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Police Brutality in Hunters Point
One does not need to go to Palestine to see what an "Occupied Territory" looks like.
http://www.sfbayview.com/frontpp.htm#a2
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Police to parents whose children they were beating:‘As long as you people are here, we will act like this’
Eyewitness accounts: two mothers tell what happened on Martin Luther King’s holiday in the Hunters Point neighborhood of San Francisco
by Tenisha Bishop and Susan McAllister
Jerome Brown, 14, was the most badly beaten of all the children. His crime: asking the police to “take the guns off my li’l cousin.” This picture was taken outside the Bayview Police Station, where he was held for over an hour while his father waited to take him to the hospital. His mouth needed stitches inside and out, he’d suffered a concussion, couldn’t stand alone and for a while didn’t know who he was.
photos: tenisha bishop
Tenisha Bishop's account:
On Monday, Jan. 21, I had just gotten off of work at 12 midnight. I work as a security guard. As I was driving down Kiska Road, I was followed very closely by a San Francisco police patrol car with its high beams on.
At this point my son Demond, who had just made six years old, started crying, saying, “Mama, is the police gonna take us to jail,” and “Mama, I’m scared because the police have guns.”
As I was trying to console my son and pull over and park the car — because I was right in front of my house — the police zoomed so close to my door that I couldn’t open it. I rolled down the window and asked them first to turn the bright lights off because my son was terrified and second, why were they pulling me over.
An officer shone the light in my face and saw that I had my work uniform on and that my son was in the passenger seat. I asked for an explanation as well as probable cause, but he completely ignored me. Then the officer took the high beam light off of my car and made a U-turn. I assumed he was leaving.
As my son and I started taking off our seatbelts, the officers saw a red Ford Escort, which belongs to my neighbor. As I began to step out of my car, the police had guns drawn and were on the loudspeaker. The first words I heard were, “Driver step out of the vehicle.”
I screamed at the police and told them they were making a mistake because those were kids. He ignored me. I started screaming towards my build-ing, saying somebody go and get Janell’s mother because the police are about to shoot her.
I told my son to get in the back seat of my car and lie down across the floor. I figured if the police tried to shoot us, my son would be protected by me because I was blocking the rear door with my body. I was still screaming for my neighbor, Inell Manuel, to come outside.
By this time, her daughter, Janell Harris, who is only 12, was out of the car on her knees with her hands on her head. Then her friend, Alema Hoskins, 13, was ordered to do the same. I screamed across the street and told the other kids to go and get my neighbor, Sue McAllister, Alema’s mother.
Later I learned that four neighbor children, ages 12 to 14, had been sitting in the car listening to music. Because it was a holiday — Martin Luther King Day — they had been allowed to stay up late. They are all good kids and excellent students.
I wanted to grab my son and dart across the street, but I was afraid I would get shot or beat up by the police. This scene was familiar to me; I’ve seen it done before.
Police cars, a police van and police officers in army fatigues came onto the scene. Standing where I was, I saw police running with guns drawn on the fence between Milton Meyer Gym and the Hunters Point Boys and Girls Club. I informed numerous officers that these are kids that I know and this must be a mistake. They ignored me.
My neighbor, Leonard (Paco) Helm, came out saying, “What are y’all doing? Those are babies!” The police completely ignored him and myself. I then sent one of the kids to knock on the other parents’ door and tell them the kids are getting jacked and the police have guns pointed at their heads.
The police had pulled the two boys out who had been sitting in the back seat of the parked car. One of the boys, Brian Brown, 14, was so nervous he couldn’t follow directions. His eyes were stuck open.
The police told him to walk backwards and to put his hands on his head and to lie on the ground. He was so terrified I saw his hands trembling and shaking from across the street. Janell’s were shaking as well. Brian started walking in a circle because he did not know where to go. He was in shock.
The officers followed the same procedure for Tyrell Taylor, 14, who had also been sitting in the back seat.
By this time, the parents of Janell and Alema had come outside. Leonard and I were telling the police to put the guns down. They ignored us once again.
The kids were on the ground face down and scared to move because the police had guns pointed at their precious heads. Sue and Inell kept asking the police what was going on, and why did they have guns drawn on their babies.
Jerome Brown, 14, was in the gathering crowd. He was telling the police to take the guns off his “li’l cousin.” Parents, neighbors, passersby and other kids were pleading for the police to put the guns down as well. Jerome, who didn’t get an answer or an explanation, asked again.
Suddenly, one of the officers shouted out, “Take him down.” I saw with my own eyes eight white officers come over and slam Jerome’s body to the ground. One of them had come up behind him and pushed his head. He went down head first, with his feet flying in the air. I heard the knock when his head and jaw hit the concrete.
For at least five minutes, one officer pinned Jerome down with his knee between Jerome’s jaw and neck, grinding the boy’s face into the pavement.
Janell’s stepfather, Kevin Hall, told the police that Jerome was just a kid and they had no right do him the way they did. So another force of police rushed Kevin without saying anything. The police beat him while forcing him into the police car.
