The Shooting Gallery: Police Violence MEGATHREAD

[11B4V]

You have the right...to park in the Employees Only lot.

and pull a gun on you, if you don't have the right access credential.

[Ed Anger]

You have the right...to park in the Employees Only lot.

and pull a gun on you, if you don't have the right access credential.

Be sure to empty your clip

[Tonitrus]

You have the right...to park in the Employees Only lot.

and pull a gun on you, if you don't have the right access credential.

Be sure to empty your clip

Stop trying to clip people's wings.   

[CountDeMoney]

As an aside...You guys want to read a really good piece on inner-city violence, particularly in Baltimore--

http://bsun.md/2cHnpAG

It's long, and the first in a series, but it's got a lot of interactive features.  If you have the time, it's truly fascinating shit. 

Many of the guns are equipped with extended magazines, allowing a shooter to fire from a distance and "walk down" a victim, continuously firing. The sale of "extendos" with more than 10 rounds are banned in Maryland, where they are prized in street cultures, tucked under belts and into pants as a fashion statement. In Baltimore, police are finding up to 80 shell casings at a single crime scene.

Metropolitan Police Chief Cathy L. Lanier, who retired last month after more than a decade in Washington, keeps a photo of a 100-round magazine seized by police on her cellphone as a reminder of the firepower out there.

Law enforcement officials across the country say they've observed insidious circumstances that are difficult to quantify. Reckless shootings in the daytime. Vigilante justice and contract killers. Gang rules that codify when violence should be used — and street rules limiting violence against bystanders being ignored.

"The criminals are more brazen," said Baltimore police Maj. Donald Bauer, who leads the homicide unit.

While shooters' motives vary, experts and those caught in the crossfire note a ruthlessness on the streets where criminals with more sophisticated weaponry aren't just using guns to intimidate rivals or rob. They are using them to take people out with greater success.

In Baltimore and other cities with a deeply entrenched "no-snitching" ethos, the emphasis is on leaving behind no witnesses and no one to retaliate.

Some shit hasn't changed, but some shit has.

On the streets, particularly in poor, black neighborhoods, residents are witnessing increasingly deadly tactics. More shooters are aiming for the head and firing multiple rounds into victims.

In Baltimore, the number of fatal head shots rose steadily from about 13 percent two decades ago to 62 percent last year. Meanwhile, the number of cadavers with 10 or more bullets more than doubled in the past decade, according to the Maryland medical examiner's office, which tallied the bullet wounds at the request of The Sun.

Now, roughly two-thirds of city homicide victims are either shot in the head or multiple times. Many suffer both fates.

[Ed Anger]

[HVC]

Is that a grenade launcher on a hand gun? Bare with me, I'm a Canuck and gun illiterate.

[Ed Anger]

Is that a grenade launcher on a hand gun? Bare with me, I'm a Canuck and gun illiterate.

Yes. An example of "TacticaLOL".

[frunk]

The Sandy Hook Hoax

Long article about one of the victim's father's fight against the conspiracy theorists claiming that Sandy Hook never happened.

[Valmy]

The Sandy Hook Hoax

Long article about one of the victim's father's fight against the conspiracy theorists claiming that Sandy Hook never happened.

The internet is a scary place.

[Syt]

A look at one lovely facet of the prison industrial complex:

http://www.nytimes.com/2016/07/07/us/prisoner-transport-vans.html?hp&action=click&pgtype=Homepage&clickSource=story-heading&module=photo-spot-region&region=top-news&WT.nav=top-News

Private Prisoner Vans' Long Road of Neglect

In July 2012, Steven Galack, the former owner of a home remodeling business, was living in Florida when he was arrested on an out-of-state warrant for failing to pay child support. Mr. Galack, 46, had come to the end of a long downward spiral, overcoming a painkiller addiction only to struggle with crippling anxiety. Now, he was to be driven more than a thousand miles to Butler County, Ohio, where his ex-wife and three children lived, to face a judge.

Like dozens of states and countless localities, Butler County outsources the long-distance transport of suspects and fugitives. Mr. Galack was loaded into a van run by Prisoner Transportation Services of America, the nation's largest for-profit extradition company.

Crammed around him were 10 other people, both men and women, all handcuffed and shackled at the waist and ankles. They sat tightly packed on seats inside a cage, with no way to lie down to sleep. The air conditioning faltered amid 90-degree heat. Mr. Galack soon grew delusional, keeping everyone awake with a barrage of chatter and odd behavior. On the third day, the van stopped in Georgia, and one of two guards onboard gave a directive to the prisoners. "Only body shots," one prisoner said she heard the guard say. The others began to stomp on Mr. Galack, two prisoners said.

