If a fireman comes to my street and yells, "Get out of there," I'll more than likely listen to him.
So why is it that when police officers come to any street and yell, "Get out of there," or "Put your hands up," or "Stop," their targeted audience often mistakes that to mean, "Let's floor it?"
Quite honestly, I don't understand why police shootings cause as much controversy as they do. If a cop tells me to stop, then that's damn sure what I'll do. If someone doesn't listen, Johnny, you have my blessing to apprehend him in any manner you see necessary. Because if someone is thuggish enough not to listen to the ultimate local authority, I don't want him in my 'hood.
Through much of my freelance-like existence over 32 and a half years, some have accused me of playing by my own rules. But if a cop comes inside my home, and handcuffs me and tells me he's taking me into custody or that I'm under arrest, I will play by his rules. If I'm not under the influence of crack and alcohol, which James Taylor chose to be under, then hopefully I'll be coherent enough not to reach into my back pocket for a boxcutter knife, again, a move Taylor chose to make.
And most recently, if officers are pursuing me as I travel in a stolen Ford Explorer, I would have to, at some point, choose to cut my losses. I would not use the logic, as 16-year-old Mark Johnson's mother said he used, that I was scared, so I was trying to get away.
Scared?
Trying to get away?
Correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't that description usually translate into a charge formally known as resisting arrest? I'd be scared too. But then again, I was raised in a family that taught me that stealing cars and subsequently trying to elude police is wrong. I am white, but I wasn't rich, nor did I come from a two-parent home. I grew up living with siblings, a mom who worked and not much money. Perhaps my condition then wasn't too significantly different from that of many who commit crimes these days. But unlike them, I fail to attribute them to the vicious cycle that is ruled by white police officers who just can't wait to shoot another innocent black motorist.
It truly comes down to choices. If you think you can do a better job of policing the community, then sign up. Until then, don't demand to live on safer streets one day and criticize the way officers provide that safety to you the next. I don't dispute that some officers have some testosterone issues. Some, however, is not the same as many, or most, or all. Would you have handled the James Taylor situation less tragically? How would you have handled it?
When people ask me what I'd do if I won a million dollars, if my Cleveland Indians ever win a World Series or if Jennifer Garner knocks on my door, I engage in fun conversations about the possibilities. It's easy to fantasize. But if someone asked me what I'd do if I found out I had a terminal disease or what I'd do if I was an officer in Taylor's apartment on Dec. 5, it's difficult to speculate. A test like that requires an amount of psychological toughness that I can only dream of.
Few of us have handled guns in our lives; even fewer have pointed them at someone who was threatening our safety. You don't know what kind of psychological toughness you're made of until you're in Taylor's apartment. Until you're Mike O'Neil. Don't you dare pretend to know how you would have handled it. Don't you dare propose, like some local lawmakers are doing, to limit officers to two shots per confrontation. There's no formula to crime, criminals don't like math, and they sure as heck don't care about your boycott.
I've never met Officer O'Neil. Nor have I met Officer Shawn Kennedy, who shot Mark Johnson Thursday. But I can tell you one thing about each of them, however; they chose their profession, and I bet their neighbors feel safe.