Update as of 4/20/21: The jury has rendered its verdict. In our legal system, unless a court finds reversible error or there is a gross miscarriage of justice, that verdict should be accepted.
Officer Chauvin, I am sorry for rushing to judgment. Like the rest of America I recoiled in horror as I watched the video taken by a bystander of you with your knee on the back of Mr. Floyd’s neck. He died in front of us. It was brutal to watch. And like the rest of America, I jumped to conclusions based on information I didn’t have.
I didn’t know what led up to those last moments. I didn’t know that Mr. Floyd had been out of his mind, incoherent, sweating profusely, not making any sense, struggling, resisting, kicking. He complained he couldn’t breathe while he was standing up outside the patrol car, and also inside the patrol car. But he was able to keep talking without any difficulty whatsoever.
I didn’t know that Mr. Floyd, as the toxicology report would show, had in his blood more than three times the level of fentanyl known to cause death. The toxicologist also found meth and morphine in Mr. Floyd’s blood. I hadn’t known that.
I didn’t know that Mr. Floyd did not die of asphyxiation. Your neck on his knee–he must have suffocated him, is what I and tens of millions believed. But we didn’t know that the autopsy would find there was no injury to his neck. His windpipe had not been constricted, there were no bruises, no sign that his carotid artery had been impinged and his brain denied blood.
I didn’t know, until I read the autopsy, that Mr. Floyd was a very, very sick man, with a terribly bad heart weakened further by a recent attack from the COVID-19 virus.
I didn’t know that there were no life threatening injuries that could explain his death. In other words, I didn’t know that there is no physical evidence that anything you did stopped his heart from beating.
I didn’t know that the officers on the scene had called for an ambulance not once, but twice, requesting that it hurry with lights flashing and siren wailing. I didn’t know that you and the other officers wanted the ambulance because you were concerned Mr. Floyd was suffering excited delirium. Even when I heard this discussion on the officers’ tape recordings, I didn’t know until I looked into it that excited delirium can be fatal, and it kills by a sudden stopping of the heart. I know now that Mr. Floyd’s behavior fit precisely the symptoms of this fatal, drug-induced syndrome.
I didn’t know that your putting a knee on the back of his neck was precisely what you and other Minneapolis police officers had been trained to do to restrain someone showing the signs of excited delirium. You were taught to do this to prevent such a person from harming himself and others and to secure him until the ambulance arrived. The page from your training manual, reproduced at the top of this article, shows you were doing exactly what you had been instructed to do. Placing a knee on the back of the neck is taught as a way to hold someone undergoing Mr. Floyd’s distress and alleviate the risk of asphyxiation.
I didn’t know that there is no reported instance of the method you used to restrain Mr. Floyd having caused death in any other case. I didn’t know that this method of restraint had been reviewed and approved by physicians before becoming part of your training manual.
I have previously said that, when I described Mr. Floyd as a good man in another article, I hadn’t known of his long criminal record, and that he had led a violent home invasion. I didn’t know he had disguised himself as a utility worker to gain entrance into the home then shoved a handgun in a woman’s stomach, and ransacked the house while the woman and her friend screamed as they were being viciously beaten.
I corrected myself then. I want now to correct myself for ever saying you were “a bad apple,” or things like “just because one policeman acted wrongly doesn’t mean we judge others by his misconduct.” With what I know now, from watching all those body cams, the interview of Officer Thao, listening to and reading the transcripts of the audio recordings, and the official autopsy and full toxicology report–I can’t see where you did anything wrong.
I didn’t even realize until last week that the autopsy does not use the word homicide. It does not declare a cause of death but is entitled “cardiopulmonary arrest complicating law enforcement subdual, restraint and neck compression.”
I had to read that case title twice to understand. It does not say that the actions of law enforcement officers caused cardiopulmonary arrest. Cardiopulmonary arrest is what complicated the way Mr. Floyd was held under control. The autopsy found Mr. Floyd had severe arteriosclerosis and hypertensive heart disease. He had ingested drugs in potentially lethal quantities that stress the heart tremendously. His heart stopped. That is what killed him.
Now that I know better, now that I have actual facts instead of my imagination to fill in the blank spaces, when I watch again the horrible video of Mr. Floyd on the ground and hear him saying, “I can’t breathe,” I realize he is exhibiting no trouble breathing. He is talking the whole time. At no point does he gasp or gulp for air. And now I know that it was Mr. Floyd who asked to lay on the ground when he wanted out of the patrol car, not that you dragged him to the ground for no reason. And I know that he suffered no physical injuries from your actions that in any way jeopardized his life.