The guards said later in depositions that they had first noticed Mr. Galack's slumped, bloodied body more than 70 miles later, in Tennessee. A homicide investigation lasted less than a day, and the van continued on its journey. The cause of death was later found to be undetermined.

Every year, tens of thousands of fugitives and suspects — many of whom have not been convicted of a crime — are entrusted to a handful of small private companies that specialize in state and local extraditions.

A Marshall Project review of thousands of court documents, federal records and local news articles and interviews with more than 50 current or former guards and executives reveals a pattern of prisoner abuse and neglect in an industry that operates with almost no oversight.

Since 2012, at least four people, including Mr. Galack, have died on private extradition vans, all of them run by the Tennessee-based Prisoner Transportation Services. In one case, a Mississippi man complained of pain for a day and a half before dying from an ulcer. In another, a Kentucky woman suffered a fatal withdrawal from anti-anxiety medication. And in another, guards mocked a prisoner's pain before he, too, died from a perforated ulcer.

Robert Downs, the chief operating officer of P.T.S., declined to comment on the deaths. He said guards were instructed to contact local officials when a serious medical emergency arises. "Unless it's life or death, we can't open the cage on the vehicle," Mr. Downs said. "We don't know if they're setting us up for something." This concern was echoed by guards at several companies, who said prisoners often feigned illnesses and injuries.

Training for guards, many of whom are military veterans, is often limited to a tutorial on handcuffs and pepper spray and a review of policies and paperwork, leaving them unprepared for the hazards of driving a van full of prisoners. At least 60 prisoners have escaped from private extradition vehicles since 2000, including one who later stabbed a police officer and another who was accused of sexual assault on a minor and is still missing.

The companies are usually paid per prisoner per mile, giving them incentive to pack the vans and take as few breaks as possible. Crashes have killed a dozen prisoners and guards.

Operating primarily across the South and Midwest, guards travel up to weeks at a time along circuitous routes, typically picking up and dropping off prisoners in 15-passenger vans or sometimes minivans retrofitted with interior caging and darkened windows.

These vans do not have prisoner beds, toilets or medical services. Violent felons are mixed with first-time suspects. A plexiglass divider is usually the only thing separating women from men.

At least 14 women have alleged in criminal or civil court since 2000 that they were sexually assaulted by guards while being transported by these companies.

"Just stay in jail. It's better," said Lauren Sierra, 21, who said she was repeatedly sexually assaulted by a guard in 2014 while being transported by U.S. Corrections, a rapidly growing company registered in North Carolina.

Ms. Sierra, who is suing the company, was taken into custody after she faced charges, later dropped, that she used someone else's Bed, Bath & Beyond gift card. Dustin Baldwin, the executive director of U.S. Corrections, declined to comment beyond saying that the accusations had not been proved.

Because the vans cross state lines, accountability falls into a gray zone. Jurisdictions that hire the companies often disavow responsibility for prisoners not under their direct custody, and federal regulators have largely ignored the industry.

"It's like the airport shuttle from hell," said Zachary Raines, a former P.T.S. guard.

Strained Jails and Budgets

At a time when a swollen United States prison and jail population has strained law enforcement budgets, transport companies offer a significantly cheaper alternative to traditional extradition, in which local deputies are sent miles out of state for one person.

"Some agencies take huge advantage of the taxpayers' money by sending deputies 'on vacation' to extradite an inmate," said Mr. Baldwin of U.S. Corrections, and pay them "a considerable amount of overtime" for doing so. They also have to cover fuel costs or plane tickets and, often, hotel rooms.

Private vans can save considerably by picking up and dropping off other prisoners along the way, charging 75 cents to $1.50 a mile per prisoner.

Corrections departments in 26 states, law enforcement in cities such as Chicago, Atlanta and Las Vegas, and local agencies nationwide use extradition companies. Although about two dozen private prisoner transport companies have registered with the Department of Transportation, only seven have state-level extradition contracts, with P.T.S. having the most by far.

But maintaining tight profit margins depends on relentlessly shaving time and costs on the road, industry veterans said.

"You route the prisoner like a package, but miss a single deadline, and you lose money," said Kent Bradford, a former director of operations for TransCor America, a subsidiary of Corrections Corporation of America, the largest private prison company in the United States. TransCor stopped performing extraditions in 2008 because of liability and cost concerns, but still moves prisoners between C.C.A. locations.