Jerome was lying on the ground in a pool of blood. His eyes looked glassy, and it didn’t look like he was breathing. As I stared at him, his eyes did not blink one time. I thought Jerome was dead.
I then grabbed my son and walked across the street. Looking at Jerome, my eyes started to water because he looked lifeless. My son was crying because of the police, the guns, all the cop cars, Jerome on the ground bleeding with the police all over his head, neck, back, knees, and ankles, while the other four kids were on the ground with guns pointed at their heads.
Leonard was screaming at all the neighbors asking who has a video camera or regular camera. I hurried up the stairs and got my camera. I live on the top floor of our three-story building so I had the bird’s eye view. I loaded film in my camera and started taking pictures from up top on the balcony.
The only Mexican officer out there saw the flash from the camera and signaled to the officer who arrived on the scene first. The next thing Paco and I saw was the officer speeding backwards towards Earl and Kirkwood, when he could have driven up Kirkwood to Kiska. Paco and I figured he did this because the officer did not want me to take a picture of his face, or get the patrol car number.
I later learned they had Jerome in the car and were taking him to the Bayview police station.
As I approached the bottom of the stairs I heard Janell and Alema screaming to the top of their lungs for their mamas. I tried to get the patrol car number, but he sped away. I asked one of the officers what was the name or number and he refused to tell me.
Then I asked why were there so many police out here for these little kids. He replied, “As long as you people are here, we will act like this.” I asked, “What the hell did you just say?” I said, “Are we monkeys, baboons, or niggas today?” Inell, Sue, and Leonard said, “What do you mean, ‘you people’?” I then snapped a picture of him with a stupid racist smirk on his face. I said to him, “How dare you say that — especially on Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday holiday. He then apologized, admitting guilt.
While I was standing right next to the pool of police officers, none of them said a word. They then cuffed the children and lifted them off the ground by their cuffs. They walked the children to the opposite side of the street directly behind my parked car.
The kids were asking for the cuffs to be loosened and the police acted as if they were deaf and the kids were invisible. So I asked the officers repeatedly if they could loosen the cuffs. One white officer screamed at me and said, “I didn’t cuff ’em, so don’t ask me to do shit.”
Brian’s cuffs were so tight he was screaming to the officers to loosen them. So one officer pulled him to his feet by his cuffs and slammed him back down on the ground. Tyrell, Alema, and Janell were upset at what they had just seen the police do to Brian. They were saying they hated the police. I also heard the kids say that all they had been doing was sitting in the car listening to music, so what was all of this for.
As I was crossing the street, Sue and Inell were asking the police if they could cross the street and be with their kids. The police told them that if they crossed the street they would get shot. This brought on an argument between the police and the parents.
The parents were in tears looking at their babies screaming and crying from across the street. The parents could not even console or embrace or even come to the same side of the street as their kids. What a shame on the San Francisco Police Department.
The police searched the girls, rubbing them on the breast, hip, buttock, and between the thighs. Imagine seeing these helpless, violated, innocent beautiful black babies. Alema, who just made 14 the following Friday, is the curvier of the two. The officers lifted up her sweater because it was tied around her waist and rubbed and fondled instead of searching. The whole while Alema was being searched, her mother was screaming across the street saying, “That’s not right. Y’all can’t search my baby like that. Call for a female officer. She is just a baby,” as she broke down in tears.
Leonard and I were asking for a reason for the police being here anyway. One officer, who I give credit for treating us with respect, talked to us and told us they had gotten a call from somebody in our building, saying that there were some guys with guns and ski masks in a red car. He was the only officer who held a conversation with us. We all thanked him because we had had no clue what this situation was all about.
The police were searching the car at this time. The officer who was searching the car was mad and bright red with an attitude because he found NOTHING. They pulled the kids up by their cuffs once again and began to take the cuffs off.
Sue and Inell ran across the street towards their kids. The police put the boys in the police car still in handcuffs. I shouted out to the police, “I’ll take the boys home ’cause y’all might beat them and leave them for dead somewhere.” An officer shone his flashlight in my face to try to piss me off, but I smiled right at him, praying for him and his family like I learned in church.
I took more pictures of the scene and asked the officers to look at these kids and apologize for their racist behavior and misconduct. They didn’t even look back.
We started walking across the street when we saw a pool of blood that was involuntarily left by Jerome. That’s when my neighbors told me that they had taken Jerome to jail. I started to cry looking at Jerome’s blood and at the girls’ tears streaming down their faces. What hurt most was the stale yet innocent look on the kids faces.
We all went to Inell’s house and told the kids we loved and cared about them. We also told them that it was not their fault and to try to calm down and breathe.
I then went into my house because my son was drilling me with questions. He asked, “Mama, is Jerome dead?” “Did Alema and Janell go to jail?” My heart broke telling my six-year-old son answers to his many questions. However, I told him the truth. I didn’t sugarcoat anything.