I study the video closely and force myself to calm my emotions: it does not appear you ever put your full weight into the knee upon the back of Mr. Floyd’s neck. If you were trying to kill him, as is alleged, you would have tried a lot harder.
I know you will get a trial, but how could anyone be sure it will be a fair trial? So much of the nation instantly hated you–because we didn’t know, well, anything really. We recoiled in horror at a scene police officers and EMTs see far too often in this nation. We can’t relate one bit to having to hold onto someone suffering fentanyl, meth and morphine induced mania, let alone someone weighing over 300 pounds and standing six feet seven inches tall. We don’t put ourselves in the position of trying to arrest or help people like Mr. Floyd. We leave those people and their problems to you. Then from the comfort of our living room couch we judge you with all the time in the world to criticize every step you took under the pressure of the moment.
Our rush to judgment — based on our feelings in watching just a fraction of the encounter — was more about us than anything you did.
I know now that the evidence shows you are innocent of the charge of intentionally killing Mr. Floyd. I know now that the evidence shows you did not negligently cause his death. You and the other officers are going to be acquitted, but only after you have survived prison until March 2021 or later. You’ll be released, but you’ll never get your life back. Just like the officer in the Ferguson case, instantly reviled, but never guilty of anything. Three separate investigations found he had acted in self-defense against repeated attacks from a larger, more powerful Michael Brown who had tried to seize that officer’s weapon. The last two of those investigations were led by liberal, progressive Black prosecutors, including President Obama’s attorney general.
Though that officer was completely cleared of wrongdoing, he and his family remain in hiding and will probably spend decades fearing for their lives….
…because he did his job, just as you did yours.
Officer Chauvin, I am so very, very sorry.
[For the information upon which this apology is based, please see the following:
I had scooted across 19th Street, going north on Landes after leaving the Safeway. When I got to the other side my front tires dropped, the road came up, and I was scraping the bottom of my car across the blacktop.
Landes at 19th
Landes Street
Landes Street
I disembarked to inspect for damage. That plastic part below the bumper was cracked. I didn’t see oil leaking. But I did see a road that looked like it had been paved by Jackson Pollock–the artist who had a laugh at the world making millions by splashing paint onto big canvases. Somehow he must have gotten the contract for applying tar to Landes Street. It has so many chaotic patches it looks like a gigantic abstract composition.
Cinema verite, too. This could be a multi-media production. I can’t imagine how shaky a hand-held video would be driving along these blocks. Potholes, rivets, ridges, gullies, and just failed paving make for one bumpy, jolting ride. It goes on for blocks.
After that day I started paying attention and realized failing streets are everywhere!
How did the maintenance of our streets fall so far behind? I had always thought that providing transportation infrastructure, a fancy phrase for city streets, was a basic service of a municipal corporation. Prior generations of city leaders laid out our street plan and upgraded them from dirt horse tracks with all the things that go into constructing a modern means for automobiles on rubber tires to move about. All that critical work, surveying, grading, compaction, base course and chip seal (I Googled road building) was done years ago. The current state of our streets looks like we’re having trouble hanging onto a tattered inheritance.
I thought Landes was bad. Then I went to visit a friend who told me to take Center Street to get across the valley. I took a right off San Juan and stopped. Maybe I’m now obsessed. But the deterioration of this residential street made me get out with my camera and walk. It gets worse and worse as you start climbing to Redwood, block-long sections of pavement barely held together by ugly, misshapen and sloppy splotches of cracked tar. And more than a few legitimate potholes.
That photo at the top of this story is Center Street, as is the one to the left and these, as well.
I got back in my car and rattled along until I got to Redwood. But this jolting journey isn’t over. I will be sharing more photos from around our town showing just how bad things really are.
I’m no highway engineer, but I’ve been told, and it’s common sense, that when roads are neglected like ours are they only get worse and worse. Prolific and poorly applied patching is less than a temporary band aid. It may actually contribute to accelerating the deterioration with the freeze-and-thaw cycle and rain getting into and under what was once a uniform asphalt surface.
You roll and rock along the same streets as I but maybe don’t get out and snap photos. What’s that lady doing stopping in front of the house again, taking more pictures of potholes? Don’t worry, that’s just sweet Z and her trusty Nikon.
