Detective Cardoza. I appreciate your cooperation.”
I said nothing.
“I’m sure these officers told you what is going on?”
“They did.”
“Where are you coming from?”
“From my home in Dedham.”
“How did you get here?”
“I drove.”
“Where is your car?”
“It’s in the lot behind Bukhara.” I pointed up Centre Street.
“Okay,” the detective said. “We’re going to let you go. Do you have a car key you can show me?”
“Yes,” I said. “I’m going to reach into my pocket and pull out my car key.”
“Okay.”
I showed him the key to my car.
The cops thanked me for my cooperation. I nodded and turned to go.
“Sorry for screwing up your lunch break,” the second cop said.
I walked back toward my car, away from the burrito place. I saw the woman in red.
“Thank you,” I said to her. “Thank you for staying.”
“Are you ok?” She said. Her small beautiful face was lined with concern.
“Not really. I’m really shook up. And I have to get to work.”
“I knew something was wrong. I was watching the whole thing. The way they are treating us now, you have to watch them. ”
“I’m so grateful you were there. I kept thinking to myself, ‘Don’t leave, sister.’ May I give you a hug?”
“Yes,” she said. She held me as I shook. “Are you sure you are ok?”
“No I’m not. I’m going to have a good cry in my car. I have to go teach.”
“You’re at MassArt. My friend is at MassArt.”
“What’s your name?” She told me. I realized we were Facebook friends. I told her this.
“I’ll check in with you on Facebook,” she said.
I put my head down and walked to my car.
My colleague was in our shared office and she was able to calm me down. I had about 45 minutes until my class began and I had to teach. I forgot the lesson I had planned. I forget the schedule. I couldn’t think about how to do my job. I thought about the fact my word counted for nothing, they didn’t believe that I wasn’t a criminal. They had to find out. My word was not enough for them. My ID was not enough for them. My handmade one-of-a-kind knit hat was an object of suspicion. My Ralph Lauren quilted blazer was only a “puffy coat.” That white woman could just walk up to a cop and talk about me like I was an object for regard. I wanted to go back and spit in their faces. The cops were probably deeply satisfied with how they handled the interaction, how they didn’t escalate the situation, how they were respectful and polite.
I imagined sitting in the back of a police car while a white woman decides if I am a criminal or not. If I looked guilty being detained by the cops imagine how vile I become sitting in a cruiser? I knew I could not let that happen to me. I knew if that were to happen, I would be dead.
Nothing I am, nothing I do, nothing I have means anything because I fit the description.
I had to confess to my students that I was a bit out of it today and I asked them to bear with me. I had to teach.
After class I was supposed to go to the openings for First Friday. I went home."
~Steve Locke
I remember back in the 1970's, I was young and single and been drinking with mates in Port Talbot, it was a week day and I had work in the morning and had missed the last bus and didn't have enough cash for a taxi so I walked home along the A48. Actually being young and fit at the time I ran most of the way.
I had almost reached the turning up past St.Catherine's church, probably about 500m from that turning when a police car pulled along side me and had me stop.
The cop told me a very similar story to the above and had me get in the car and took me back in his car almost all the way back to Port Talbot.
After talking to some woman about me he finally told me I wasn't the one, the witness did not recognise me, so he let me go. Had to effing walk the entire route again.
What the above post points out is the fear and distrust in the police rather than being racially targetted by them in that particular case. Although the original accuser may have been recially driven.
There was that case in New York recently where a woman phoned 911 and accused a black man of threatening to murder her, when the encounter was fully filmed and all he asked her to do was put her dog on its lead. The original uccuser in this case could have just seen a black man in her neighbourhood doing nothing.
The police in America do overreact and with good cause, the amount of guns around there means their life could be on the line at any time. The majority of innocent people feel oppressed when they are treated as if they are about to pull a gun, but to the cop at any time someone could and just saying your innocent doesn't mean your innocent, its what every criminal would say.
There is evidence though that they do overreact more to black people than white which where the distrust comes from..
Groo does what Groo does best
0
Has to be charged on 18:28 - May 31 with 1501 views
Ive just been reading about it,if that autopsy proves correct his defence are getting him off murder.
Especially if the independent Autopsy produces the same results, i would still like to see any footage of what happened before the cop decided to hold him down like that, maybe there is more to it than what were seeing, the guy could have been acting like a complete psycho for all we know seeing as he was full of drugs, that's if the Autopsy is true of course.
0
Has to be charged on 18:45 - May 31 with 1485 views
I remember back in the 1970's, I was young and single and been drinking with mates in Port Talbot, it was a week day and I had work in the morning and had missed the last bus and didn't have enough cash for a taxi so I walked home along the A48. Actually being young and fit at the time I ran most of the way.
I had almost reached the turning up past St.Catherine's church, probably about 500m from that turning when a police car pulled along side me and had me stop.
The cop told me a very similar story to the above and had me get in the car and took me back in his car almost all the way back to Port Talbot.
After talking to some woman about me he finally told me I wasn't the one, the witness did not recognise me, so he let me go. Had to effing walk the entire route again.
What the above post points out is the fear and distrust in the police rather than being racially targetted by them in that particular case. Although the original accuser may have been recially driven.
There was that case in New York recently where a woman phoned 911 and accused a black man of threatening to murder her, when the encounter was fully filmed and all he asked her to do was put her dog on its lead. The original uccuser in this case could have just seen a black man in her neighbourhood doing nothing.
The police in America do overreact and with good cause, the amount of guns around there means their life could be on the line at any time. The majority of innocent people feel oppressed when they are treated as if they are about to pull a gun, but to the cop at any time someone could and just saying your innocent doesn't mean your innocent, its what every criminal would say.
There is evidence though that they do overreact more to black people than white which where the distrust comes from..
St Catharine’s.
The first ever recipient of a Planet Swans Lifetime Achievement Award.
BREAKING: Independent autopsy finds that George Floyd's death "was homicide caused by asphyxia due to neck and back compression that led to a lack of blood flow to the brain."
BREAKING: Independent autopsy finds that George Floyd's death "was homicide caused by asphyxia due to neck and back compression that led to a lack of blood flow to the brain."
By continuing to use the site, you agree to our use of cookies and to abide by our Terms and Conditions.
