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links.net : law : summer 1995

Attempted Arson

Sunday night, pull the Pinto into Safeway on Market. I have the sweetest parking space, one from handicapping.

Out of my car, hear the sirens, sounds, see the lights, not just a public safety sound and light show but closer angry chants and slogans - freedom and protection from oppressors, like the black clad cop squadron lines quickly flanking the thinning crowd. I sight torches, the energy level is high, cars and vans like reverse roach motels cops litter the street, alongside, behind the marchers.

"No Justice! No Peace!"

I am pushed away from the protest onto the sidewalk by a cop - "Get on the sidewalk!" I am furiously scribbling.

Drive faltered, the crowd has been routed to a side street, residential, narrow, where a ring of cops has surrounded them. approx. 9.40pm

nothing like a PR-24 across the chest to piss you off.

Still on the sidewalk, observing, officer K. Martin nightstick chest pushes me onto street - "Get on the street!" - I am now part of the encircled throng. In fact, I'm incensed - nothing like a PR-24 across the chest to piss you off.

I demand his badge number, he ignores me, looks away. I demand it again, and he looks threatening, silent.

The crowd is stopped - directional energy channeled vocal, incensed -

"Free Mumia Abu-Jamal! End the Racist Death Penalty!"

drums and chanting and high spirits, curtained by shoulder to shoulder riot geared police.

Our energy meets theirs, no potential for dialogue - what do people want? What is to be achieved?

We have stopped agitating for anything besides home - chanting "Let us disperse!"

While the crowd vociferously vocalizes, a young man weaves through the protestors crooning to the cops - "We understand you've got a job to do, and we thank you for be-ing coool."

The chant changes, to my alarm,

"[arrest] all of us or none of us!"

Beyond the line of servants and protectors, I see journalists and onlookers being herded away.

"Malcom Martin Mumia!"

The police seem to be encouraging physical contact, asking us to test them, so I start a chant -

"The longer you keep us here, the weirder this gets"

The crowd, mixed youth and grunge, older activists, is being pacifically urged from within not to play into their hands.

A quieter gathering of folks is being outnumbered by arriving police teams ready for a riot, tight lines of baton weilding defenders of the social order.

The cops are standing in obvious battle position, ready to repel fierce freak attack.

Meanwhile, the crowd is singing, "Raaahxanne - you don't have to put on the red light..."

Standing near crowd border, I hear Sgt. Cadigan (#470) walking behind his troops, encouraging militarism - "Expect a rush barrier - stand tight." - "If you get a little rush in front of you just hold it." - "Retain integrity." The cops are standing in obvious battle position - legs spread, batons pointed at us, ready to repel fierce freak attack.
Meanwhile, the crowd is singing, "Raaahxanne - you don't have to put on the red light..." Stairway to Heaven, I Left My Heart in SF, and laughing, "Bad Boys, Bad Boys, whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do when they come for you..."
People have started sitting down - they are quickly picked up, plasticuffed, and lead away, and cops move in to take their place.

I hear some copspeak - "I've got an X and two Ys, gimme another X." - chromosomes, gender.

They have started assembly line rapid removal, taking one protestor at a time, plasticuffing them, photographing them, leading them into vans.

Several vans are filled, they bring in a bus. Public transportation, we ride for free.

I walk up to the front of the line, they take me in - "You are being arrested for attempted arson, urging a riot, and jaywalking." No discussion, no rights, just hands too tightly cuffed together, I smile wide, they're polaroiding me twice.

"You are being arrested for attempted arson, urging a riot, and jaywalking."

Loaded on the bus, I am the last person, fifty fun-lovin' folks on their way to detention.

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