I’m sending my work to Port Townsend Free Press in the hope it gets attention and encourages action. I observed that the editor teased my forthcoming stories on their Facebook page and used a couple photos I took of decaying, deteriorating, degenerating, dearly beloved Discovery Road. A couple weeks later the city announced it was seeking federal funding to do something about that grand boulevard. But first they will put in a bike lane on broken pavement. I guess that’s our PT Vibe applied to the art of road maintenance.
On Friday, July 24th the citizens and businesses of Seattle were told by their police chief Carmen Best that because of Seattle City Council decisions, they would be without law enforcement protection if a peaceful protest/riot occurred in their neighborhood.
“City Council Ordinance 119805 Crowd Control Tool goes into effect this weekend on Sunday, July 26th, 2020,: Chief Best told the city. “This ordinance bans Seattle Police officers the use of less lethal tools, including pepper spray, that is commonly used to disperse crowds that have turned violent. Simply put the legislation gives officers NO ability to safely intercede to preserve property in the midst of a large violent crowd.”
If you remember news reports from the “peaceful” protest held the following Sunday, several construction trailers at the site of soon-to-be-built youth justice center were torched by arsonists, a Starbucks was smashed and looted, a neighborhood was trashed.
Are we laying out an open invitation for the same to happen here as the Port Townsend City Council rushes to virtue signal to the mob in their efforts to defund our already bare bones police force?
The media tells us that these “Mostly Peaceful Protests” are either in support of Black Lives Matters, in opposition to the oppression of federal law enforcement, or possibly, a new uprising against generations of systematic racism.
What more than a few of the “protesters”have said during interviews with the handful of journalists brave enough to wade into the fray is very clear: “We need to burn the whole thing down”
I have heard this phrase repeated many times in the video feeds that have allowed all of us to witness this national catastrophe as it has unfolded in Democrat run cities across our county.
While searching for answers I came across this observation:
Critical race theory’s adherents appear to believe that the only way to fix societal injustice is to burn everything down and start over.
Critical race theory emerged from academia in the 1980’s, has its roots in Marxism, and is defined by Encyclopedia Britannica thusly:
Law and legal institutions are inherently racist and race itself, instead of being biologically grounded and natural, is a socially constructed concept that is used by white people to further their economic and political interests at the expense of people of color.
These peaceful protesters that want to burn everything down are not fighting for equal justice under the law or freedom of the individual from an oppressive government. They have been educated to believe that everything we have today needs to be destroyed so that their vision of what our country should be–and that would be a country completely under their control–can be built upon the ashes. They are speaking the language of Cultural Revolution.
“Cultural Revolutions are insidious and not just because they seek to change the way people think, write, speak and act. They are also dangerous because they are fueled by self-righteous sanctimoniousness, expressed in seemingly innocuous terms such as “social activism”, “equality” and “fairness”. The ultimate aim of the Jacobin, Bolshevik, or Maoist is raw power – force of the sort sought by Hugo Chavez or the Castro Dynasty to get rich, inflict payback on their perceived enemies, reward friends, and be perceived as saviors. Cubans and Venezuelans got poor and killed; Woke Chavezes and Castros got rich and murderous.” Victor Davis Hansen, amgreatness.com, July 19, 2020
When a mob, a movement–a cultural revolution–is telling us what they want, we need to believe them.
[Editor’s note: Carmen Best, Seattle’s first Black police chief, resigned 8/11/20. The Seattle Council resolution prohibiting police from using non-lethal crowd control tools was temporarily enjoined by a Federal court and is in litigation. Crime of all kinds, from murder to vandalism to sexual assaults, is soaring in Seattle at the same time that City Council has unanimously voted to cut the police force in half and disband key crime prevention units, such as the Navigation Teams that brought the chronically homeless population in contact with social services and cleared out homeless encampments posing dangers to occupants and neighbors.]
Fortunately COVID-19 has not killed anyone in Jefferson County, but addiction sure has. We don’t really need the CDC to validate those numbers. But they have: more young people have died of drug overdoses and suicides since this pandemic began than of COVID-19. For as long as I can remember that’s been the story in Port Townsend, too. People have been dying of drug overdoses, car crashes, or suicides, a reality that has only gotten worse and more pronounced.
