75% of the officers who shot and killed unarmed Black citizens were white.
19 of the 135 officers (14%) were rookies with less than a year on their police force, including one that fatally shot an unarmed Black person within four hours of being on the force.
A quarter of victims were killed during traffic stops.
Roughly 18% of the victims suffered from a diagnosed mental illness.
33 out of 135 officers were either fired or resigned; 3 officers successfully were reinstated into their position.
5 of the officers went on to work for other police departments.
13 out 135 were charged with murder, 2 were found guilty, 3 were acquitted and 7 have pending cases.
At least six officers had troubled pasts before being hired onto police departments, including drug use and domestic violence. One officer had been fired from another law enforcement agency, and at least two others were forced out.
Nearly 60% of the shootings occurred in the South, with more than a quarter in Texas, Georgia and Louisiana.
You think about the moment it will happen after you reach a certain age. You think of all the things you’re going to do and say. You imagine those precious moments where it’s just the two of you and the smile you receive after you have taught a valuable lesson you hope it will last for years to come. You think of all the things you did wrong, all the wrong turns you took in your own life. You think of all the things you should have done and said. You remember those awful moments you had in your life – those mistakes that try to haunt you forever. Then the moment comes when your daughter says, “Mom, I’m pregnant!” You hear her say it and you’re filled with joy and pain simultaneously. You see my story isn’t so pretty, with great memories of a husband, a baby shower, a college fund, and great outings with grandparents. I made some very wrong turns in my life and it took me – for what seems like a lifetime to recover. Just when I thought I had it all together, the enemy came in like a flood and took me back to those long dark nights of pain. Then I escaped with the hand of God. Yeah, so when I heard those words I was frightened, fearful and joy was trying it’s hardest to seep through the darkness. One day – I smiled and thought to myself I’m going to be the best grandma ever! I thought about all the things I was going to say, the many times I would go against my daughter’s wishes and spoil that baby (just like my mother did). I thought about the times I would have to be a strong tower of faith for those moments when her child would give her grief. I wanted to do for that baby what I missed doing for my baby girl…
I watched her take great care dressing the warmer. She was so loving and thoughtful. I was both in awe and cringing with regret – you see I didn’t always deliver such loving and tender moments with my daughter. The enemy had me caught in the grips of addiction and fear. I watched her gently ask my daughter questions about her desires for the pictures and I would be remiss if I didn’t mention how she delivered the disclosure about “next steps” as only someone who embodied great love and compassion for another human. Oh my, the floodgates have finally been released as I try and finish this story…
You see I just want to thank God even for the not so good moments – especially after my daughter delivered a still born baby.
When you wake up in the morning at 4:34 am and before you get out of bed, the train is already warmed up and ready to go at top speed through 125th street picking up every piece of paper in its path and you can’t decide whether to read it discard it put it on burner that’s on the shelf because the back burner is full or address each and every single piece of paper – it’s 4:48 you’re so exhausted you call out of work.
You look over your post and see that it was one run on sentence and think – job well done…