The Fruitvale Station Shooting
New Years. Oscar Grant was celebrating like most of the world. On his way home from a celebration at the Embarcadero in San Francisco, everything changed. Oscar Grant, an unarmed man, was shot dead by BART police. A crowd of onlookers caught it all on cell phones.
The shooting shook he community to its core. Protest and riots soon followed and it became Oakland’s equivalent of Rodney King.
This book will look into what exactly happened and what happened to those who were involved.
The shooting shook he community to its core. Protest and riots soon followed and it became Oakland’s equivalent of Rodney King.
This book will look into what exactly happened and what happened to those who were involved.
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The Fruitvale Station PDF and ePub |
Excerpt
Prologue
Fruitvale BART Station, Oakland, Alameda County, CA - 2:00 a.m., Jan 1, 2009
The BART police were nervous. San Francisco Bay is a lively area with a busy social life, but usually it's pretty good-natured. The Bay's counterculture reputation has softened over the years and it's become more of a fun, quirky place than a center of rebellion against society. There is social deprivation though - inevitable in a conurbation that houses over 7 million people from every ethnic group you could imagine - and sometimes fun can spill over into violence.
Of course violence is always more likely when alcohol is involved, and with the New Year celebrations just starting to wind down there was plenty of it around now. That was bad enough. Add guns to the mix and it could get really ugly, and that's why the police were nervous. There had been two firearms incidents in the last hour. A fight had broken out at Embarcadero Station, and although details weren't clear yet a revolver had been recovered. Then, just down the line at West Oakland, a teenage boy with a loaded semi-automatic had jumped off the platform while running from police and was in the hospital with multiple fractures.
Dennis Zafiratos was nervous, too. He'd been celebrating at Embarcadero and now he was riding the BART Dublin/Pleasanton line home to Castro Valley. BART is usually a safe enough way to travel, but a bad atmosphere had developed on the trip out of the city. Now, as the train pulled into West Oakland, words had turned to punches. Two men, one white and one black, were swinging away at each other. Their friends, black on one side and mostly Latino on the other, were pushing each other and exchanging insults. Zafiratos stayed out of it; he just wanted to get home. He had another seven stations to go, though, and he hoped these assholes weren't going to keep it up the whole way.
The train stopped and a dozen passengers quickly disembarked, some of them throwing nervous or angry glances behind. Then the doors closed and the train pulled out. The next stop was Lake Merritt, where pretty much the same scene was repeated. After that came Fruitvale. More passengers spilled out, some of them looking like they just wanted to get away from the scene inside the car. A couple of the fighters stumbled out, too. Then Zafiratos saw a BART policeman run out onto the platform.
Former Marine Tony Pirone and his partner Marysol Domenici were on the lower floor of the station booking a drunk when a message came through on his radio. There were reports of fighting on board a train coming out from Embarcadero through West Oakland. They'd put out a call for support and reinforcements were on the way, including two officers who'd been dealing with witnesses at West Oakland, but the train was likely to get there first. Could they deal with it? Pirone said he could. Leaving Domenici to deal with the inebriated partygoer he headed upstairs to find the train already at the platform.
Pirone found the platform nearly empty; most of the disembarking passengers had already headed downstairs. The train was waiting at the platform with the car doors open. He drew his Taser electroshock gun and walked to the front car. Fingers started pointing at young men, and Pirone ordered them out of the car one by one. “You, get the f**k out,” he yelled. “Out the car.” A couple obeyed, and were pushed towards the back wall of the platform. Others ignored him; they were roughly seized and dragged out by the burly six foot, one inch officer.
With five suspects on the platform Pirone decided he needed help, and radioed Domenici to call her upstairs. She arrived in moments and looked around, then drew her own Taser. This wasn't a scene she liked very much; Pirone was trying to control five young men by himself, and many of the passengers on the train seemed angry. As Pirone forced one of the men to the platform she started talking to three others who were standing against the wall. They argued with her, protesting their innocence.
Pirone disagreed. Leaving the other man on the ground he walked over beside Domenici. One of the three, 22-year-old Oscar Grant III, opened his mouth to say something. Pirone never gave him a chance; he punched Grant straight in the face, bouncing him off the wall and leaving him staggering. With his other hand he raised the Taser and shouted at the other two, “Get down on the floor. Go on, sit down.” Under the threat of the electric gun they did. Pirone swore at Grant and looked round at the developing situation.