At this time, Inell said she was going to go to the police station to pick up Janells stepfather. Leonard said he would go while Sue and I stayed home consoling the kids. I gave Leonard my camera because I didn’t want him to leave out anything. There was no telling what would happen next.
I know for a fact Alema and Janell couldn’t sleep. They couldn’t stop staring and crying either. The sun eventually came up.
All that day a black police car drove up and down our street watching us. This was no ordinary police car but an all black police car. This car never stopped but slowed down when it passed our building. The person driving didn’t have on a uniform. He was dressed casually as if he was an inspector of some sort.
There were no kids playing outside following Martin Luther King’s birthday. This is definitely not what Dr. King’s dream was about. This is now the reality! Dr. King’s dream has turned into a nightmare!
An Ella Baker Center report on the beating
A report prepared by the Ella Baker Center for Human Rights and other eyewitness accounts adds this information:
When Jerome was taken down to the police department, he was still bleeding. He had bruises and lacerations on his ribs, wrists and shoulders from having three officers on him at one time. James Brown, Jerome’s father, was at the station as soon as Jerome was brought there, but the officers intentionally delayed his release for over an hour and a half. James saved his son’s shirt, which was soaked in blood.
When Jerome was finally released, he was still dazed and could not stand alone. James took Jerome to San Francisco General Hospital, where he was given stitches for his busted mouth, both inside and out. His jaw was dislocated, and he may need reconstructive surgery. His many bruises and lacerations and the swelling of his wrists were documented, and he was prescribed pain killers and antibiotics.
He was also diagnosed with a concussion, and it was documented that he was disoriented and did not know who he was at first as a result of the concussion. The doctors told Jerome’s father he had been severely abused.
All the children had to miss the next day of school because they were so traumatized. They are all honor students who get As and Bs in school and enjoy school. But now they are afraid to leave the house and can’t stop crying. They are exhibiting symptoms of post-traumatic stress and all have appointments to receive therapy.
Susie’s daughter has large bruises all up and down her arms. She does not bruise easily.
Contact the Ella Baker Center at (415) 951-4844.
Susie McAllister's account:
On Jan. 21, my neighbor Tenisha called me outside. I was told that my daughter was on the ground with a gun to her head. At first I thought it had something to do with a gang because of the area we live in.
When I came outside, I saw my daughter on the ground face down with guns to her head. This was no gang. This was the San Francisco Police Department.
As I came downstairs, I was screaming for the policemen to take the guns from my child’s head. When I asked the police officer why did they have guns to my child’s head, he said that a call had come from the building saying that there were African American men with guns and ski masks in a red car.
I asked the police officer, “Do these look like African American men to you?” He said nothing. When I took a step towards my child, one of the officers said, “If you move, I’ll shoot you.”
In the meanwhile, they still had guns to my daughter’s head. My daughter was screaming to the top of her lungs for me. I was telling her that I was there and that it was going to be all right — even though the police officer had his knee in my 13-year-old daughter’s back.
The policemen pulled her up by her handcuffs. He then took her to the curb, which was directly across the street from where I was standing.
I then saw between five and eight officers lift Jerome up. He was in the street. I looked at Jerome, who looked starry eyed dazed, and his face was bleeding. I called out his name, but he didn’t respond. The police had Jerome by the arm because apparently he couldn’t walk. They put him in the police car handcuffed and backed up, going up towards Kiska Road.
RIGHT: This is the officer who said, “As long as you people are here, we will act like this.”
When the police lifted up my daughter, they still had guns pointed at all of the kids’ heads. Once the kids were placed on the curb, my neighbor Inell and I were asking the police officers if we could see our kids.
We also asked the police why were they doing this. One of the officers said, “As long as you people are here, we will act like this.” By this time I was outraged.
I looked towards my neighbors Tenisha, Inell, and Paco to see if they heard what I had heard. That is when my neighbor Tenisha said, “You people! What are we this time? Are we monkeys, baboons, or are we niggas today?” Then she took a picture of the officer who said it.
Meanwhile our children were still in handcuffs on the other side of the street crying. The police were starting to search the children. One of the officers took the palm of his hand and went across my daughter’s breast. I started screaming that they needed to get a female police officer out here. The police officer continued to feel down my daughter. He went up between her legs to her crotch and lifted her sweater and felt on her behind with the palm of his hand. I broke down in tears because of the pain and humiliation my daughter was going through. If I had let someone feel on my daughter like that, I would be arrested.
The police ran a check on my daughter and asked her if she had ever been arrested. My daughter said no. The police replied, “I don’t believe that.” My daughter was still in handcuffs when the officer returned from running a check on her in the police car; he then took the handcuffs off.
He told my daughter if she wanted to be released that she had to sign a paper. Till this day I don’t know what it was.
They released my daughter Alema. My daughter and I walked toward each other. I grabbed my daughter, we embraced, and we cried. I was crying because I was glad she was returned to me safe, even though she was humiliated.
While returning across the street in front of my house I noticed a pool of blood on the ground. I then heard someone say, “Take a picture of that.” The blood on the ground was Jerome’s.
