"I Was Just Trying to Light My Candle"
http://www.newmexicocivilrightslaw.com/2010/03/articles/section-1983-cases/i-was-just-trying-to-light-my-candle/
March 2, 2010
“I actually thought I was going to die,” Susan Schuurman told the jury in the second week of trial in Lynn Buck, et al. v. The City of Albuquerque, et. al. “I ran over to the sidewalk in front of the Frontier, doubled over trying to breathe … It was really scary, I was terrified.”
Susan is one of eleven named plaintiffs in the major federal civil rights trial going on now, before Judge Johnson in the U.S. District Court for the District of New Mexico. She described the night of March 20, 2003, after several tear gas canisters had been fired into the crowd of anti-war protesters. As reported last week, the crowd, which sometimes numbered over 700 (depending on the time), included children, elderly residents, and Albuquerque citizens of all kinds ...(See http://www.newmexicocivilrightslaw.com/2010/02/articles/section-1983-cases/freedom-of-speech-v-public-safety/)
"I noticed a woman who was overcome at my feet (Continued) ..
“I noticed a woman who was overcome at my feet,” she went on, describing on direct examination to Brendan Egan of the ACLU, how she was unable to help the woman (later identified as Camille Chavez). Chavez was lying in the middle of Central, choking on the gas. “I was immobilized … I felt guilty ever since.”
Several shots had been fired into the crowd, including a canister which had been volleyed on the mall, directly before the bookstore. The crowd dispersed in panic in every direction.
“I thought they were real bullets,” she explained. “I knew nothing about the tear gas, having some kind of asthma attack.”
The photo of Chavez was featured prominently in the Albuquerque Tribune at the time. One of two major Albuquerque newspapers, the more liberal-leaning Tribune went out of business in 2008. As of the time of this update, there have been no major broadcast or reporting on the current trial, between Channels 4, 7, 13, or any of the major, local Broadcast media, which all have a metaphorical license to “print money” in the form of unlimited amounts of advertising sales. Since 1985, The FCC no longer regulates these stations under the Fairness Doctrine, which was in effect in prior decades, but still upheld as Constitutional by the U.S. Supreme Court in Red Lion Broadcasting v. FCC, 395 U.S. 367 (1969). Consequently, the majority of citizens or attorneys in Albuquerque don’t even know a major civil rights trial is happening, in their own neighborhood, as no TV reporting has been conducted, even outside the Courthouse. Unpaid bloggers have never been so crucial to Democracy.
“All of a sudden I felt a baton in my back. I was quickly met by other officers who shoved me back into the sidewalk,” Schuurman went on to explain how she was ‘pin-balled’ back and forth, between the street and the sidewalk, being struck several times with batons. She yelled at the officers,
“Where do you want me to be?” An unidentified officer replied, “You should have thought of that before.”
“They weren’t trying to direct me to a certain place, they were punishing me for my points of view,” Shuurman concluded. “I finally had the guts to ask the officer if I could go to my car … I was scared of being followed home by the police, or maybe they were going to do something to my dogs … because of their [ABQ police officers] hostility, they were treating us like we were the enemy, like we were unpatriotic.”
Shuurman continues to have flashbacks of the incident whenever she walks through the intersection of Central and Cornell.
“I don’t want any peaceful protester to ever have to experience that fear again,” she said, when cross-examined by the City’s enormous defense team of at least 11 private attorneys, filling up the entire opposing counsel table of the large federal court room. “I want there to be accountability.”
“I was just trying to light my candle,” she concluded, as part of a prayer vigil for peace. A video was later played of the crowd singing, “The People, United, Will Never Be Defeated.”
Camille Chavez, a lifelong resident of Albuquerque, always trusted police officers before the events of March 20, 2003.
“I always thought that police officers had a really hard job to do,” she explained. Sometimes, she was extremely grateful for a police presence, whether it be responding to crime, or likewise. She never anticipated the dark emotions that were conjured up that rainy night in the Duke City.
When the first shots were fired by the police, she thought, “that’s it, I’m out of here, I’m too scared. … It’s getting progressively more and more terrifying.” But then, after checking in with a higher power, whom she called God, Chavez concluded:
“I said a little prayer,” she testified, holding back tears. “That’s how I knew, no matter how scared I was, I could stay there in solidarity.”
Suddenly there was a large shot and screaming, and she witnessed another protester fall to the ground.
“We all linked arms and just sat down in the street,” she said. “ … A protester near her chanted, ‘peaceful protest, not a riot!’ Billows of white smoke began rolling into the intersection, a protester kicked the gas canister back toward the police, and the police threw the canister directly back into the crowd.
