What a bloody week this has been. Two apparently innocent black men were shot to death by police at opposite ends of the country. This in turn led to eleven Dallas police officers being gunned down by snipers during a march protesting the other two slayings.
This is off topic for this blog. But I feel compelled to comment. A memory came to mind and is another catalyst for this posting.
One evening in 2000 I was driving home to Philadelphia after having worked late at my university job in central New Jersey. I was tired and keeping myself alert by blasting an AC/DC album. As I left the Turnpike tolls and got onto the Blue Route, my last leg to the garage, somebody cut me off. Irrationally angry, I tailgated him. A cop pulled me over and I ultimately received a well-deserved citation for reckless driving.
After pulling me over, the officer came up to the passenger-side window. I rolled it down. He demanded my license and registration. I reached into the glove compartment for the registration, forgetting that I had a large fishing knife in there. As if pulled it out, my hand wrapped around the sheath, he began screaming (and I do mean screaming), "Drop the fucking knife! Drop the fucking knife!"
Of course I placed the knife on the passenger seat and got out the registration and proof of insurance. So here I was, a 53-year-old attorney in a business suit and tie, and this cop was acting as if he'd pulled over Osama Bin Laden. Perhaps today he'd shoot ME.
But the police have their side of the story too. When the bad guys have fire power at least equal to what police departments issue... when Islamic extremists are shooting their victims at night clubs and parties by the dozens... we are hard pressed to advise them to go lightly.
Indeed, the decision of the Dallas PD to monitor the march sans riot gear no doubt contributed to the death toll last night... proving again to them that they need to be well armed and may be justified in shooting first. Juries in Minnesota and Louisiana no doubt will have an opportunity to decide if that was the right decision in this week's two tragedies.
Meanwhile, black and white, police and suspect, are chained together in a dance of death in this country. We all are caught in the vortex of a vicious whirlpool:
Poverty, lack of education and lack of good jobs contribute to decisions of young men to go into the drug trade and other criminal activities. Gangs fight for territory in barrios and ghettos. White extremists hate people of color and immigrants of all colors, while Islamic extremists apparently hate all the rest of us. And the NRA is against anyone who thinks Americans shouldn't be permitted to own any sort of firepower they fancy... up to and including an atomic cannon, I presume.
The reaction to crime and terrorism by the police is to arm themselves accordingly and come in shooting, when a threat of deadly force seems to present itself... no matter how ambiguous the circumstances actually are.
The black community predictably and understandably reacts by taking to the streets... and some go further, taking up arms against the police, as happened last night.
I would love to believe that we as a nation can break this vicious circle. But if the events in Sandy Hook didn't do it, I don't think the events of this long-hot summer will make much of a difference either.
Another memory looms as I write this: the assassinations and riots of 1968, especially at the Democratic convention in Chicago that summer. I dread what may happen here in Philadelphia and/or in Cleveland later this month. God help us all!
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