My daughter Alema is an eighth grader in Marina Middle School. She is very much liked by both students and faculty. My daughter brings home As and Bs on her report card. She has made the Honor Roll the whole while she has been at Marina. In addition, Alema has never been in trouble with the law, or with the school.
Due to this incident, Alema has lost sleep and many days of school and is in therapy due to this trauma. My daughter’s trust and confidence in the San Francisco Police Department will never be the same.
On Wednesday, Jan. 23, I noticed visible bruises on both my daughter’s arms. She also had bruises on both of her wrists.
Police to parents whose children they were beating:‘As long as you people are here, we will act like this’
Eyewitness accounts: two mothers tell what happened on Martin Luther King’s holiday in the Hunters Point neighborhood of San Francisco
by Tenisha Bishop and Susan McAllister
Jerome Brown, 14, was the most badly beaten of all the children. His crime: asking the police to “take the guns off my li’l cousin.” This picture was taken outside the Bayview Police Station, where he was held for over an hour while his father waited to take him to the hospital. His mouth needed stitches inside and out, he’d suffered a concussion, couldn’t stand alone and for a while didn’t know who he was.
photos: tenisha bishop
Tenisha Bishop's account:
On Monday, Jan. 21, I had just gotten off of work at 12 midnight. I work as a security guard. As I was driving down Kiska Road, I was followed very closely by a San Francisco police patrol car with its high beams on.
At this point my son Demond, who had just made six years old, started crying, saying, “Mama, is the police gonna take us to jail,” and “Mama, I’m scared because the police have guns.”
As I was trying to console my son and pull over and park the car — because I was right in front of my house — the police zoomed so close to my door that I couldn’t open it. I rolled down the window and asked them first to turn the bright lights off because my son was terrified and second, why were they pulling me over.
An officer shone the light in my face and saw that I had my work uniform on and that my son was in the passenger seat. I asked for an explanation as well as probable cause, but he completely ignored me. Then the officer took the high beam light off of my car and made a U-turn. I assumed he was leaving.
As my son and I started taking off our seatbelts, the officers saw a red Ford Escort, which belongs to my neighbor. As I began to step out of my car, the police had guns drawn and were on the loudspeaker. The first words I heard were, “Driver step out of the vehicle.”
I screamed at the police and told them they were making a mistake because those were kids. He ignored me. I started screaming towards my build-ing, saying somebody go and get Janell’s mother because the police are about to shoot her.
I told my son to get in the back seat of my car and lie down across the floor. I figured if the police tried to shoot us, my son would be protected by me because I was blocking the rear door with my body. I was still screaming for my neighbor, Inell Manuel, to come outside.
By this time, her daughter, Janell Harris, who is only 12, was out of the car on her knees with her hands on her head. Then her friend, Alema Hoskins, 13, was ordered to do the same. I screamed across the street and told the other kids to go and get my neighbor, Sue McAllister, Alema’s mother.
Later I learned that four neighbor children, ages 12 to 14, had been sitting in the car listening to music. Because it was a holiday — Martin Luther King Day — they had been allowed to stay up late. They are all good kids and excellent students.
I wanted to grab my son and dart across the street, but I was afraid I would get shot or beat up by the police. This scene was familiar to me; I’ve seen it done before.
Police cars, a police van and police officers in army fatigues came onto the scene. Standing where I was, I saw police running with guns drawn on the fence between Milton Meyer Gym and the Hunters Point Boys and Girls Club. I informed numerous officers that these are kids that I know and this must be a mistake. They ignored me.
My neighbor, Leonard (Paco) Helm, came out saying, “What are y’all doing? Those are babies!” The police completely ignored him and myself. I then sent one of the kids to knock on the other parents’ door and tell them the kids are getting jacked and the police have guns pointed at their heads.
The police had pulled the two boys out who had been sitting in the back seat of the parked car. One of the boys, Brian Brown, 14, was so nervous he couldn’t follow directions. His eyes were stuck open.
The police told him to walk backwards and to put his hands on his head and to lie on the ground. He was so terrified I saw his hands trembling and shaking from across the street. Janell’s were shaking as well. Brian started walking in a circle because he did not know where to go. He was in shock.
The officers followed the same procedure for Tyrell Taylor, 14, who had also been sitting in the back seat.
By this time, the parents of Janell and Alema had come outside. Leonard and I were telling the police to put the guns down. They ignored us once again.
The kids were on the ground face down and scared to move because the police had guns pointed at their precious heads. Sue and Inell kept asking the police what was going on, and why did they have guns drawn on their babies.
Jerome Brown, 14, was in the gathering crowd. He was telling the police to take the guns off his “li’l cousin.” Parents, neighbors, passersby and other kids were pleading for the police to put the guns down as well. Jerome, who didn’t get an answer or an explanation, asked again.
Suddenly, one of the officers shouted out, “Take him down.” I saw with my own eyes eight white officers come over and slam Jerome’s body to the ground. One of them had come up behind him and pushed his head. He went down head first, with his feet flying in the air. I heard the knock when his head and jaw hit the concrete.