“It really felt like an assault,” Chavez stated. “They [the police] had tear gas masks but I didn’t have any protection.”
At this point, Chavez stated she didn’t mind getting arrested. When questioned about the long history of civil disobedience, she compared the crowd to those following in the tradition of Gandhi, Thoreau, Martin Luther King, Jr., and Jesus Christ (who stood down the Roman Empire, despite death, to deliver a message of peace and nonviolence).
“I got a complete face full of the gas, right into my face,” she stated. “I can see guns pointed at me, I am out there by myself. I am absolutely terrified. I couldn’t leave at that point, my eyes were burning, and I couldn’t breathe.” Instead, Chavez just fell to the ground.
“I thought, ‘how can they kill me I am just collapsed in the street?’ ” she thought. “Somebody ran up to me with a vinegar rag and handed it to me.” She was never able to identify the person with the vinegar-soaked rag, as breathing through it instantly relieved the tear gas asphyxiation. Perhaps a guardian angel came more prepared.
After standing up, she began hobbling toward the Frontier Restaurant, breathing through the rag.
“I got hit from behind with a billy club,” she testified. “I flew through the air, my glasses flew off my face, landing on the sidewalk .. I was just stunned, my eyes were still burning … [All I could] hear was chaos.”
“Get across the street,” a masked, unidentified cop shouted, striking her a second time from the back, knocking her into Central. “I just freeze … There is another man on the mall, not moving, and people are trying to help him. Officers came charging up onto the mall [with their horses].”
As the night wore on with more acts of terror, Chavez was eventually allowed to return to her car, and back to her home.
“I didn’t go to the protest the next day, I couldn’t believe anyone could be that brave,” she explained, as she was having nightmares for several nights after the assault. “Scary figures were chasing me.”
What did she take home with her from the events of that night?
“There was just a piece of trust gone,” she stated. “The police broke rules that night, and I no longer feel safe voicing my opinions.”
"Part of me feels like a failure because I wasn't able to complete my statement," Chavez said, reliving the horrible moments through tears on the stand.
Despite the fear, her higher power told her she was exactly where she needed to be, and she stood her ground.
The numbers of protesters, over the years, gradually grew smaller and smaller nationwide. At least for that night, the protesters prayer candles were no match for the tear gas of the Albuquerque police department.
Check back for more updates on the Civil Rights blog as the stories of other courageous Americans are told throughout the trial ...
-Derek Garcia for The Kennedy Law Firm
March 2, 2010
“I actually thought I was going to die,” Susan Schuurman told the jury in the second week of trial in Lynn Buck, et al. v. The City of Albuquerque, et. al. “I ran over to the sidewalk in front of the Frontier, doubled over trying to breathe … It was really scary, I was terrified.”
Susan is one of eleven named plaintiffs in the major federal civil rights trial going on now, before Judge Johnson in the U.S. District Court for the District of New Mexico. She described the night of March 20, 2003, after several tear gas canisters had been fired into the crowd of anti-war protesters. As reported last week, the crowd, which sometimes numbered over 700 (depending on the time), included children, elderly residents, and Albuquerque citizens of all kinds ...(See http://www.newmexicocivilrightslaw.com/2010/02/articles/section-1983-cases/freedom-of-speech-v-public-safety/)
"I noticed a woman who was overcome at my feet (Continued) ..
“I noticed a woman who was overcome at my feet,” she went on, describing on direct examination to Brendan Egan of the ACLU, how she was unable to help the woman (later identified as Camille Chavez). Chavez was lying in the middle of Central, choking on the gas. “I was immobilized … I felt guilty ever since.”
Several shots had been fired into the crowd, including a canister which had been volleyed on the mall, directly before the bookstore. The crowd dispersed in panic in every direction.
“I thought they were real bullets,” she explained. “I knew nothing about the tear gas, having some kind of asthma attack.”
The photo of Chavez was featured prominently in the Albuquerque Tribune at the time. One of two major Albuquerque newspapers, the more liberal-leaning Tribune went out of business in 2008. As of the time of this update, there have been no major broadcast or reporting on the current trial, between Channels 4, 7, 13, or any of the major, local Broadcast media, which all have a metaphorical license to “print money” in the form of unlimited amounts of advertising sales. Since 1985, The FCC no longer regulates these stations under the Fairness Doctrine, which was in effect in prior decades, but still upheld as Constitutional by the U.S. Supreme Court in Red Lion Broadcasting v. FCC, 395 U.S. 367 (1969). Consequently, the majority of citizens or attorneys in Albuquerque don’t even know a major civil rights trial is happening, in their own neighborhood, as no TV reporting has been conducted, even outside the Courthouse. Unpaid bloggers have never been so crucial to Democracy.
