This article is from the source 'washpo' and was first published or seen on . It last changed over 40 days ago and won't be checked again for changes.

You can find the current article at its original source at http://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/in-michael-browns-home-town-a-pause-to-listen--and-then-outrage/2014/11/24/10976ba8-743a-11e4-a755-e32227229e7b_story.html?wprss=rss_homepage

The article has changed 3 times. There is an RSS feed of changes available.

Version 0 Version 1
In Michael Brown’s home town, a pause to listen — and then outrage In Michael Brown’s home town, a pause to listen — and then outrage
(about 3 hours later)
FERGUSON, Mo. — After months of tension, marches and sporadic violence, and following the unbearable anxiety of waiting in the past few days, there was a surreal pause a little past 8 p.m. local time Monday on the streets of Michael Brown’s home town. FERGUSON, Mo. — After months of tension, marches and sporadic violence, and then the unbearable anxiety of waiting over the past few days, there was a surreal pause just past 8 p.m. local time Monday on the streets of Michael Brown’s home town.
Hundreds of protesters blocking the street were as solemn and quiet as the officers in a long line behind a barricade. At the center of the crowd blocking the avenue in front of police headquarters, in a car with a masked man at the wheel, someone turned up the radio so the demonstrators could hear the prosecutor’s news conference.
Inside a car parked with a masked man behind the wheel, someone turned up the radio so the crowd could hear the prosecutor’s news conference. The hundreds of protesters became as solemn and quiet as the officers posted in a long line behind a barricade. The prosecutor’s voice droned. The crowd leaned in to hear.
The prosecutor’s voice droned. The crowd leaned in to hear.
And then — pandemonium.And then — pandemonium.
“It’s legal to kill unarmed black men in America!” shouted the man with the gas mask, known as T. Dubb. “It’s legal to kill unarmed black men in America!” shouted a man known as T. Dubb standing on top of the car with a gas mask slung over his baseball cap. Shortly, he would need the mask.
A portion of the crowd peeled off and sprinted toward the barricade. Several water bottles were hurled at the officers, who batted them away with plastic shields. The crowd began chanting obscenities. A portion of the crowd peeled off and sprinted toward the barricade. Several water bottles were hurled at the officers, who batted them away with plastic shields. The protesters began chanting obscenities.
After the pause for the prosecutor, the crowd had forgotten to obey the pause requested by the Brown family — 4.5 minutes of silence before protests began, to mark the 4.5 hours his body lay on Canfield Drive. With that pause for the prosecutor, they had forgotten the one requested by the Brown family — 4.5 minutes of silence before the demonstrations began, to mark the 4.5 hours his body lay on Canfield Drive.
Soon South Florissant Avenue was a chaotic scene of shifting lines of police and protesters, moments of calm and minutes of brief panic and anger as some demonstrators taunted police and others fled, only to surge back again. The majority of protesters were peacefully passionate. Police fired tear gas. Two police cars were engulfed in flames. Glass from half a dozen smashed shop windows — among them a beauty shop, a hardware store, a Chinese restaurant, a dentist office — glittered in the gleam of police spotlights and television cameras.
There was little looting here, except for the bewigged mannequins that young men dragged from the beauty shop into the street.
“I feel like the verdict was unfair, that it shouldn’t have taken so long to reach it,” said Duane Coats, a calm voice amid the cries and profane jeers, an elder with the Christian Faith Center. His task, he said, was to stop protesters from throwing bottles and persuade them to stick to peaceful actions. Protest organizers had deployed him and other clergy members to the likely hot spots in greater St. Louis to try to urge nonviolence.“I feel like the verdict was unfair, that it shouldn’t have taken so long to reach it,” said Duane Coats, a calm voice amid the cries and profane jeers, an elder with the Christian Faith Center. His task, he said, was to stop protesters from throwing bottles and persuade them to stick to peaceful actions. Protest organizers had deployed him and other clergy members to the likely hot spots in greater St. Louis to try to urge nonviolence.
“I need to be here with my people,” Carlos Ball, another demonstrator, who was holding a poster with a picture of his brother, Cary, who he said was killed by police in St. Louis in 2013. “It’s the same struggle. I’ve got two sons, nieces and nephews. If it takes my fighting for them so they can live and be peaceful, that’s what I got to do.” “I need to be here with my people,” Carlos Ball, a demonstrator who was holding a poster with a picture of his brother, Cary, who he said was killed by police in St. Louis in 2013. “It’s the same struggle. I’ve got two sons, nieces and nephews. If it takes my fighting for them so they can live and be peaceful, that’s what I got to do.”
Earlier, just before the announcement, the crowds were much sparser at locations that have become totemic stopping points for supporters and mourners. Rodney Jones took a 360-degree panoramic video of the corner of West Florissant and Ferguson avenues. He grew up here, moved a short distance away and came back to make sure his parents were safe. Officers moved up and down the street, attempting to clear parts of the crowd and making several arrests.
“I came to see what the reaction is,” he said. “This is uncharted waters for everybody.” “How am I under arrest for arson, I don’t even have a lighter? I didn’t do anything. Tell me who saw me?” screamed Robert Kalbfell, who said he was a part time university student who lives in Ferguson as officers led him to the back of a lock-up van.
Through his viewfinder, he could see knots of young men beginning to cluster in the parking lot of the McDonald’s and in shopping strips where most of the businesses have plywood over the windows — a defense against possible looters — even though they remain open. The McDonald’s was locked early on this night. So was the liquor store where Brown made his last stop before walking down Florissant, turning right on Canfield and encountering Officer Darren Wilson. “I didn’t do anything!” He yelled. “Someone help me.”
Around 10:30 p.m., officers attempted to clear even more of the crowd — pushing them up the road toward Marley’s, a local watering hole where regulars sat behind locked doors watching the action both on television screens and through glass windows.
As they tried to force the demonstrators to move, some officers had heated exchanges with members of the clergy who attempted to serve as intermediaries. Officers pushed them aside and demanded the crowd move from the sidewalk.