For at least five minutes, one officer pinned Jerome down with his knee between Jerome’s jaw and neck, grinding the boy’s face into the pavement.
Janell’s stepfather, Kevin Hall, told the police that Jerome was just a kid and they had no right do him the way they did. So another force of police rushed Kevin without saying anything. The police beat him while forcing him into the police car.
Jerome was lying on the ground in a pool of blood. His eyes looked glassy, and it didn’t look like he was breathing. As I stared at him, his eyes did not blink one time. I thought Jerome was dead.
I then grabbed my son and walked across the street. Looking at Jerome, my eyes started to water because he looked lifeless. My son was crying because of the police, the guns, all the cop cars, Jerome on the ground bleeding with the police all over his head, neck, back, knees, and ankles, while the other four kids were on the ground with guns pointed at their heads.
Leonard was screaming at all the neighbors asking who has a video camera or regular camera. I hurried up the stairs and got my camera. I live on the top floor of our three-story building so I had the bird’s eye view. I loaded film in my camera and started taking pictures from up top on the balcony.
The only Mexican officer out there saw the flash from the camera and signaled to the officer who arrived on the scene first. The next thing Paco and I saw was the officer speeding backwards towards Earl and Kirkwood, when he could have driven up Kirkwood to Kiska. Paco and I figured he did this because the officer did not want me to take a picture of his face, or get the patrol car number.
I later learned they had Jerome in the car and were taking him to the Bayview police station.
As I approached the bottom of the stairs I heard Janell and Alema screaming to the top of their lungs for their mamas. I tried to get the patrol car number, but he sped away. I asked one of the officers what was the name or number and he refused to tell me.
Then I asked why were there so many police out here for these little kids. He replied, “As long as you people are here, we will act like this.” I asked, “What the hell did you just say?” I said, “Are we monkeys, baboons, or niggas today?” Inell, Sue, and Leonard said, “What do you mean, ‘you people’?” I then snapped a picture of him with a stupid racist smirk on his face. I said to him, “How dare you say that — especially on Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday holiday. He then apologized, admitting guilt.
While I was standing right next to the pool of police officers, none of them said a word. They then cuffed the children and lifted them off the ground by their cuffs. They walked the children to the opposite side of the street directly behind my parked car.
The kids were asking for the cuffs to be loosened and the police acted as if they were deaf and the kids were invisible. So I asked the officers repeatedly if they could loosen the cuffs. One white officer screamed at me and said, “I didn’t cuff ’em, so don’t ask me to do shit.”
Brian’s cuffs were so tight he was screaming to the officers to loosen them. So one officer pulled him to his feet by his cuffs and slammed him back down on the ground. Tyrell, Alema, and Janell were upset at what they had just seen the police do to Brian. They were saying they hated the police. I also heard the kids say that all they had been doing was sitting in the car listening to music, so what was all of this for.
As I was crossing the street, Sue and Inell were asking the police if they could cross the street and be with their kids. The police told them that if they crossed the street they would get shot. This brought on an argument between the police and the parents.
The parents were in tears looking at their babies screaming and crying from across the street. The parents could not even console or embrace or even come to the same side of the street as their kids. What a shame on the San Francisco Police Department.
The police searched the girls, rubbing them on the breast, hip, buttock, and between the thighs. Imagine seeing these helpless, violated, innocent beautiful black babies. Alema, who just made 14 the following Friday, is the curvier of the two. The officers lifted up her sweater because it was tied around her waist and rubbed and fondled instead of searching. The whole while Alema was being searched, her mother was screaming across the street saying, “That’s not right. Y’all can’t search my baby like that. Call for a female officer. She is just a baby,” as she broke down in tears.
Leonard and I were asking for a reason for the police being here anyway. One officer, who I give credit for treating us with respect, talked to us and told us they had gotten a call from somebody in our building, saying that there were some guys with guns and ski masks in a red car. He was the only officer who held a conversation with us. We all thanked him because we had had no clue what this situation was all about.
The police were searching the car at this time. The officer who was searching the car was mad and bright red with an attitude because he found NOTHING. They pulled the kids up by their cuffs once again and began to take the cuffs off.
Sue and Inell ran across the street towards their kids. The police put the boys in the police car still in handcuffs. I shouted out to the police, “I’ll take the boys home ’cause y’all might beat them and leave them for dead somewhere.” An officer shone his flashlight in my face to try to piss me off, but I smiled right at him, praying for him and his family like I learned in church.
I took more pictures of the scene and asked the officers to look at these kids and apologize for their racist behavior and misconduct. They didn’t even look back.
We started walking across the street when we saw a pool of blood that was involuntarily left by Jerome. That’s when my neighbors told me that they had taken Jerome to jail. I started to cry looking at Jerome’s blood and at the girls’ tears streaming down their faces. What hurt most was the stale yet innocent look on the kids faces.