“All of a sudden I felt a baton in my back. I was quickly met by other officers who shoved me back into the sidewalk,” Schuurman went on to explain how she was ‘pin-balled’ back and forth, between the street and the sidewalk, being struck several times with batons. She yelled at the officers,
“Where do you want me to be?” An unidentified officer replied, “You should have thought of that before.”
“They weren’t trying to direct me to a certain place, they were punishing me for my points of view,” Shuurman concluded. “I finally had the guts to ask the officer if I could go to my car … I was scared of being followed home by the police, or maybe they were going to do something to my dogs … because of their [ABQ police officers] hostility, they were treating us like we were the enemy, like we were unpatriotic.”
Shuurman continues to have flashbacks of the incident whenever she walks through the intersection of Central and Cornell.
“I don’t want any peaceful protester to ever have to experience that fear again,” she said, when cross-examined by the City’s enormous defense team of at least 11 private attorneys, filling up the entire opposing counsel table of the large federal court room. “I want there to be accountability.”
“I was just trying to light my candle,” she concluded, as part of a prayer vigil for peace. A video was later played of the crowd singing, “The People, United, Will Never Be Defeated.”
Camille Chavez, a lifelong resident of Albuquerque, always trusted police officers before the events of March 20, 2003.
“I always thought that police officers had a really hard job to do,” she explained. Sometimes, she was extremely grateful for a police presence, whether it be responding to crime, or likewise. She never anticipated the dark emotions that were conjured up that rainy night in the Duke City.
When the first shots were fired by the police, she thought, “that’s it, I’m out of here, I’m too scared. … It’s getting progressively more and more terrifying.” But then, after checking in with a higher power, whom she called God, Chavez concluded:
“I said a little prayer,” she testified, holding back tears. “That’s how I knew, no matter how scared I was, I could stay there in solidarity.”
Suddenly there was a large shot and screaming, and she witnessed another protester fall to the ground.
“We all linked arms and just sat down in the street,” she said. “ … A protester near her chanted, ‘peaceful protest, not a riot!’ Billows of white smoke began rolling into the intersection, a protester kicked the gas canister back toward the police, and the police threw the canister directly back into the crowd.
“It really felt like an assault,” Chavez stated. “They [the police] had tear gas masks but I didn’t have any protection.”
At this point, Chavez stated she didn’t mind getting arrested. When questioned about the long history of civil disobedience, she compared the crowd to those following in the tradition of Gandhi, Thoreau, Martin Luther King, Jr., and Jesus Christ (who stood down the Roman Empire, despite death, to deliver a message of peace and nonviolence).
“I got a complete face full of the gas, right into my face,” she stated. “I can see guns pointed at me, I am out there by myself. I am absolutely terrified. I couldn’t leave at that point, my eyes were burning, and I couldn’t breathe.” Instead, Chavez just fell to the ground.
“I thought, ‘how can they kill me I am just collapsed in the street?’ ” she thought. “Somebody ran up to me with a vinegar rag and handed it to me.” She was never able to identify the person with the vinegar-soaked rag, as breathing through it instantly relieved the tear gas asphyxiation. Perhaps a guardian angel came more prepared.
After standing up, she began hobbling toward the Frontier Restaurant, breathing through the rag.
“I got hit from behind with a billy club,” she testified. “I flew through the air, my glasses flew off my face, landing on the sidewalk .. I was just stunned, my eyes were still burning … [All I could] hear was chaos.”
“Get across the street,” a masked, unidentified cop shouted, striking her a second time from the back, knocking her into Central. “I just freeze … There is another man on the mall, not moving, and people are trying to help him. Officers came charging up onto the mall [with their horses].”
As the night wore on with more acts of terror, Chavez was eventually allowed to return to her car, and back to her home.
“I didn’t go to the protest the next day, I couldn’t believe anyone could be that brave,” she explained, as she was having nightmares for several nights after the assault. “Scary figures were chasing me.”
What did she take home with her from the events of that night?
“There was just a piece of trust gone,” she stated. “The police broke rules that night, and I no longer feel safe voicing my opinions.”
"Part of me feels like a failure because I wasn't able to complete my statement," Chavez said, reliving the horrible moments through tears on the stand.
Despite the fear, her higher power told her she was exactly where she needed to be, and she stood her ground.
The numbers of protesters, over the years, gradually grew smaller and smaller nationwide. At least for that night, the protesters prayer candles were no match for the tear gas of the Albuquerque police department.
Check back for more updates on the Civil Rights blog as the stories of other courageous Americans are told throughout the trial ...
-Derek Garcia for The Kennedy Law Firm