The
People and the Police
William
grew up in Springfield, served in the Army, and was living downtown when he was
falsely imprisoned because of a mistaken identity.
I
was living at 308 Main Street, and it was a three-apartment building, and the
other apartment there was a William Railey,
and the policeman, his name was O’Brian, I went to school with him, and I
knew him from pool halls and all that. He come by one day, knocked at door, and
says is William here?
I
come down and he says, William I got a warrant for you, so I went upstairs, I
put my pants on, I put my shoes on, and I went to the jail. Then I had to go up
to the big court.
Did
you ask him what for? I thought it may be because of back child support. He
knew me, so I didn’t even look at the warrant or anything.
The
judge was Judge Hall. He went off into I done forge checks, and all that. And
he says what is your name, and I says
And
he says what is your social security number
I
was in jail over there for 35 days
When
I got released, people were telling me, sue! Sue. I went to Greg Goatley, and I
asked him if I could get false imprisonment against the police department,
because it would mess up his cases in town.
I
didn’t look at the paperwork.
He
seemed convinced that it was his fault because he had not looked at the
warrant. I found that hard to believe. It seemed to me that the system had the
responsibility to ensure they had the right person before they imprisoned him
for thirty-five days.
This
sounds like a bad sitcom or a tragic coincidence at worst, but it’s just the
latest in a long string of events, small and large, that created a mistrust and
miscommunication between the Black community and the legal system in
Springfield.
Tommie
Poole told me a story about how the same cop who arrested William had come to
their house one night almost thirty years ago, before Bryant was killed. He
told them that their son had robbed a pinball machine, when they knew that a
friend, whom she called “Piggy,” had given Bryant fifty cents.
Paul
O’Bryan was not prepared for the response he got from Australia Poole. A former
MP, Mr. Poole knew his rights and knew his son. He told the officer that his
son would not lie to him, and that if the officer had not seen what happened,
he had no right to accuse Bryant. He stood up to O’Bryan, and Tommie said, “He
never came around again after that.”
I’m
not sure whether this was before or after the cops stopped Mr. Poole on the way
to Lebanon, and called him, “boy.” He’s pretty sure, and so am I, that he was
stopped because he was a Black man driving a nice car. That phenomenon
continues. Just a few days ago, Questlove, a highly regarded musician and
founder of the Roots, posted on Twitter an account of being stopped in
Philadelphia because he was driving an expensive vehicle. Even fame and fortune
can’t protect you from racism, as the reign of Barack Obama revealed.
Tommie
added that at last, “All the things the polices have done, they are finally
being held accountable for.”
There
may have been more hope for that two years ago, but as officers have been
acquitted for the killings of unarmed Blacks, even when video evidence is
available, it has dimmed.
The
lack of resources and information for rural and small-town Blacks about how to
redress grievances is shameful. There are smart and savvy people who try to
stand up to the syndicate. As Tommie Poole said, “Everybody Black ain’t dumb.”
