‘ America’s Killing Fields’ by Kathleen Parker
Horror. Shock. Disbelief. Numbness. Grief. Anger. And terrible sadness.
These fractured thoughts were all I could muster upon waking Friday to news of the ambush on Dallas police. They were still fresh in my mind from the night before when I’d turned in early, exhausted by the images of 32-year-old Philando Castile dying in Minnesota after a police officer shot him.
As we all know by now, Castile was African American and the officer was not. It started as a routine stop for a broken taillight and ended in what has become a routine shooting followed by a routine headline.
Black man shot by police officer. How many times must we read those words?
Just 24 hours earlier, another black man, Alton Sterling, 37, was shot to death by police while being restrained in Baton Rouge.
Like Sterling, Castile did have a gun. Castile also had a concealed-carry permit, which he apparently told the officer as soon as he was stopped. Why would someone tell a police officer he had a gun if he intended to use it?
Castile was reaching for his driver’s license and registration when the officer opened fire, says his girlfriend, Diamond Reynolds.
Reynolds used her cellphone to film the aftermath of the shooting, careful to address the officer as “sir” and follow his instructions. Over and over I watched the video, trying to imagine being in that car, while at the same time feeling shame about watching a stranger who is mortally wounded.
Nothing is more intimate than death, which we all hope to face with dignity in the comforting presence of loved ones. Castile had no such luck. Instead, he was surrounded by millions of onlookers, most of whom, I feel certain, suffered with and for him.
“[Expletive]!” “[Expletive]!” “[Expletive]!” On the video, we hear the officer repeating the F-word as he realizes what has happened. Reynolds is saying, “Please don’t tell me this, Lord. Please, Jesus, don’t tell me that he’s gone. . . . Please, officer, don’t tell me that you just did this to him.”
My God.
Friday morning, Castile’s mother bore into the television camera. She said people can look into her eyes, at that point 48 hours without sleep, and know that she’s not going away until justice is served. Across the country, protesters had gathered peacefully Thursday evening to demonstrate against the shootings. Click here for full article.