Now more BART officers clattered out onto the platform. Among them Pirone recognized the veteran Jon Woffinden and his partner Johannes Mehserle. Only two years on the force but bigger even than Pirone, Mehserle was an intimidating presence. As Woffinden turned to deal with half a dozen young men who seemed to want to get to the group against the wall, Pirone pointed at Mehserle and said, “Watch them. Don't let them get away.” Mehserle now drew his own Taser and covered the three with it. Panicking at having so many of the weapons aimed at him Grant yelled, “Don't Taser me, I have a four year old daughter.” Then Pirone changed his mind again.
“I want him arrested,” he said, pointing at Grant, “Get the cuffs on him.” Mehserle holstered his Taser and moved forward. He and another cop took hold of Grant and forced him to his knees, then flat on his stomach. Pirone joined in, kneeling on Grant's back to pin him down as Mehserle struggled to get his arms round.
Grant knew the drill; he'd been cuffed before. This time he was struggling to get air, though. He'd been pushed down across the legs of his friend Carlos Reyes and Pirone's 210 pound weight was crushing the wind out of him. He struggled to push himself up slightly and get some space. When one of the cops holding him suddenly stood up he thought he was being allowed to breathe properly. He was wrong.
Mehserle took a step back and shouted “Tony, stand back! I'm going to Tase him.” He drew, brought his hand up and squeezed the trigger. Not the trigger of his Taser, though. The whole station seemed to freeze as the shot crashed out.
Chapter 1: Oscar Grant
Oscar Juliuss Grant III was born on February 27, 1986 to Oscar Grant Jr. and Wanda Johnson. His birthplace was Highland Hospital in Oakland; his mother lived in Hayward. By the time Grant was born Johnson was a single parent. Oscar Grant Jr. was in the state prison at Vacaville serving life for murder, where he remains today.[i] The devoutly religious Johnson took on the challenge of raising her son alone, with only occasional visits to his father. She was lucky; unlike many other single parents in low-income areas she could count on support from an extended family, so Grant was often looked after by uncles and grandparents. Johnson also held down a steady job at UPS. Eventually advancing to a supervisory position, she had no illusions about the importance of work and tried to pass this attitude on to her children.
As a boy, Grant loved fishing and playing baseball and basketball. He was also active in his local congregation, Palma Ceia Baptist Church, where he would pray enthusiastically in front of the assembly. He went to San Lorenzo High School and then Mount Eden High until dropping out in 10th grade.[ii] He was an outgoing and a bright student, but he'd made some bad choices in his friends and that got him into trouble. He was also affected by his home life; the absence of his father upset him, and he envied friends who had both parents around.
After school Grant started getting into increasing trouble with the law. He was arrested five times, at first for small offences like driving with broken lights. Then he spent time in jail for drug dealing after Hayward police caught him selling Ecstasy; in his statement he said he was earning $1,000 to $1,500 a week from dealing. He had a stable family life, though. He and long-term girlfriend Sofina Mesa had a daughter in 2005 and Grant doted on her. He also worked on and off. His older sister was a manager with Kentucky Fried Chicken and had run restaurants in the East Bay, and she gave Oscar chances whenever she could, so he managed to get jobs at several branches.
In October 2006 Grant was involved in a traffic stop carried out by San Leandro police. He had a loaded .380 pistol on him and decided to flee.[iii] He made for his home in Hayward, but before he got there police cornered him near a gas station. Grant threw his gun away and bolted into the station. Police followed him in and there was a struggle. When Grant wouldn't come quietly one of the officers, who was carrying a Taser, used it on him. He was arrested and charged with possession of an illegal firearm, and ended up sentenced to 16 months in prison. He was also left with a fear of being Tased again. Describing the experience, he told Mesa that he wouldn't wish a Taser discharge on anyone.[iv] Grant spent his sentence in Alameda County Jail and Santa Rita Jail in Dublin, until his release in September 2008. At New Year he was still on parole.