Addiction comes only to steal, kill, and destroy. Those who get caught up in it don’t just hurt themselves, they destroy the lives of all around them. Children lose their parents, parents lose their children. There is more than enough misery to go around, so much suffering that it is often generational, this inheritance of grief, despair, and dysfunction that gets inflicted on the next generation.
It’s an invisible epidemic in the sense that nobody really wants to talk about it. Our local political leadership speaks in vague innuendos about “the homeless” or “mental health issues.” We all care so, so much about those protected classes but not enough to actually diagnose the problem properly and to name it for what it is. And certainly not enough to declare it the public health emergency it really is.
It’s a vicious cycle: our depressed economy, lack of good jobs, lack of housing, lack of political leadership, lack of opportunities, and a pro-drug culture make breaking the addiction cycle even more challenging. It’s a multi-faceted problem. Limited economic opportunities often lead people to resort to selling drugs. An inability to find a future and hope in life often leads to using them.
Addicts are not victims. In fact, blaming everything but them probably helps fuel addiction, too. I am just saying it really is a community-wide disease, requiring a community-wide response, and one of the hardest things for me has been accepting that we just haven’t got the will or the desire to address it collectively. You can’t just blame individuals for their poor choices. We all create the fertile environment that produces these kinds of social issues. Addiction is a symptom; it is not the cause of the disease.
Politically, we often have a tendency to just make everything worse. We seem to diagnose the problem wrong, prescribe the wrong solution, and then throw open the barn doors. I watched Port Townsend become a hot spot for “homeless tourism.” Our leaders are full of compassion for these people, and yet give no thought whatsoever to the fact that our children here are somewhat vulnerable–either naive and sheltered, or at-risk youth–and that the professional homeless are not all just people pursuing an “alternative lifestyle,” but often, actual addicts who support themselves by selling meth and heroin.
The opioid epidemic, the sudden availability of insurance and healthcare, and the ease with which people could get either prescriptions or street drugs also fueled the problem.
I was really sad and yet so very grateful when the Boiler Room saw fit to shut itself down. I watched heroin and meth sweep through this town and I watched young person after young person get caught up in it.
There is help available. There are people who care. We have drug courts and treatment options and a thriving recovery community. But we don’t have a collective community-wide response, a strong political will, and a willingness to name this epidemic for what it is and to say “no.” Not another life.
I have a sister out there on the streets using, a daughter in recovery, and a good 40 years of just watching friend after friend play the revolving-door-game-of addiction, the hospital, jail, and all those 2 am phone calls until one day they just weren’t there anymore. But what I really have is this simmering rage, this deep seated resentment towards a community that cares more about it’s political ideologies than it does about its people, and this keen awareness that no, not all lives matter at all.
The following letter was hand-delivered late last week to the Jefferson County Sheriff’s Office. The writer indicates it was also delivered to Port Townsend’s Chief of Police. We obtained this letter from a member of the law enforcement community.
Good morning,
I have written what has been on my mind. I have written it to get my thoughts out so | don’t have to dwell on them all the time. I wrote it as an anonymous person and give you full permission to share with whoever you feel could benefit from reading it. I don’t know if you or anyone else will agree with my writings but it makes me feel better to put it out there. Share it or shred it, it’s totally up to you. Please only share it if you think it will make a difference. It won’t hurt my feelings if you don’t. My hope is that if you do find it useful you can get it into the hands of those who make decisions for public safety. Commissioners, board members, whoever could benefit from hearing a different opinion. I have left one copy with the Sheriff and one with the Chief of Police in Port Townsend.
Thank you
To anyone who will listen,
During these last few weeks I have found myself heartbroken and frustrated. Doing a hard job that I worked so hard to get is now demonized and perceived by many as unnecessary. I get the impression that the loudest of people are fighting to be judged as individuals and not by class, color, sex, etc. I can agree with this however it seems that the narrative includes all but those who choose to serve and protect. It appears as though some people have forgotten that we too are people from communities just like theirs. Everyone deserves to be judged as an individual based on their character and their actions. Everyone.
As I hear about racism and brutality I think hard about examples that I have seen. I have worked for two departments and with dozens of different officers/deputies. I have seen so many different situations and seen the best and worst of people in our community. What I have not seen is what is being portrayed by the media. No evil cops. No racism, no brutality. Only men and woman in uniform dealing with situations that they have been called to handle. Why is it that all who wear the badge must be shamed and ridiculed for the acts of a few? Does the act of one bad officer outweigh the acts of those who are good at their job? And do people know what that job is? Do people think our job consists only of what they see in the news or in movies? Do people even care to know? How many have taken the opportunity to ride with an officer?