Guards — who earn about $150 to $250 per 24-hour shift, and who rotate driving duty — are generally paid only while on the road. Because they often have to pay out-of-pocket for a hotel room, most said they rarely chose to stop.

Bunking overnight also requires finding a jail willing to offer beds and showers to prisoners, which is difficult because jails do not always want to house unknown prisoners from other jurisdictions.

"I'd have an exhaust fan installed in the hall to get that smell out," said David Osborne, who runs the Daviess County Detention Center in Kentucky, which used to be a P.T.S. hub for transferring and housing prisoners en route.

To keep up with demand, vans drive across as many as a dozen states on a single trip. "The bosses would be on the phone, saying, 'What, you can't do it? You can't push it, you can't make it to the next jail?' " said Fernando Colon, who worked as a guard for two years, first for a company that is now defunct and then for U.S. Corrections.

On most trips, every meal for days is a fast-food sandwich. Water is rationed and bathroom stops limited. Prisoners who cannot wait often urinate in bottles or on themselves, and sometimes defecate on the floor of the van, according to guards and lawsuits.

"People were screaming, complaining, passing out. I threw up," said Roberta Blake, 37, who spent two weeks in 2014 being transported by P.T.S. from California to Alabama, including a week in a stifling van.

Lacking both privacy and sanitary napkins, she had to use a cup in front of the male guards and prisoners when she began menstruating. After another prisoner ripped off her shirt, she spent the rest of the trip in a sports bra. Ms. Blake, whose account was confirmed by two other prisoners in the van, had been arrested on a warrant issued after she failed to return a rental car on time.

Medical Skills Not Required

For some prisoners, the ride ends in serious injury, or even death.

Michael Dykes, who has diabetes, had both of his legs amputated after three days in an Inmate Services Corporation van in July 2012. Mr. Dykes, who was facing theft and fraud charges stemming from a dispute over a construction project, said he had already been in declining health when he got into the van after spending nearly three weeks in a South Carolina jail with poor medical care. But once in transport to Missouri, his condition worsened, he said.

Black sores on his toes were exacerbated by pressure from ankle shackles, a lawsuit alleges, and his repeated requests for medical care were ignored. His insulin, which must be kept cold, was stored on the dashboard in the sun, Mr. Dykes said.

Randy Cagle Jr., the president of the Arkansas-based Inmate Services Corporation, denied the accusations. "We always follow protocol and get medical information when we pick an inmate up," he wrote in an email. "I am confident that we will be vindicated."

Mr. Cagle said in a brief phone interview that some prisoners lied or sued frivolously. "You are not going to get through this business without hurting people's feelings," he said. "You just have to remember to treat people fair."

When suspects are arrested on a warrant, they often spend considerable time in a local jail before being picked up for extradition. About a dozen guards from several transport companies said jails provided substandard medical care and little information about prisoners' health status or prescribed medications, which the guards are expected to dispense en route. Guards are not required by law to have any medical experience other than training in cardiopulmonary resuscitation.

"They did an hourlong class on their policies, taught us to put on handcuffs, gave us our uniforms and put us on the road. And then we're expected to deal with this stuff," said Kenneth Adams, one of two guards aboard a P.T.S. van in which Denise Isaacs, 54, died in Miami in 2014.

Like Mr. Galack, Ms. Isaacs began experiencing bizarre symptoms while on board: muttering, drooling and gasping. When she was unable to climb back into the van after a stop, the guards phoned P.T.S. headquarters. But their supervisors said to keep going, Mr. Adams told investigators with the Miami-Dade Police Department.

"I would have taken her to the hospital," the other guard, Kirk Westbrooks, said in an interview with The Marshall Project. "I wanted to."

Ms. Isaacs, who had been arrested on charges of violating probation on a theft conviction, died a few hours later in a Taco Bell parking lot. An autopsy later found that she had been experiencing delirium tremens caused by withdrawal from diazepam, an anti-anxiety medication that P.T.S. staff members said they were never informed she was taking.

The Miami-Dade police closed the investigation after determining that the death was from natural causes.

In January of this year, P.T.S. guards transporting William Culpepper Jr., 36, from Kentucky to Mississippi told officials at a stop at a company jail hub in Missouri that they believed he was faking stomach pains, according to a sheriff's report. Mr. Culpepper, who was wanted for a parole violation, died minutes later from what the coroner handling his case called a "perfectly treatable" perforated ulcer.