Grant might have ended up in prison on a serious charge, but the signs are that he was making an effort this time. While in Santa Rita he earned his GED and gained extra privileges for good behavior. He also developed a new interest; cutting hair. Practicing on his fellow inmates made him think of becoming a barber, an ambition he confided to his mother on Christmas Day just a week before he was shot. Wanda Johnson says her son opened up to her about his mistakes that day during a family gathering at her mother's home; he realized that he'd made mistakes and wanted to settle down. While he planned how to get a start at barbering he found a job at Farmer Joe's, an Oakland organic market, as a butcher. His grandmother Bonnie Johnson says he enjoyed helping customers; once he called her to say a customer wanted help cooking a piece of fish, and asked her for her secret recipe.
The various accounts of Oscar Grant paint a complex picture. A troubled young man who'd had more than his fair share of trouble with the law - and it's no use pretending he was an innocent victim in all of this - he finally seemed to be making a real effort to turn his life around. He'd dropped out of school, like many of his peers, but had taken the chance to get his GED in prison. Peer pressure and a jailed father have a powerful ability to steer someone in the wrong direction but from what his mother said - and she's a remarkable, credible figure - he had realized where he was going wrong. Many young inner city men are serial fathers, but Grant was different; he was genuinely devoted to his girlfriend and young daughter, and wanted to give them the best he could afford. Even before his last prison sentence he'd at least made some effort to find work and he seemed enthusiastic about his new job at Farmer Joe's. He'd not exactly made the most of his life so far but, with the support of a strong family, he had the potential to start again. He seems to have realized that in the weeks before his death.
[i] San Francisco Chronicle, May 30, 2010, Oscar Grant's character, shooter both on trial, Demian Bulwa http://www.sfgate.com/crime/article/Oscar-Grant-s-character-shooter-both-on-trial-3186791.php#page-2
[ii] San Francisco Chronicle, Jan 7, 2009, BART shooting victim's family files claim, Demian Bulwa and Henry K. Lee http://www.sfgate.com/bayarea/article/BART-shooting-victim-s-family-files-claim-3177160.php
[iii] San Francisco Chronicle, Jan 7, 2009, BART shooting victim's family files claim, Demian Bulwa and Henry K. Lee http://www.sfgate.com/bayarea/article/BART-shooting-victim-s-family-files-claim-3177160.php
[iv] Oakland Tribune, June 14, 2010, Friend describes scene before Grant was shot, killed, Paul T. Rosynsky http://www.insidebayarea.com/oakland-bart-shooting/ci_15293724
Fruitvale BART Station, Oakland, Alameda County, CA - 2:00 a.m., Jan 1, 2009
The BART police were nervous. San Francisco Bay is a lively area with a busy social life, but usually it's pretty good-natured. The Bay's counterculture reputation has softened over the years and it's become more of a fun, quirky place than a center of rebellion against society. There is social deprivation though - inevitable in a conurbation that houses over 7 million people from every ethnic group you could imagine - and sometimes fun can spill over into violence.
Of course violence is always more likely when alcohol is involved, and with the New Year celebrations just starting to wind down there was plenty of it around now. That was bad enough. Add guns to the mix and it could get really ugly, and that's why the police were nervous. There had been two firearms incidents in the last hour. A fight had broken out at Embarcadero Station, and although details weren't clear yet a revolver had been recovered. Then, just down the line at West Oakland, a teenage boy with a loaded semi-automatic had jumped off the platform while running from police and was in the hospital with multiple fractures.
Dennis Zafiratos was nervous, too. He'd been celebrating at Embarcadero and now he was riding the BART Dublin/Pleasanton line home to Castro Valley. BART is usually a safe enough way to travel, but a bad atmosphere had developed on the trip out of the city. Now, as the train pulled into West Oakland, words had turned to punches. Two men, one white and one black, were swinging away at each other. Their friends, black on one side and mostly Latino on the other, were pushing each other and exchanging insults. Zafiratos stayed out of it; he just wanted to get home. He had another seven stations to go, though, and he hoped these assholes weren't going to keep it up the whole way.
The train stopped and a dozen passengers quickly disembarked, some of them throwing nervous or angry glances behind. Then the doors closed and the train pulled out. The next stop was Lake Merritt, where pretty much the same scene was repeated. After that came Fruitvale. More passengers spilled out, some of them looking like they just wanted to get away from the scene inside the car. A couple of the fighters stumbled out, too. Then Zafiratos saw a BART policeman run out onto the platform.