Defund the Police. Who will replace us? Who is going to check on Grandma when you haven’t heard from her in a few days and you live in another state? Who is going to summon aid when she is found alive and injured? Who is going to investigate when she is not? Who is going to take the photos and document? Who is going to live with those images of death and decay? Who is going to tell the loved ones that she has left this world? Who is going to give them comfort in that moment when their world has changed? Who is going to look for your toddler who wandered away? Who is going to search miles of roadway when you are entrapped in an upside-down vehicle? Who is going to stop the bleeding until aid arrives? Who is going to search for the drunk driver who put you there? Who is going to stop that drunk driver before he runs into you? Who is going to interview that child who has lost their innocence to true evil? Who is going to live with that child’s story playing over and over in their mind? Who is going to do have the courage to complete this task again and again? Who is going to search for the Alzheimer’s patient who went for a walk in a winter’s night? Who is going to come when there is a bump in the night? Who is going to light up the darkness when you fear what lurks in it? Who is always going to be ready to help you?
I often remind people when I respond to a certain house or neighborhood that I was called to be there. There is likely a million other things I would rather be doing but someone asked for help and it is my job to serve. And when I am on patrol and not responding to a specific call I find myself like many others, spending time in certain neighborhoods. It is not because I have a prejudice towards anyone. It is purely because the best part of my job is preventing a situation before it starts. When you have been called to the same house or the same neighborhood dozens of times you feel the need to give it more attention. It is not because of the bad people in that particular neighborhood. It is because of the good people in that neighborhood who deserve our attention and deserve to feel safe.
With the badge that some of us pin on in the morning comes an accepted risk. This risk is outweighed by the pride that comes with knowing you stand between what is right and what is wrong. Protecting those who cannot protect themselves. A criminal accepts a certain amount of risk as well. This risk is outweighed by the possible gains taken from others with the least amount of work. A selfish choice to take from others so that they need not work for it themselves. This choice can take property. This choice can cause physical pain. This choice can cause mental pain. This choice can take innocence. This choice can take lives. This choice can destroy communities. This choice can destroy futures.
The risk associated with both paths are accepted on both sides. It seems that those who see it from a distance can have a difficult time processing this. Does an officer need to be shot to shoot? Do we need to be bloodied to fight back? Are our lives valued less because we choose to wear the badge? Is it an acceptable loss for you because we signed up for it? What about the criminal who also signed up for it? Do our families deserve to have us come home any less than those whose family member chose a different calling?
De-escalation is in everything we do. An officer does not go a day without de-escalation. It’s pure and simple. A million officers and millions of contacts with the public. Rarely do people call when they are at their best. Whatever situation they have been dealing with has escalated to the point of calling 911. De-escalation works. We know it and we get trained to do it. But the unfortunate fact is that it doesn’t always work. People can’t always accept reason. Mental health and substance abuse can cause this disconnect. De-escalation works until it doesn’t.
Violence and instinct. I can only think of few professions that require as much violence and instinct as law enforcement. In a moment’s notice a calm situation can turn to chaos. I have had people try to bite me, spit on me, swing at me. How do I describe the feelings you get when a 6’6 man who is spun up on meth decides he wants to slam his head into yours? The same man who just left his victim bloodied moments before, and you were somehow able to sneak him into handcuffs before anyone else got hurt. A split second does not allow you to think about that man’s skin color, sexual orientation, or political views. It only allows you the time to protect yourself or receive what is coming. Violence has many levels. Violence exists and at times it must be met with violence. Violence is not pretty in any form. It is a cause for chaos and at times the only solution to that chaos. It is not a fact that feels good. A perfect world would not contain this violence but we do not live in a perfect world. Some people create violence. Others are called to handle it.
I want each person who has a strong opinion about our current situation to ask themselves if they have the information needed to have a strong opinion. Do you know an officer or deputy? Have you ridden with them? Have you seen what they see? Do you care to have an informed opinion? Please ask us why we do what we do. Please
don’t assume when you can actually see it for yourself. And please remember that these are people from your community. And please consider the fact that however you feel about them and however you treat them, if you need them they will come.