It was the second time in two years that a P.T.S. prisoner had died from a perforated ulcer. In 2014, William Weintraub, 47, a former physics professor charged with threatening a South Carolina newspaper over an article he disputed, was found blue and covered in urine in the back of a P.T.S. van when it reached Georgia. Investigators there determined that P.T.S. guards had mocked Mr. Weintraub's complaints of severe stomach pain. The investigation was closed.

Attempts at Reform

Kyle Bell was no ordinary prisoner.

In 1993, he molested and murdered his 11-year-old North Dakota neighbor, Jeanna North. Six years later, he escaped from a private transport van. His absence was not noticed for nine hours, and guards did not notify the police for another two hours. The escape warranted a segment on "America's Most Wanted."

After the episode, Byron Dorgan, then a Democratic United States senator from North Dakota, introduced a measure to impose controls on the industry. "My colleagues and I were all shocked that a guy and his wife with an S.U.V. could start a business to haul violent offenders around with no requirements," Mr. Dorgan said. The law, commonly known as Jeanna's Act, passed in 2000.

Jeanna's Act mandates that extradition companies must notify local law enforcement immediately after an escape, dress violent prisoners in brightly colored clothing and maintain a ratio of one guard for every six prisoners. It also sets broad standards for training and background checks of guards, and for treatment of prisoners.

But the federal law is almost never enforced. The Justice Department could identify just one instance: In 2011, a suspect accused of child molestation escaped from an unlocked van in North Dakota, a few hours from where Jeanna had been murdered. Local farmers cleared a cornfield to flush him out. The company, Extradition Transport of America, was fined $80,000 and went out of business.

"Well, it's regulated by the Department of Justice, but I've never seen anybody come out to actually check on us," said Mr. Downs, the chief operating officer of P.T.S. "We're just supposed to follow the guidelines."

Extradition companies are not required to report escapes to federal regulators, and there is no centralized tracking. But a review of dozens of local news accounts shows that since Jeanna's Act was passed, at least 56 prisoners were reported to have escaped from for-profit extradition vehicles. At least 16 were reported to have committed new crimes while on the run.

By comparison, the prison systems of California, Florida and Texas — which together transport more than 800,000 inmates every year, most of them in-state — have each had just one prisoner escape from transport vehicles over the same period.

"We thought we'd closed the door on this," Mr. Dorgan said in reference to the widespread use of small extradition companies and the escapes that have occurred.

While the Department of Transportation has no role in responding to escapes or prisoner mistreatment, it is responsible for monitoring vehicle and driver safety, including whether guards get enough downtime away from the wheel, under the same regulations that govern all passenger carriers.

A Marshall Project review of Department of Transportation records shows that the agency's monitoring is infrequent, and companies are typically given advance notice of an audit. Between 2000 and 2015, records indicate, the department issued fines 20 times, most below $10,000.

While P.T.S. has been registered with the department since at least 2005, the agency did not audit the company until 2009, records show. U.S. Corrections, which was founded in 2014, was audited for the first time in March.

Because passenger carriers are not required to specify to the Transportation Department what kinds of people they move around, a department spokesman said he could not comment on specifics about the prisoner transport industry.

Local news reports and court records show that there have been more than 50 crashes involving private extradition vehicles since 2000. In almost every instance, the prisoners were shackled but not wearing seatbelts, leaving them unable to brace themselves.

In addition to the dozen deaths, a dozen prisoners have suffered injuries to their necks, skulls or spines, according to lawsuits, hospital reports and accident reports obtained from state and local agencies.

Fatigue seems to have played a role in many of the accidents. Of 26 accidents for which a time could be determined, 14 occurred between midnight and 6 a.m.

Mr. Downs, who took over operations at P.T.S. after it merged last year with one of its biggest competitors, the Florida-based U.S. Prisoner Transport, said he had taken steps to make the company safer. The company had already installed sleeper berths for guards in its vans.

Mr. Downs said its agents were now required to stay in a company-paid hotel room every 36 hours, although he said that was not always possible because of scheduling pressures. The company also has three full-size buses and has bought four larger shuttle buses, all with bathrooms on board, in addition to its fleet of nearly 30 vans. Guards are monitored by GPS, and their pay has been increased, Mr. Downs said.

"It's a tough industry," he said. "The profit margins aren't as good as you would think they are." He declined to answer a list of written questions about specific occurrences in the company's vans.

