I am Rayshard Brooks

11 charges for murderer. 3 for partner. I didn't even know some of these charges were crimes.

Rolfe (murderer):

1. felony murder,
2. aggravated assault with a deadly weapon,
3. aggravated assault,
4. violation of oath (unspecified),
5. shooting towards a bystander in a car in the parking lot,
6. criminal damage to property after a bullet hit the car,
7. oath violation for not informing Brooks of cause of arrest,
8. shooting a Taser at Brooks as he fled,
9. excessive force when shooting Brooks,
10. failing to administer medical aid to Brooks after he was shot,
11. aggravated assault for kicking Brooks after he was shot

Brosnan (partner):
1. aggravated assault for standing on Brooks’ body after he was shot,
2. violation of oath for standing on Brooks’ body,
3. violation of oath for failing to give timely medical aid.

Morals of the story?

1. This is not the Wild Wild West.
2. Raging out is not a part of the job.
3. Police can be criminals too.

At least, this is so in the City of Atlanta.

#7 (not explicitly identifying cause of arrest) is the causal mechanism. Without that violation, the stop never escalates to anything.  He can get someone to come pick him, get an uber, or be escorted home by the police or other authority figure (train former police to do this type of job).

Not telling someone why they are being arrested is wrong for good reason.

1. Promotes righteous indignation.
2. Scares the shit out of people.
3. Undermines compliance.

#7 is the root of the brutal execution of Brooks.



When I watched the story of Rayshard Brooks unravel, I shuttered. My heart beat hastened. A flashback arrested me -- the knock-knock, the deep voices screaming -- "Open up! Open up! Roll down your window, sir." My eyes struggled to unwind themselves from themselves. I was sleeping in the driver's seat of my friend's car.

Three hours ago, it had been snowing; I had pulled over so as not to save our lives. "No Trespassing" "No Parking over Night. Car will be towed." The Steak n Shake parking looked food. I just needed to stop driving; I'll get some food and sober up.

Three hours later, I was arrested, charged with a misdemeanor for "public drunkenness". When I watched the body cam of Brooks, I understood his reaction. Ten minutes after the Martinsville police knocked on the window, my blood alcohol level was confirmed to be legal. I got up from the booth in the Steak N Shake they cornered me into; I was free to go.

As I stood up, the cop said, where are you going? I said, I am going home. My friend had tested above the BAL, so they were cuffing him. He looked at me, you can't drive; you've been drinking. Huh? Well, ma'am, you're legal but your BAL suggests you've been drinking. So, you can't drive.

Me: Ok, well, I can get a ride. Can I make a call?

Officer: Sure, how long will they take to come?

Me: Twenty five minutes, sir. They are right down the street. I can call them now.

Officer: Can they be here in 5 mins?

Me: Ummm...well, I am sure if I call them now they can get here in 20.

Officer: No, no...Do you know anyone who lives in Martinsville?

Me sniffing the racism, straightened up.

Officer: Can they be here in 5 mins?

Me: Ummm...no. Just let me call them. They'll be here quick.

Officer: Well, ma'am, you're trespassing on private property. We got a call from a customer saying there was a young man who was sleeping at the table.

At this point, I am like, okay some this is some classist racism. Martin’s I’ll is 99.5% white at that time. He knows it. I know it. Everyone knows the black girl who was selling bibles door to door in Martinsville. Everybody knows she disappeared. Everybody knows they still haven’t found her body.

I started throwing dirty looks at my friend. I was getting upset. WTF was he even doing in here. He said he was just going in to get some ketchup. He had, against my advice, went to get some food. He came back to eat it in the car, but he had forgotten the ketchup. That was 2 hours ago.

I offered to buy a breakfast meal. He refused to let me buy a meal on the premise that the store manager had asked them to remove us from the property. In my mind, I scanned my memory for the layout of the parking lot. There was a hotel on the south side of the parking lot when we came.

Me: Ok, I will leave. I will just get a room at that hotel room.

Officer looks towards the hotel, hesitates, and turns back to me: We can take you.

Me: Oh, naw, I'm good. I can walk it.

Officer: No, we will take you.

Seeing his impatience, I got nervous. I knew about the Holtzclaws before Officer Daniel Ken Holdsclaw was ever arrested. This wasn't going down like that.

Me: Well, thanks, we can just walk over there.

Officer: We will take the police car.

He gestures to his partner to start taking my friend away.

Officer: You can ride in the back.

Me: Naw, I'm good. I can walk.

The officer turns back sharply to face me. Scowls. Widens his stance.

Officer: Ok, you are under arrest.

I sighed, pissed but relieved: they couldn't disappear me.


Ten years later I unraveled that night up in a comedic skit I developed for In Laughing Color. I went in thinking I would




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