"...Silent About Things That Matter."

This was supposed to be a post about the Yankees. And for that matter, this was supposed to be up last Thursday.

But then the world shifted under our feet. No, I’m not talking about the release of Number Forty-Five’s finances that show him as a debt-ridden tax cheat, and I’m not talking about the death of Ruth Bader-Ginsburg and the imminent screwjob surrounding her replacement.

I’m talking about the grand jury decision in the case of Jonathan Mattingly, Brett Hankison, and Myles Cosgrove, and the killing of Breonna Taylor.

The decision came down, and I watched as people did a host of legal and moral gymnastics to justify why this young woman died, why she needed to die. I’ve seen a cover-up defended and upheld. I’ve seen the neighbor’s walls receive more justice than this woman’s family. And I’ve seen that the response to that very notion be as callous as “well, they got paid, right?”

I sat and I seethed for days because I didn’t know what else to do. Every time I thought about writing something about baseball or some book I read, I got a touch of heartburn. Then I came across this quote:

Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.

It made me feel like a punk for not saying anything. It’s a few days late, true, but writing this feels right, so here’s what I have to say.

Right is right. Wrong is wrong. We expect adults in a cooperative society know the difference.

At the direction of a no-knock warrant, the police entered a private residence without letting anyone inside know they were police. There were 17 people who corroborated this, and the one person who said otherwise has since recanted.

A legal occupant of that residence, thinking a burglary was in progress, fired a warning shot at unidentified intruders.

Rather than announce themselves as police at that point, they fired back. Initially, it was thought that the legal resident, Kenneth Walker, shot one of the officers in question in the leg. Ballistics reports are showing that’s inaccurate, and that officer’s injury was likely a result friendly fire.

They fired blindly into the apartment—missing the guy who shot at them—and hit Ms. Taylor seven times in a different room. Whether or not she was asleep was irrelevant.

They person they were looking for at this residence per the warrant was ALREADY IN CUSTODY.

Those are the known and relevant facts. It doesn’t matter that Ms. Taylor used to date a drug dealer. If everyone got shot over shitty choices in exes, we’d all be dead.

It doesn’t matter if she was an EMT at the time or not. She didn’t need to be a saint for her death to have been wrong.

There is no evidence that supports the notion that she was a drug dealer herself. Even if she was, they weren’t there for her.

After the facts, things get hazy. The man they were looking for came out and stated that either the DA or the cops tried to offer some kind of deal if he implicated his late ex-girlfriend in his dealings. There was an investigation made into Kenneth Walker—not in the legal defense of his home, but into whether he was a drug dealer. There are now conflicting reports as to whether Officer Hankison instructed anyone to turn off their body cams at any point.

But the only thing that anyone was indicted for was “wanton endangerment.” For firing into the wall.

The thing is that the cops aren’t solely to blame. A district attorney asked for that warrant. A judge signed it. It was never voided after they caught the guy they were looking for. The institution failed on every level, and I don’t know why I’m so shocked, angry, and sad that the institution isn’t holding itself accountable.

This should have been a post about baseball. And perhaps there will be something about baseball tomorrow. But today there are things that matter more.

#BLM #justice #peace #drking #breonnataylor #writing #travesty #law #cops