I am not sure I know how I feel yet about ending the day near where someone was being shot. I wrote this account for the Oakland police, intending to take it over to one of the multitude of policemen who descended on the scene, but my printer doesn’t function just now so I emailed it to a police email address and called and told them there where they could find it.
TO THE POLICE:
10 November 2011
I dropped by Occupy Oakland to see how it was going, but did not get near it. I noticed the City Hall clock was at 5 o’clock. I was standing next to the BART elevator entrance where a Asian-American man was standing. I could see along the line of shops opposite Occupy Oakland in that plaza, and very soon heard what sounded like several firecrackers but I feared they were gunshots. The Asian-American man felt convinced that they were gunshots, and that was obvious as people were scattered away from a spot about 30 feet from me.
I did not witness the shooting, but two men rushed right by me, and it seemed obvious that they were running from a crime. They were African-American, wearing dark clothes, but there is very little light there so I would not be able to identify them, except that I think they were about 5’8” or 5’9”. One or both of them seemed to shoving something into their pockets as if to conceal them. The two seemed very pleased with whatever they had done, had an air of triumph. They ran away from 14th Street in the direction of 13th Street, but I lost sight of them immediately with so many people in that intersection. Soon a man rushed up whom I supposed was a merchant. (The Asian-American man, for some reason, felt the shooter had something to do with a store along there.) The merchant was pointing and shouting in the direction the men had run. The Asian-American shouted that one of the men could be identified by some white garment – I think it was white trousers.
Many people surrounded the gunshot victim,and it was obvious that he was receiving artifical respiration.
Meanwhile masses of police cars and emergency vehicles were arriving, sirens blaring.
The police arrived, and a policeman continued the artificial respiration. The police asked the people there to disperse so I went home.
The streets around there were being blocked off by police cars, evidently imagining it was some mass violent incident.
At home I heard on the news that they mentioned just one man, but there was that second man with him as he ran away, perhaps a friend, and both pleased by what they had done.
The shooting clearly had nothing to do with Occupy Oakland, an empty and unoccupied space existed between the shooting incident and Occupy Oakland. That intersection was rough before Occupy Oakland arrived so that late at night I never get out at the 12th Street BART station as it often seems that some tough is chasing another tough.
Later it was revealed on the news that it was a young African-American man who had been killed. It is sad that I still don't know his name or why he was killed as it seemed, so casually. Reminds me of yesterday when I was at the V.A. Hospital. So many veterans have "turned hippy" in their dress, but I sat next to a man thoroughly identified by cap and jacket as a Vietnam War veteran. I said, "Looks as if Israel and the U.S. are going to start a war with Iran." He replied, "Might as well." The casual habit of killing.