Cable news channels of all stripes and colors have directed your attention to Ferguson, Mo., where the gap between cops and the people they're paid to protect has been distilled into a caricature-laden morality play.
There is a certain satisfaction that comes with witnessing a tragedy from afar. Distance allows us to form up along bright, clearly drawn lines. We become detached cheerleaders for this side or that, for Fox News or CNN.
But bring Ferguson — or something like it – closer to home, and the complicated details heave into view.
On Monday, the same day that the governor of Missouri activated the National Guard, the cream of the Savannah police department stood in front of reporters and toted up the city’s weekend civilian-on-civilian casualty list: Nine shot, two fatally.
Not one case of gunfire was related to another, but they shared something disturbing. “We’re troubled by the number of incidents, as well as the fact that many of the victims of these shootings have been uncooperative with investigators, patrol officers and detectives,” said Jack Lumpkin, who heads up Savannah and Chatham County’s merged police force.
A code of silence has cut off many African-Americans who live on Savannah’s west side from the people assigned to protect them. They prefer to handle such things themselves.
“Savannah’s not a particularly violent city. But it seems that a lot of folks want to take matters into their own hands and use firearms,” said Major Larry Branson.
The code extends beyond the police. Early this month, a murder suspect walked when a key witness to a club slaying refused to testify. The suspect is free, and the witness is doing 280 days for contempt of court.
Savannah is not Ferguson, where a nearly all-white power structure and police force oversee a majority African-American community, and where law enforcement is considered an important source of city revenue. In Savannah, a third of the police force is African-American. The mayor and police chief are both black. Political power is shared.
And yet, just as in Ferguson, a canyon separates the police from many of the policed in Savannah. Gangs have become a wedge between the two parties.
“This is becoming a problem. People are getting to victims and witnesses – with implied threats, with outright threats,” said Chatham County District Attorney Meg Heap.
Every unhappy city is unhappy in its own way, but the loss of faith is always an issue. “A level of trust is gone within the city and Chatham County with law enforcement,” Heap admitted.
The city’s former police chief is currently on trial in federal court, charged with accepting protection money from gamblers. Lumpkin, who headed up the Athens-Clarke County police force, was hired to clean up the mess.
Shortly before Lumpkin took the job, on Sept. 18, a 29-year-old black man was shot by a white Savannah officer.
Charles Smith had been arrested at a convenience store on several outstanding warrants, the worst of which was theft by larceny. He was handcuffed and placed in a patrol vehicle. Police say Smith kicked his way out of the car window and escaped, with an as-yet unexplained gun in hand. The GBI is investigating. Heap expects to present the case to a grand jury in late December or early January.
Smith’s death occurred in the shadow of the Michael Brown shooting in Ferguson. Protests were tamped down by local leaders, but for one brief moment, Savannah’s code of silence went public.
Chatham County Commissioner Yusuf Shabbaz called for a boycott of the convenience store where Smith was arrested on an outstanding warrant, accusing the owner – falsely, as it turned out – of snitching.
“How did the police officer know he was in that store? How did they know that? Because he called the police officers on him,” Shabbaz said. “This community is holding you accountable for this death.”
It takes two sides to make a canyon.
Talk to a prosecutors in metro Atlanta, and they will tell you that the city on the coast is not alone. They deal daily with the same trust gap. Yet Savannah does everything with extra flamboyance, and this may be another example.
But again, Savannah is not Ferguson. It is 300 miles closer, and thus 300 miles more real and 300 miles more nuanced. So close that detached cheerleading for Fox News or CNN is out of place. You’re a participant in this drama, like it or not.
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