I, Witness

Civil rights lawyer Michael Tarif Warren was driving down Vanderbilt Avenue with his wife, Evelyn.  They saw a bevy of cops stop and cuff a young black man.  Once the cops had him under control, they did what cops sometimes do.  The tune up.

We don’t know why the cops felt the need to give the kid the tune up.  Maybe he had hit one of them before running.  Maybe it was because he had the audacity to run.  Maybe it was because he made them run after him, leaving their donuts and coffee behind.  Who knows.  But they felt the need to show the kid who’s boss. Over and over.

Michael Warren was not an ordinary New Yorker, the type who let Kitty Genovese die and about whom Phil Ochs sang.  Michael Warrant was a human being, and did what a human being was compelled to do.  He got out of his car, told the police he was a lawyer, and that they should just arrest him and bring him in.  He told them to stop kicking and beating the kid.  And he paid the price for his humanity.

The news account tells the complete story.  But for those of you who refuse to believe that bad things can happen (and who are not likely to be New Yorkers), understand this.  Michael and Evelyn Warren took their lives into their hands when they went to help a young man they didn’t know.  I’m sure they realized the risk they were taking, but took it anyway.  Maybe their intervention made the difference between a young man alive today and a sidebar story in tomorrow’s New York Post.  I’m sure the police would tell the story about how the vicious perp’s face attacked the cops feet while he lay handcuffed on the ground.  “Six cops were injured and went to the hospital with sprained toes, out for 18 months on disability,” goes the typical press release.  “The evil interloper was believe to be drunk, high on drugs and dressed in peculiar clothing…” It’s much easier to smear the victim than stop the brutality.

I don’t know Michael Tarif Warren.  He apparently is quite political, which comes as no surprise.  I don’t know his politics, and I have no idea whether I agree with his politics.  But if I was the kid lying on the ground being beaten, I doubt that I would ask him about his politics before I would accept his aid. 

Lawyers have bar associations.  Bar associations give out “Best Lawyer” awards.  Usually, we pick attorneys to receive awards because they can bring in a few extra tables of paying guests.  I don’t know if Michael Warren can bring in any paying guests, but I nominate him for an award.  Not as a lawyer, but as a human being.  Maybe some bar association can find some room to honor someone who actually did something worthy of the honor.  Not about his politics, but because he risked his own safety for someone else.  It’s something worthy of admiration.


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3 thoughts on “I, Witness

  1. Nicole Black

    Yet another incident that supports my absolute fear of the power of the Man. My days as PD taught me one thing–Cops scare me. And then some. They’ve got too much pent up aggression and rage. And way too much power, at least during the time that they beat the crap out of you.

    Sure, they may get called on it later, but that doesn’t do you much good while you’re getting pummelled unmercilessly.

    I steer clear of them and rarely even look at them if I can help it. I may be a law-abiding citizen, but that really means very little if some random cop (incorrectly) decides otherwise…

  2. Nicole Black

    And, yes, I now realize in retrospect that in my prior comment I made up a word while simultaneously using a double negative. Just fagheddaboudit. Ok?

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