Security Transport Services, which is based in Topeka, Kan., and has been in the business since 1990, says it puts all prisoners in seatbelts and requires agents to stay in a hotel every night. A Kansas sheriff said the company had also partly reimbursed his department for the cost of a manhunt after a 2012 escape, which is required by law in cases of negligence but rarely occurs, according to a survey of law enforcement officials in jurisdictions where escapes occurred.

But the company charges about 30 percent more than its competitors, said Tom Rork, its vice president. Security Transport Services has contracts with three state corrections departments, compared with nearly 20 held by P.T.S., and it recently lost its Pennsylvania contract to U.S. Corrections.

P.T.S. says in federal filings that it has "contracts or relationships" with about 800 agencies. It is also poised to acquire U.S. Corrections, one of its main competitors, next month, according to a filing with the national Surface Transportation Board.

Answers Are Elusive

After Mr. Galack's death, his brother, Robert, made repeated calls to the Tennessee authorities, trying to determine what had happened. "I mean, he was fully in shackles and ended up dead?" he said.

It was hard to find answers. Only one prisoner in the van, Chelsie Hogsett, told investigators that Mr. Galack had been beaten. Another, Joseph Allen, did not confirm the account until a later civil suit.

The Tennessee Bureau of Investigation decided within eight hours of arriving at the scene that if a crime had occurred, it had happened in Georgia. It sent the van on its way. The Georgia Bureau of Investigation declined to follow up, records show.

The medical examiner noted Mr. Galack's injuries — a broken rib, bruises on his head, torso, arms and legs, a broken tooth and cuts around his nose and eyes — but did not believe they had led to his death.

The investigation was determined to be "as thorough as the circumstances warranted," said Josh DeVine, a spokesman for the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation.

Anthony Dwyer, the chief deputy of the sheriff's office in Butler County, Ohio, said he had been told only that a prisoner had died en route, not that a beating might have been involved. "It wasn't really our responsibility," he said. He said he monitored P.T.S.'s performance by speaking to prisoners when they arrive.

Darnell Ball, one of the guards in the van that transported Mr. Galack, declined to comment, citing a confidentiality agreement. The other, Leroy Creese, did not respond to two attempts to contact him at an address believed to be his home. A P.T.S. official said in a deposition taken in a civil lawsuit that Mr. Galack had sustained the injuries in a fall in the van.

This spring, Mr. Galack's family won a confidential settlement against P.T.S. But Mr. Galack's son, Jordan, found it paltry consolation. Now 20, he had talked to his father every day on the phone and lost 30 pounds after his father's death.

Kristin Galack said she had never had any idea what her ex-husband would face when he was arrested. "Steve and the other people on these vans, they've made mistakes," Ms. Galack said. "But that doesn't mean he couldn't come back from it. People do."

Three months after Mr. Galack was found in the back of the van, P.T.S. sent Butler County a bill for $1,061 — the cost of the 752 miles he was transported before dying.

[garbon]

Not the sort of thing that Palm Springs generally creates (inter)national news about!

https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2016/oct/08/three-police-officers-shot-palm-springs-california

Two police officers dead and one injured in Palm Springs shooting

Two California police officers were shot dead on Saturday while responding to a family disturbance in the town of Palm Springs, and a third injured as police tried to bring a suspect into custody, officials said.

Following a prolonged hunt for the suspect overnight on Saturday, the county sheriff's department said on Twitter early on Sunday morning that the suspect had been taken into custody.

The Palm Springs police chief, Brian Reyes, had told reporters at a press conference on Saturday afternoon that officials had set up a "containment area" for several blocks around the house where the shooting took place.

Reyes named the dead officers as Jose Vega and Lesley Zerebny.

Several Swat teams were involved in the search for the suspect, who police said could be outside a perimeter of armoured cars, police cruisers and dozens of officers. Residents had been told to evacuate and to not answer their doors.

"I'm awake in a nightmare right now," Reyes said. "That's me, but as the chief of police I've got to step forward and stay focused. We will do what we need to do."

He added: "It was a simple family disturbance and [the suspect] elected to open fire on a few of the guardians of the city."

Reyes said the three were standing near the front door speaking with the man, "trying to negotiate with the suspect", when he suddenly shot them.

Zerebny, 27, had been with the department for about 18 months and only recently returned from maternity leave after giving birth to a now four-month-old daughter. Vega, the father of eight, was a 35-year veteran who planned to retire in December. He had been working overtime on his day off on Saturday. The wounded officer's name was not released.