Former Marine Tony Pirone and his partner Marysol Domenici were on the lower floor of the station booking a drunk when a message came through on his radio. There were reports of fighting on board a train coming out from Embarcadero through West Oakland. They'd put out a call for support and reinforcements were on the way, including two officers who'd been dealing with witnesses at West Oakland, but the train was likely to get there first. Could they deal with it? Pirone said he could. Leaving Domenici to deal with the inebriated partygoer he headed upstairs to find the train already at the platform.
Pirone found the platform nearly empty; most of the disembarking passengers had already headed downstairs. The train was waiting at the platform with the car doors open. He drew his Taser electroshock gun and walked to the front car. Fingers started pointing at young men, and Pirone ordered them out of the car one by one. “You, get the f**k out,” he yelled. “Out the car.” A couple obeyed, and were pushed towards the back wall of the platform. Others ignored him; they were roughly seized and dragged out by the burly six foot, one inch officer.
With five suspects on the platform Pirone decided he needed help, and radioed Domenici to call her upstairs. She arrived in moments and looked around, then drew her own Taser. This wasn't a scene she liked very much; Pirone was trying to control five young men by himself, and many of the passengers on the train seemed angry. As Pirone forced one of the men to the platform she started talking to three others who were standing against the wall. They argued with her, protesting their innocence.
Pirone disagreed. Leaving the other man on the ground he walked over beside Domenici. One of the three, 22-year-old Oscar Grant III, opened his mouth to say something. Pirone never gave him a chance; he punched Grant straight in the face, bouncing him off the wall and leaving him staggering. With his other hand he raised the Taser and shouted at the other two, “Get down on the floor. Go on, sit down.” Under the threat of the electric gun they did. Pirone swore at Grant and looked round at the developing situation.
Now more BART officers clattered out onto the platform. Among them Pirone recognized the veteran Jon Woffinden and his partner Johannes Mehserle. Only two years on the force but bigger even than Pirone, Mehserle was an intimidating presence. As Woffinden turned to deal with half a dozen young men who seemed to want to get to the group against the wall, Pirone pointed at Mehserle and said, “Watch them. Don't let them get away.” Mehserle now drew his own Taser and covered the three with it. Panicking at having so many of the weapons aimed at him Grant yelled, “Don't Taser me, I have a four year old daughter.” Then Pirone changed his mind again.
“I want him arrested,” he said, pointing at Grant, “Get the cuffs on him.” Mehserle holstered his Taser and moved forward. He and another cop took hold of Grant and forced him to his knees, then flat on his stomach. Pirone joined in, kneeling on Grant's back to pin him down as Mehserle struggled to get his arms round.
Grant knew the drill; he'd been cuffed before. This time he was struggling to get air, though. He'd been pushed down across the legs of his friend Carlos Reyes and Pirone's 210 pound weight was crushing the wind out of him. He struggled to push himself up slightly and get some space. When one of the cops holding him suddenly stood up he thought he was being allowed to breathe properly. He was wrong.
Mehserle took a step back and shouted “Tony, stand back! I'm going to Tase him.” He drew, brought his hand up and squeezed the trigger. Not the trigger of his Taser, though. The whole station seemed to freeze as the shot crashed out.
Chapter 1: Oscar Grant
Oscar Juliuss Grant III was born on February 27, 1986 to Oscar Grant Jr. and Wanda Johnson. His birthplace was Highland Hospital in Oakland; his mother lived in Hayward. By the time Grant was born Johnson was a single parent. Oscar Grant Jr. was in the state prison at Vacaville serving life for murder, where he remains today.[i] The devoutly religious Johnson took on the challenge of raising her son alone, with only occasional visits to his father. She was lucky; unlike many other single parents in low-income areas she could count on support from an extended family, so Grant was often looked after by uncles and grandparents. Johnson also held down a steady job at UPS. Eventually advancing to a supervisory position, she had no illusions about the importance of work and tried to pass this attitude on to her children.
