The series
continues. All this can’t be
comprehensive (would probably require a book for that), but should include some
salient points.
MICHAEL BROWN (the
Deceased)
Brown did not have a
great life. His mother apparently made
poor decisions, but both he and his mother had to struggle through a
poverty-stricken, almost hopeless environment.
Brown was, by all
appearances, an amateurish, petty thief, with at very most some loose
association with a petty “gang.” He
didn’t use, or even apparently possess, a weapon—not even a knife, let alone a
gun. He apparently sometimes used his
size, as big people sometimes do, to get what he wanted. But not a weapon.
He occasionally listened
to violent lyric’d rap music, a common activity for a number of young
African-American males. Yet conversely also
smoked weed, a mellowing drug.
So while he may not have
fit the fold of a “gentle giant,” he wasn’t much of a gang-banger either.
What’s very clear is that Brown’s less than ideal decisions prior
to that fateful 2 minutes were not of a magnitude—not even remotely close—to
have cost him his life. We will look
closer at those 2 minutes later.
DARRIN WILSON (the
Shooter)
Wilson hasn’t had that
great a life either. He had a mother who
made poor decisions also. Multiple
divorces, trouble with the law, even criminal forgery. Then she died when Wilson was 16, leaving him
alone with this then step-father.
Wilson first worked as a
cop in the neighboring town of Jennings, which was so racially troubled and had
a poorly performing police force, that the force was disbanded. Wilson then came to Ferguson.
Other than the culture
of Ferguson, and the Ferguson police department that was disconnected from the
majority black community, we apparently have no record of racial problems with
Wilson.
However, the language he
used in describing Brown—demon, grunting, aggressive, Hulk Hogan, etc.—is
typical of the type of subtle racism of someone scared of “the other,” in that
superhuman characteristics are imparted to that adversary, an adversary deemed
so powerful that even though wounded he was going to supposedly charge and tear
Wilson apart. So he had to be shot to be
stopped.
It is true Brown was
big, about 6’5” and almost 300 pounds.
But Wilson is no small officer; he’s 6’4” and 210 pounds, and presumably
with a lot of training about how to use that to even better effect. Of course, Wilson probably wasn’t used to running
into too many people who outsized and outweighed him.
For his EVENTUAL
questioning (readers can note for themselves when his statements were taken),
Wilson seemed well rehearsed. For his
media interview, Wilson appeared to be the product of months of interview coaching
and media preparation. His story seems,
even if he believes it, carefully polished.
BOB MCCULLOCH (the
Prosecutor)
McCulloch has or had relatives on the police force, including his
father—an officer who was killed in the line of duty when he was shot by a
black man.
Bob McCulloch
had no intention of bringing the case to trial.
He should have recused himself from the case for multiple reasons: a
record the black community considered one of selective and potentially
discriminatory prosecution and non-prosecution; his working relationship with
the officer; the fact that McCulloch’s
father was killed by an African-American male criminal, etc. Yet so arrogant was he that he actually dared
the governor to remove him (one presumes, in the incestuous nature of Missouri
politics, that he has something he can hang over the governor’s head).
If he truly had nothing to hide, and wanted to steer nothing, he
would have agreed to a special (independent) prosecutor from outside the
jurisdiction. He didn’t. He wanted control.
THE GRAND JURY
Anyone with even scant
familiarity of prosecutions and grand juries knows that a prosecutor usually
gets what he or she wants. They feed the
grand jury the evidence they want to present, in the order they want to present
it, to grand jury members who rely on their legal expertise; they also restrict
the grand jury in a number of ways. It
is relatively easy, if that’s what the prosecutor wants, to convince 9 (the required number in an indictment;
unanimity is not required) of 12 members of a grand jury of probable cause and
preponderance of evidence. In fact, it
is expressed, subtly and sometimes even overtly, when the prosecutor “wants to
take this case to trial,” and a prosecutor can usually take a case to trial
even when a grand jury fails to indict.
It also happens, way more times than not, that the prosecutor simply
fails to bring a case to the grand jury—grand juries being reserved for notable
cases of serious potential felonies (that the prosecutor chooses to bring to
them).
McCulloch effectively used, after initial piecemeal feeding,
document overload on the grand jury.
Confuse and overwhelm. Busy
people with personal and professional lives outside the legal system often
defer to the “experts” when information overload hits.
Clashing evidence was not examined in open court but spoon fed
in a secretive grand jury “process.” Witnesses favorable to Wilson were
discredited too—but not by local prosecutors, only federal prosecutors. One woman who backed Wilson’s story to a T
was found to have completely lied.
Why was a preliminary
hearing not used instead of a grand jury?
That would have been something open to the public, with judges and
lawyers present instead of only the grand jury and the intimidating
prosecutor. After all, half of states
effectively don’t even use grand juries anymore.
Because effectively the
potential defendant has to request one.
And Officer Wilson knew he had a much better chance of things going his
way if it was kept closed, under the direction of a prosecutor that he had a
working relationship with.
After all, grand juries
almost never indict police officers.
Prosecutors
misled the grand jurors that cops are allowed to, in any circumstance, shoot
suspects that are trying to flee. That
is profoundly untrue, as the Supreme Court ruled in 1985. Either the prosecutors are incompetent, or
they were deliberately deceptive in trying to shade the evidence. The more surface facts that are peeled back
from this case, the more muddled (and disturbing) it becomes.
Questioning of witnesses
and Wilson were by no means equitable, as the New York Times relates, and
seemed driven by the need to feed a narrative to support a decision that had
been predetermined:
“But the gentle questioning of Officer Wilson revealed in the
transcripts, and the sharp challenges prosecutors made to witnesses whose
accounts seemed to contradict his narrative, have led some to question whether
the process was as objective as Mr. McCulloch claims.”
“Though the prosecutors did not press Officer Wilson and
other law enforcement officials about some contradictions in their testimony,
they did challenge other witnesses about why their accounts had varied.”
“The medical examiner described the
succession of bullet wounds to the chest and face that, in his view, would not
have immediately incapacitated Mr. Brown. The prosecutors repeatedly questioned
the doctor about this, driving home that Mr. Brown could have still been mobile
(and dangerous) after the initial gunshot wounds. They seemed intent on emphasizing this point,
which supports Officer Wilson’s description of Mr. Brown lunging toward him
despite serious wounds.”
“’We were trying to give you a
balanced presentation of the evidence,’ Sheila Whirley, one of the prosecutors,
told the jurors in summary. ‘And I think you are going to make the right
decision.’”
We have no way of
knowing how many jurors voted for what.
All we know of the grand jury of 7 men and 5 women, 9 whites and 3
blacks, is that nine or more did NOT vote to indict. Eight could have voted to indict. Or maybe only three voted to indict. Maybe it was divided along racial lines,
maybe it wasn’t. It’s a secret process
and that it is can be both a benefit and a drawback.
What seems clear is that
it was under the strong, molding hand of the prosecution. An odd thing if one was really just trying to
uncover the truth and make a determination.
And take a look at that jury composition again. While that may have been a jury of one’s peers
for White Wilson, it wasn’t for African-American Brown, and it didn’t reflect
the community, only further accentuating how disconnected the police are from
the community, and why there are really separate “justice” systems.