September 25, 2020 – The fourteenth blog in the RestorationAge
It was a strange and dark day on Wednesday, September 23rd, when the much anticipated and highly unsatisfactory decision of the grand jury came down in the Breonna Taylor case. But no day could be darker than March 13th when this unarmed, young, professional woman was fatally wounded in her own apartment in a barrage of 32 bullets from inside and outside the apartment, shot by plainclothes LMPD officers.
Allegedly the officers announced themselves, but Breonna and her boyfriend, Kenneth Walker, only heard the sounds of the battering ram as the police forcefully entered the apartment around midnight. Once inside, police opened fire in return of a single shot by Kenneth, who’s gun is licensed and who believed to be defending himself and Breonna from intruders. All facts that could have easily been verified if the police had been wearing body cameras.
The police were there on a warrant to search for drugs and other evidence of which they found none. It seems unlikely that Mr. Walker would have fired at the men if he had known they were cops, especially knowing that they wouldn’t find anything incriminating in the residence. Tragic is the least of the words I could use.
I didn’t know how dark all this was at the time, as I was shortly coming home from work permanently to shelter in place because of the Coronavirus pandemic that was already upon us. I was frantically trying to figure out how to get my daughter home from her Boston school safely. At the time, those were big fish to fry. Little did I know that a tragic and avoidable series of events had unfolded that would shape my beloved Louisville like nothing ever has.
I personally have no control over what happened that fateful night. I can’t even fathom how I would feel if my own child had been the center of this nightmare; taken away from me forever without receiving any justice for my or my innocent daughter’s sacrifice. Let’s be candid; cash settlements mean nothing. When something terrible happens to anyone we love, we want someone to pay for it, usually in flesh. That’s human nature.
What happened March 13th is not okay. And it’s not going away. My own plan of action happens in four parts. One, I will not forget to #SayHerName over and over as we all fight for changes in our law and justice systems. Two, I will make sure to get out and VOTE for people who believe in the same changes that I feel are needed. Three, I will make sure that people in my own community and social circles know that I support peaceful protest and the ability of people to express their first amendment rights. Suppressing those rights, even by police, is a violation of civil rights. Four, I will continue to volunteer where and how I can to bring love and care to all parts of our beautiful city. This is where we live and we should all be taking care of it and of each other.
I still don’t believe that all of the facts have come to light and that there will be further actions taken against the people involved this case, but we will have to wait to see what is revealed in the coming months. Regardless, Breonna has left a huge legacy of action in her short life. She has lifted up many people around the world in their revolve to insist on needed change, here and now. I pray for her mother, Tamika. I guarantee she wishes it were some other family in this spotlight; some other family who had to make the ultimate sacrifice for change.
We will be okay. But it takes everybody. Question more. Expect more. Love one another. And VOTE!