We all went to Inell’s house and told the kids we loved and cared about them. We also told them that it was not their fault and to try to calm down and breathe.
I then went into my house because my son was drilling me with questions. He asked, “Mama, is Jerome dead?” “Did Alema and Janell go to jail?” My heart broke telling my six-year-old son answers to his many questions. However, I told him the truth. I didn’t sugarcoat anything.
At this time, Inell said she was going to go to the police station to pick up Janells stepfather. Leonard said he would go while Sue and I stayed home consoling the kids. I gave Leonard my camera because I didn’t want him to leave out anything. There was no telling what would happen next.
I know for a fact Alema and Janell couldn’t sleep. They couldn’t stop staring and crying either. The sun eventually came up.
All that day a black police car drove up and down our street watching us. This was no ordinary police car but an all black police car. This car never stopped but slowed down when it passed our building. The person driving didn’t have on a uniform. He was dressed casually as if he was an inspector of some sort.
There were no kids playing outside following Martin Luther King’s birthday. This is definitely not what Dr. King’s dream was about. This is now the reality! Dr. King’s dream has turned into a nightmare!
An Ella Baker Center report on the beating
A report prepared by the Ella Baker Center for Human Rights and other eyewitness accounts adds this information:
When Jerome was taken down to the police department, he was still bleeding. He had bruises and lacerations on his ribs, wrists and shoulders from having three officers on him at one time. James Brown, Jerome’s father, was at the station as soon as Jerome was brought there, but the officers intentionally delayed his release for over an hour and a half. James saved his son’s shirt, which was soaked in blood.
When Jerome was finally released, he was still dazed and could not stand alone. James took Jerome to San Francisco General Hospital, where he was given stitches for his busted mouth, both inside and out. His jaw was dislocated, and he may need reconstructive surgery. His many bruises and lacerations and the swelling of his wrists were documented, and he was prescribed pain killers and antibiotics.
He was also diagnosed with a concussion, and it was documented that he was disoriented and did not know who he was at first as a result of the concussion. The doctors told Jerome’s father he had been severely abused.
All the children had to miss the next day of school because they were so traumatized. They are all honor students who get As and Bs in school and enjoy school. But now they are afraid to leave the house and can’t stop crying. They are exhibiting symptoms of post-traumatic stress and all have appointments to receive therapy.
Susie’s daughter has large bruises all up and down her arms. She does not bruise easily.
Contact the Ella Baker Center at (415) 951-4844.
Susie McAllister's account:
On Jan. 21, my neighbor Tenisha called me outside. I was told that my daughter was on the ground with a gun to her head. At first I thought it had something to do with a gang because of the area we live in.
When I came outside, I saw my daughter on the ground face down with guns to her head. This was no gang. This was the San Francisco Police Department.
As I came downstairs, I was screaming for the policemen to take the guns from my child’s head. When I asked the police officer why did they have guns to my child’s head, he said that a call had come from the building saying that there were African American men with guns and ski masks in a red car.
I asked the police officer, “Do these look like African American men to you?” He said nothing. When I took a step towards my child, one of the officers said, “If you move, I’ll shoot you.”
In the meanwhile, they still had guns to my daughter’s head. My daughter was screaming to the top of her lungs for me. I was telling her that I was there and that it was going to be all right — even though the police officer had his knee in my 13-year-old daughter’s back.
The policemen pulled her up by her handcuffs. He then took her to the curb, which was directly across the street from where I was standing.
I then saw between five and eight officers lift Jerome up. He was in the street. I looked at Jerome, who looked starry eyed dazed, and his face was bleeding. I called out his name, but he didn’t respond. The police had Jerome by the arm because apparently he couldn’t walk. They put him in the police car handcuffed and backed up, going up towards Kiska Road.
RIGHT: This is the officer who said, “As long as you people are here, we will act like this.”
When the police lifted up my daughter, they still had guns pointed at all of the kids’ heads. Once the kids were placed on the curb, my neighbor Inell and I were asking the police officers if we could see our kids.
We also asked the police why were they doing this. One of the officers said, “As long as you people are here, we will act like this.” By this time I was outraged.
I looked towards my neighbors Tenisha, Inell, and Paco to see if they heard what I had heard. That is when my neighbor Tenisha said, “You people! What are we this time? Are we monkeys, baboons, or are we niggas today?” Then she took a picture of the officer who said it.
Meanwhile our children were still in handcuffs on the other side of the street crying. The police were starting to search the children. One of the officers took the palm of his hand and went across my daughter’s breast. I started screaming that they needed to get a female police officer out here. The police officer continued to feel down my daughter. He went up between her legs to her crotch and lifted her sweater and felt on her behind with the palm of his hand. I broke down in tears because of the pain and humiliation my daughter was going through. If I had let someone feel on my daughter like that, I would be arrested.
The police ran a check on my daughter and asked her if she had ever been arrested. My daughter said no. The police replied, “I don’t believe that.” My daughter was still in handcuffs when the officer returned from running a check on her in the police car; he then took the handcuffs off.
