Today, at 10:15 a.m., there’s a memorial service at OPD headquarters for the 55 fallen officers who have given their lives in service to the people of Oakland over the decades. These brave officers deserve our respect. May their memories be a blessing.
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Years ago, I parked my car on Shattuck Avenue in downtown Berkeley, on a sunny Saturday afternoon, to do some shopping. When I returned to my car I saw two young men inside. Approaching closer, I saw one of them prying my stereo out of the dashboard, while the second man kept watch in the passenger seat.
The window was rolled down. I leaned down and, rather naively, asked what they were doing. The man in the passenger seat suddenly got out of the car and came after me with a long screwdriver whose point had been chiseled into a spear. Then followed a chase. I ran out into Shattuck, trying to wave drivers down, but by that time the two thieves had returned to their own car, which now came barreling down Shattuck, trying to run me over. I escaped onto the center divide. The getaway car got away.
Fortunately a good Samaritan, another driver, stopped and came to my assistance. She said she’d seen the whole thing, including their attempt to run me over, and had gotten a license plate number and would be glad to be a witness. I called the Berkeley police, reported the incident, and a few days later, they called me back, when the following conversation ensued.
Berkeley police: “We traced the car to the owner. We know exactly who they are: a gang of serial thieves. But we can’t arrest them, because the District Attorney will never file charges—even with your eyewitness’s account of attempted murder. You know what I suggest?”
Me: “No, what?”
Berkeley police: “You have blood?”
Me [puzzled]. “Blood? What do you mean?”
Berkeley police: “Blood. You know, friends, family.”
Me: “Why?”
Berkeley police: “I’ll give you the address where the guys live. You all go down there some night, with your blood, and carry some baseball bats and smash up their vehicles.”
Needless to say, I was shocked. This is Berkeley Police Department, telling me the only way I can avenge the wrong done to me is to turn vigilante? I suppose I don’t have to tell you I declined to do what the cop had suggested. I never got any justice for the harm I suffered.
Now here we are, all these years later, and people go through the same thing all the time. There is, I think, a collective yearning for justice, for these awful thugs to be dragged into court and sentenced for their crimes, but little has changed over the years. Lenient DAs refuse to indict, and lenient policies allow repeat offenders, like the ones that stole my car stereo system, to walk with no, or minimal, punishment.
Here in Oakland, the cops pretty much know exactly who the bad guys are: the repeat offenders, the carjackers and home invaders and murderers. Let me repeat: they know who the bad guys are. But they’re prevented from doing anything about it by laws or policies that prevent them acting on such knowledge. The courts demand absolute proof of crime—and often, absolute proof is lacking, even though everyone knows the perps are guilty. So what can we do about criminals whose lawyers shield them behind their Constitutional rights when even the lawyers know they’re monsters?
I know this raises all sorts of problems, especially with Trump’s ICE “disappearing” people with no hearing, warrant or even specific charges. We do have to protect our civil liberties. But those civil liberties are also at risk due to predators who have no respect for us, our rights, or the law. We can’t allow them to remain free, if the police know their identities and addresses. I don’t know the exact solution, but can we please start a conversation about this?
Steve Heimoff