“Ron Johnson is getting a call from me tomorrow,” declared Pastor Robert White, who leads a congregation in downtown St. Louis and was wearing a bright orange “Clergy United” T-shirt. He was referring to Johnson, the Missouri Highway Patrol captain. “This proves that all of that training was just training in how to arrest people, not how to de-escalate.”
At nearby Wellspring United Methodist Church, volunteer medics brought two women suffering from the effects of tear gas to recuperate.
Earlier, just before the announcement of the grand jury decision, the crowds were much sparser at locations that have become totemic stopping points for supporters and mourners. Rodney Jones took a 360-degree panoramic video of the corner of West Florissant and Ferguson avenues. He grew up here, moved a short distance away and came back to make sure his parents were safe.
“I came to see what the reaction is,” Jones said. “This is uncharted waters for everybody.”
Within hours, a nearby building would be in flames. But for now, through his viewfinder, Jones could see knots of young men beginning to cluster in the parking lot of the McDonald’s and in shopping strips where most of the businesses have plywood over their windows — a defense against possible looters — even though they remain open. The McDonald’s was locked early on this night. So was the liquor store where Brown made his last stop before walking down Florissant, turning right on Canfield and encountering Officer Darren Wilson.
On toward Canfield, the boarded-up chop suey restaurant was doing a brisk business and planned to stay open at least until the decision was announced. “After that, I don’t know,” said the guy slinging chicken fried rice and egg-drop soup.On toward Canfield, the boarded-up chop suey restaurant was doing a brisk business and planned to stay open at least until the decision was announced. “After that, I don’t know,” said the guy slinging chicken fried rice and egg-drop soup.
A small group of residents gathered on Canfield, beside the memorial of stuffed animals and flowers in the middle of the street. A man who would give only his middle name, Akeem, because he said he was too outspoken for his own safety, marched around the memorial hundreds of times in the hour before the decision was announced. A small group of residents gathered on Canfield, beside the memorial of stuffed animals and flowers near the spot where Brown fell. A man who would give only his middle name, Akeem, because he said he was too outspoken for his own safety, marched around the memorial hundreds of times in the hour before the decision was announced.
“They gotta stop killing black people for nothing,” he said. At 30, he has a 1-year-old son. “Fifteen years from now, he could be walking down the street and he gets executed.”“They gotta stop killing black people for nothing,” he said. At 30, he has a 1-year-old son. “Fifteen years from now, he could be walking down the street and he gets executed.”
Protest groups said they had scouted locations around the area for demonstrations and civil disobedience. The clergy members fanned out to try to counsel calm amid gathering crowds. Legal observers were on hand to take notes on any confrontations with police. And young residents belonging to an activist collective called Copwatch carried video cameras to document police actions. Protest groups said they had scouted locations throughout the area for demonstrations and civil disobedience. Clergy members fanned out to try to counsel calm amid gathering crowds. Legal observers were on hand to take notes on any confrontations with police. And an activist collective of young residents called Copwatch carried video cameras to document police actions.
Unlike the first furious wave of demonstrations in the weeks after Brown’s killing — which included looting, the burning of one business and occasional gunfire, and which also featured heavily armed police firing tear gas and rubber projectiles at demonstrators — this time, protesters and police have had 3 1/2 months to plan and prepare. Organizers and authorities held out hope that the preparations, as well as recent negotiations over rules of engagement, would lead to more peaceful action in the streets after the grand jury decision. The hope had been to avoid a repeat of the first furious wave of demonstrations in the weeks after Brown’s killing — which included looting, the burning of one business and occasional gunfire. Then, heavily armed police fired tear gas and rubber projectiles at demonstrators.
Local protest groups have held thousands of hours of training for hundreds of supporters in peaceful direct action and understanding their legal rights. They have distributed information about jail support and lawyers. This time, police and protesters had 3 1/2 months to plan and prepare. Organizers and police had hoped that their recent negotiations over rules of engagement would lead to more peaceful action in the streets after the grand jury decision.
County and state police, meanwhile, have been training in how to handle civil disobedience and de-escalate encounters with demonstrators. And they have spent hundreds of thousands of dollars stockpiling tear gas and riot gear. The National Guard was to be deployed at numerous locations, including shopping centers, to protect property. Local protest groups conducted thousands of hours of training for hundreds of supporters in peaceful direct action and understanding their legal rights. They distributed information about support if they are jailed and available lawyers.
The protest movement is sprawling and decentralized, a diverse coalition of newly engaged young activists and more traditional religious and social justice groups. Perhaps the largest cohort within the movement is young African Americans from the northern part of St. Louis County, which includes Ferguson and neighboring communities. But it also includes seasoned organizers from across the country who have been imparting their experience with colorful and creative tactics designed to get attention without violence. A defining feature has been the alliances forged across racial and class divides. County and state police, meanwhile, trained in how to handle civil disobedience and de-escalate encounters with demonstrators.
The activists are already looking beyond Michael Brown, who they see as one name in a tragic roster of young black males killed by police, including 12-year-old Tamir Rice, fatally shot by officers Saturday in Cleveland while carrying a toy gun. They fervently hope that the energy swirling in Ferguson will power a sustained movement to address racial profiling, how minority neighborhoods are policed, and other perceived injustices in the criminal-justice system. By midnight Monday, however, the best laid plans still resulted in flames, window smashing, tear gas and more than two dozen arrests.