He told my daughter if she wanted to be released that she had to sign a paper. Till this day I don’t know what it was.
They released my daughter Alema. My daughter and I walked toward each other. I grabbed my daughter, we embraced, and we cried. I was crying because I was glad she was returned to me safe, even though she was humiliated.
While returning across the street in front of my house I noticed a pool of blood on the ground. I then heard someone say, “Take a picture of that.” The blood on the ground was Jerome’s.
My daughter Alema is an eighth grader in Marina Middle School. She is very much liked by both students and faculty. My daughter brings home As and Bs on her report card. She has made the Honor Roll the whole while she has been at Marina. In addition, Alema has never been in trouble with the law, or with the school.
Due to this incident, Alema has lost sleep and many days of school and is in therapy due to this trauma. My daughter’s trust and confidence in the San Francisco Police Department will never be the same.
On Wednesday, Jan. 23, I noticed visible bruises on both my daughter’s arms. She also had bruises on both of her wrists.
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http://www.indybay.org/news/2002/02/116053.php
THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 21ST 6:00PM 54 MINT ST.
(alley st. between market and mission, 5th and 6th. in downtown SF)
If you oppose the concept of law enforcement generally, then this debate is lost on you...and you simply oppose police no matter what.
But, if you (like over 96% of citizens) suppor the concept of law enforcement and police, then it does not help to generalize against police officers, who undoubtedly have their own side to this story.
I don't think it's productive to call them fascist or racist since that does not describe the vast majority of the police force in San Francisco. If you think it does, well-- then perhaps that explains what is causing these apparent "wars" between citizens and the police.
There needs to be cooperation and understanding between the residents of Hunters Point, and those that are paid to serve and protect them. Until then, it's hopeless-- since neither are going away anytime soon.
This post is completely one-sided. As a resident of Hunters Point/Bayview, I know for a fact that some of these kids were in possession of guns on the day this incident occurred. There's a bigger story here, and most likely both sides had a part to play in the mistakes that were made.
Her comments were as follows: Then I asked why were there so many police out here for these little kids. He replied, “As long as you people are here, we will act like this.” I asked, “What the hell did you just say?” I said, “Are we monkeys, baboons, or niggas today?”
So, what are they? In this day of PC, I keep forgetting.
if we take for granted that most people want police in the form that we have them now, I think we should also take for granted that most of them think police should act professionally.
the story above paints a picture of unprofessional policing at best, and at worst, racist, fascist, power-driven policing.
there was a study done at stanford I think in 1971, it's on their website, where half the students were made "prisoners" and half "guards". the study showed that putting anyone in a situation where they have power over someone else will end up in abuse. apart from this, just think of what goes on in nursing homes and children's homes -- rampant abuse.
picking apart this particular incident above is of little import, worse things happen daily across the country and the world, and radical systemic change is needed to replace the current abusive system.
we may need people to "police" others in some form, but we need a whole different way of doing so, one that has checks and balances so as to radically stem abuses that are inherent in such stark power relationships.
As to the police, the cop's statement reveals what is the usual procedure for gentrifying an area, and has been going on in the various black communities for a long time, aided to a great deal by Willie Brown, a real estate attorney sitting illegally in the mayor's office with 40% of the vote plus election fraud. Police terror of the black community is a common way of driving people out of a community. The police are of course the armed thugs of the capitalist class, represented by the mayor, who hires the police chief and can fire the police chief at any time. Police Chief Lau should certainly be fired. This is not the first time we have seen this attack on the black community by the police under Police Chief Lau.
There is no such thing as a kind and gentle cop. The police are never the friends of the workingclass, those of us who sell our labor for less than $70,000 (and usually less than $50,000) per year. Their purpose is to enforce the capitalist laws with a legal system that puts property rights before human rights. The police are certainly best avoided when possible and never called.
This story is so horrific that the best thing that the San Francisco police, commonly known as the Democratic Party's police due to the Democratic Party machine sitting in power for some 40 years, can do is direct traffic, and all hiring in that department should be frozen. The police who perpetrated this horrible nightmare should be fired immediately. This is Gestapo fascist terror, all to benefit the profits of the real estate speculators.
What needs to happen, and I have a feeling that you (Joseph) would agree, is dialogue between community members and the police. The SF Police Department OWES this community their time and efforts, they work for all of us. What other line of work allows employees to terrorize the people that they work for?!!!! Community members need to vent; let go of all their anger towards the department, express their hurt, pain and anguish. Then they can move on to finding real solutions, where the people in the Bayview community, the majority of which ARE NOT CRIMINALS, can work with the police department to form programs that really work for them. Police Officers should be familiar with community leaders, children and families in the neighborhood, etc... they should not just raid a neighborhood and pluck people with black faces off the streets.