As a boy, Grant loved fishing and playing baseball and basketball. He was also active in his local congregation, Palma Ceia Baptist Church, where he would pray enthusiastically in front of the assembly. He went to San Lorenzo High School and then Mount Eden High until dropping out in 10th grade.[ii] He was an outgoing and a bright student, but he'd made some bad choices in his friends and that got him into trouble. He was also affected by his home life; the absence of his father upset him, and he envied friends who had both parents around.
After school Grant started getting into increasing trouble with the law. He was arrested five times, at first for small offences like driving with broken lights. Then he spent time in jail for drug dealing after Hayward police caught him selling Ecstasy; in his statement he said he was earning $1,000 to $1,500 a week from dealing. He had a stable family life, though. He and long-term girlfriend Sofina Mesa had a daughter in 2005 and Grant doted on her. He also worked on and off. His older sister was a manager with Kentucky Fried Chicken and had run restaurants in the East Bay, and she gave Oscar chances whenever she could, so he managed to get jobs at several branches.
In October 2006 Grant was involved in a traffic stop carried out by San Leandro police. He had a loaded .380 pistol on him and decided to flee.[iii] He made for his home in Hayward, but before he got there police cornered him near a gas station. Grant threw his gun away and bolted into the station. Police followed him in and there was a struggle. When Grant wouldn't come quietly one of the officers, who was carrying a Taser, used it on him. He was arrested and charged with possession of an illegal firearm, and ended up sentenced to 16 months in prison. He was also left with a fear of being Tased again. Describing the experience, he told Mesa that he wouldn't wish a Taser discharge on anyone.[iv] Grant spent his sentence in Alameda County Jail and Santa Rita Jail in Dublin, until his release in September 2008. At New Year he was still on parole.
Grant might have ended up in prison on a serious charge, but the signs are that he was making an effort this time. While in Santa Rita he earned his GED and gained extra privileges for good behavior. He also developed a new interest; cutting hair. Practicing on his fellow inmates made him think of becoming a barber, an ambition he confided to his mother on Christmas Day just a week before he was shot. Wanda Johnson says her son opened up to her about his mistakes that day during a family gathering at her mother's home; he realized that he'd made mistakes and wanted to settle down. While he planned how to get a start at barbering he found a job at Farmer Joe's, an Oakland organic market, as a butcher. His grandmother Bonnie Johnson says he enjoyed helping customers; once he called her to say a customer wanted help cooking a piece of fish, and asked her for her secret recipe.
The various accounts of Oscar Grant paint a complex picture. A troubled young man who'd had more than his fair share of trouble with the law - and it's no use pretending he was an innocent victim in all of this - he finally seemed to be making a real effort to turn his life around. He'd dropped out of school, like many of his peers, but had taken the chance to get his GED in prison. Peer pressure and a jailed father have a powerful ability to steer someone in the wrong direction but from what his mother said - and she's a remarkable, credible figure - he had realized where he was going wrong. Many young inner city men are serial fathers, but Grant was different; he was genuinely devoted to his girlfriend and young daughter, and wanted to give them the best he could afford. Even before his last prison sentence he'd at least made some effort to find work and he seemed enthusiastic about his new job at Farmer Joe's. He'd not exactly made the most of his life so far but, with the support of a strong family, he had the potential to start again. He seems to have realized that in the weeks before his death.
[i] San Francisco Chronicle, May 30, 2010, Oscar Grant's character, shooter both on trial, Demian Bulwa http://www.sfgate.com/crime/article/Oscar-Grant-s-character-shooter-both-on-trial-3186791.php#page-2
[ii] San Francisco Chronicle, Jan 7, 2009, BART shooting victim's family files claim, Demian Bulwa and Henry K. Lee http://www.sfgate.com/bayarea/article/BART-shooting-victim-s-family-files-claim-3177160.php
[iii] San Francisco Chronicle, Jan 7, 2009, BART shooting victim's family files claim, Demian Bulwa and Henry K. Lee http://www.sfgate.com/bayarea/article/BART-shooting-victim-s-family-files-claim-3177160.php
[iv] Oakland Tribune, June 14, 2010, Friend describes scene before Grant was shot, killed, Paul T. Rosynsky http://www.insidebayarea.com/oakland-bart-shooting/ci_15293724
