Screenshot of police body cam footage of NFL star Tyreek Hill’s Sept. 8 arrest (Credit: Miami Dade Police Department).& &
The barrel of that New York City Police officer’s revolver probably wasn’t cold.&
But it felt icy when he pressed it against my head and yelled, “I’m going to blow your f–king brains out!”
That was thirty-three and a half years ago, in February 1991, close to midnight on a Brooklyn street corner. A 16-year-old me and a white co-worker were done with our shifts at an ice cream parlor and headed to a taxi stand to get our rides home.&
That’s when a police car pulled up, and two officers jumped out. As one charged at me, I stopped cold in my boots, threw my hands up, and answered the officer’s questions like a private addressing a general.
But none of that mattered. The cop shoved me to the ground and made me get on my knees while his partner held my co-worker.
After all those years, the one thing I remember most, along with the coldness of that revolver, was that following the officer’s orders didn’t matter.
Compliance wasn’t enough to save my life.& & &
The Specter...
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