Our employees should be held accountable for their actions, Police should help children feel safe. Instead an incident like this has only created more animosity towards a system that has failed and continues to fail a whole class of people.
http://www.brasscheck.com/cm/suggestions.html
"A Boom Box? We are lucky rage has been articulated this peacefully."
http://eatthestate.org/06-10/BoomBoxVoice.htm
The titles of hidden comments (whether duplicates or hidden for other reasons) are always available here: http://www.indybay.org/news/?comments=yes&hidden=hidden -- at this time there is no public facility to view hidden comments.
FUCK THE POLICE
THEY ALL DESERVE TO DIE
THE ONES WHO DIED AT THE WTC GOT WHAT THEY DESERVED, MAY THEY ALL BURN IN HELL!!!!
THIS IS THE ONLY SOLUTION TO THE POLICE BRUTALITY PROBLEM!!!!
Well, Cartman went arround, harrasing citizens, hitting them in the kneecaps, yelling "RESPECT MY AUTHORITY!!!"
I would feel so much safer with him than with our current cops.
In fact, I feel safer with Gangs than I do with Cops.
it's time we forget DR King, and accept Malcom X.
BY ANY MEANS NECESSARY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
But after reading this, I have decided to go AWOL and not go!
I will not serve any country that lets its cops act like death squads against their civilians!
How can I defend America if the Cops won't protect it's People?
Mr. Mumford is speaking of each human, each person, being responsible for their actions and the consequences of those actions, and the uniting of mankind at the "lowest levels"- that's us, the citizens of the world, when he writes:
"One clear act of sanity remains to be performed: to call upon the right reason of our opposite numbers all over the world, in the conviction that mankind as a whole has a repository of sanity and good will that is capable of delivering the [human] race from psychotic malice and irrational violence. This is not an appeal for last-moment conversations "at the highest levels" to halt the present march to war. What the situation demands now is just the opposite: conversations at the lowest levels: not a final meeting of the few but preliminary meeting and joining of the many.
THIS BOOK WAS PUBLISHED IN 1954!!! It's a shame that nothing has changed since then. I was furious while reading the Hunters Point article. Might I suggest, for those of you who are a bit scared or concerned by both the abuse of power in todays society, and how this abuse of power affects other citizens of the world (who are just the same as you people in Hunters Point) going to Dolores Park on Saturday April 20, and showing your support for the residents of America and the citizens of the World. You'll learn about what really makes this "world-go-round". And it'll probably piss you off- if you're not already.
If you've read this far, you won't mind reading another sentence- a plea actually!! READ SOME BOOKS, EDUCATE YOURSELF, AND FOR #@^%$%& SAKE, START DISCUSSIONS WITH YOUR FELLOW MAN/WOMAN ABOUT WHAT WE, AS A COLOSSAL GROUP CAN DO TO MAKE OUR WORLD A BETTER PLACE FOR ALL.
Although it may prove more difficult to stop the less flagrant things cops do: such as unfair trafficking practices (ie. driving while black/brown), we do have the ability to catch cops and photograph or videotape them when they're blatantly out of control and BREAKING THE LAW- they're supposed to be upholding. So here's my idea: What if a web domain took it upon themselves to devote an entire section of the web page to police abuse. Most likely focusing on a geographic region like the Bay Area. Anyone with pictures/video could submit it to the domain's owner. Then the pictures could be uploaded, for all the community to see. And if possible, identify what happened in the event, and the officers involved and what PD/division they work for. Once a police officer is identified, if possible obtain and post a "mug" shot and post this- so his/her face is clear for everyone to see. Yah... this seems like a long shot. But if communities started taking something like this serious, and a collage of pictures began to develop- Such press brought to "bad" cops and bad "PD's" might bring about some change-
So who is going to register http://www.crookedcops.com ? ? ?
Quit making an embarrassing spectacle of yourself
Joseph please check your facts and please do not fabricate stories - do not sell the community and please stand up for what is right. We have a short film "HP on Fire" it tells it all. Kevin Epps can show it to you all who think ill of the victims - on that fateful day a great crime was committed by those who should have protected the children - protected the constituents of Hunters Point we call the HILL. We will NOT take any injustice sitting down.
Francisco Da Costa
http://www.franciscodacosta.com
A nigga will take another nigga head off for staring too long- but these same niggaz act like women when confronted by police- i.e. run they mouths and do as they're told. Niggaz is dying by the dozens, running from life sentences, and they still scared to war with police. STR8 cowardice.
These same police terrorized me and my peers when I was a teenager and now that I am grown I see them doing the same thing to the youth. These pigs are normal people with families just like us, who put on a uniform and a badge, drive to where we are, and terrorize us and our families. AND THEY GET PAID TO DO IT!
As I sit here with my son in my lap I pray to GOD that he give me strength and courage to protect him from any form of abuse in any circumstance BY ANY MEANS NECCESSARY!
Life has taught me that a man don't have to be raped to have his manhood took. Black Man stop allowing these pigs to parade you in front of crowds trying to prove you less than a man! Black women all over the country have been holding it down for way too long taking care of entire families as well as the (grown) men who should've been. Men: We can't expect them to fight our battles too. My point? We got to get this shit together brothaz, if not we gone remain some nuttin ass niggaz.