Earlier on Saturday, Sgt William Hutchinson told reporters police were called because of "some kind of family disturbance". He said that though there was no active shootings situation, "we are actively looking for a suspect at this time".

"Do not answer your doors for anybody," he warned.

In a statement, the police did not say what condition the surviving officer was in. The three were shot near the Sunrise Racquet Club on Sunrise Way. Photographs and videos posted on social media showed dozens of officers around a single home, where it was thought the suspect may have built a barricade.

A spokesman for the police department did not immediately return a phone call or email requesting details.

Witnesses told the local Desert Sun that they heard 10 to 20 gun shots before 2pm local time.

"It sounded like fireworks at first," neighbour Juan Garciano told the paper. "I came out of the house and saw police start to block the roads."

A law enforcement source speaking on condition of anonymity told the Los Angeles Times that one of the officers was in critical condition.

[CountDeMoney]

Swat teams

lol, Guardian.

[The Brain]

Crammed around him were 10 other people, both men and women, all handcuffed and shackled at the waist and ankles.

Sounds like Friday night play session at Casa Brain.

[CountDeMoney]

derstormfront's wife was wondering why he was so frisky last night, what with the election several days ago...

Mistrial for officer who killed a black man while wearing Confederate flag shirt
By Cleve R. Wootson Jr. November 12 at 3:46 PM 

An Ohio judge has declared a mistrial in the case of a former University of Cincinnati police officer who shot and killed a black man who had been pulled over for a missing front license plate last year.

The jury of 10 whites and two blacks had been deliberating for more than 25 hours since Wednesday, according to the Associated Press. On Saturday morning Judge Megan Shanahan declared the jury was hopelessly deadlocked.

Ray Tensing, 26, faced life in prison after being charged with murder in the killing of Sam DuBose near the university.

The officer testified that his arm was stuck in the car as DuBose tried to speed away. Tensing said he feared he was going to be killed and fired one shot, striking DuBose in the head.

Tensing was fired by the University of Cincinnati. At trial, prosecutors revealed that Tensing was wearing a T-shirt with a Confederate flag on it beneath his uniform.[/b]

DuBose's killing added Cincinnati to the list of cities where officers have fatally shot unarmed black civilians. Tensing was indicted almost a year after another black man, Michael Brown, was killed by a white police officer in Ferguson, Mo.

Police killed 991 people in the line of duty in 2015, according to a Washington Post database of police shootings. So far this year, officers have killed 832 people.

Body camera footage of the fatal interaction between DuBose and Tensing was released last summer. In the video, DuBose tells Tensing that he is licensed to drive but doesn't have his driver's license on him.

"Be straight up with me, are you suspended?" Tensing asks.

Tensions rise when Tensing asks DuBose to take off his seat belt, apparently to arrest him.

"I ain't even do nothing," DuBose says, and he starts to turn on the car's ignition.

Tensing yells "Stop! Stop!" then he thrusts the weapon through the open car window and fires a single round.

In an interview shortly after the killing, Hamilton County prosecutor Joe Deters told reporters: "This is the first time that we've thought this is without question a murder."

The officer, Deters said, "wasn't dealing with someone who was wanted for murder. He was dealing with someone who didn't have a front license plate. This was, in the vernacular, a pretty chicken-crap stop. I'm treating him like a murderer."

In a statement, the university extended its thoughts and prayers to everyone affected by the shooting.

"We remain steadfast in our commitment to building a just community anchored in trust, care, integrity and equity," interim president Beverly J. Davenport said in a statement tweeted out by the university. "Our campus and our community will come together to listen, to heal and to partner for positive and lasting change."

    Statement from @UCPrezDav: pic.twitter.com/oL7zpPPfNN

    — U of Cincinnati (@uofcincy) November 12, 2016

Last year protesters descended on the university's campus, calling the shooting unjustified. And on Saturday, hours after the mistrial was declared, demonstrators briefly blocked Cincinnati's downtown streetcar line.

Deters told the AP that jurors were leaning toward convicting Tensing on a lesser charge, but couldn't agree. Shanahan set a new hearing date for Nov. 28 to determine whether the case will be retried.

Execution video embedded in the article.

[Oexmelin]

Don't worry, I am sure after the internal coup by sane Republicans and after Trump reveals himself to be different from his persona of the last 70 years, stories like this will only be a bad memory.