a call from CNN.
A producer asked: Could I appear live on Don Lemon’s show outside City Hall from 10 p.m. to 1 a.m.? Images of burning buildings and looted stores were already being broadcast around the world. Coming after days of mostly peaceful demonstrations, the unrest was now alternately riveting and horrifying the nation just eight months after the violent protests over police brutality in Ferguson, Mo.
After thinking about whether or not I wanted to get caught up in the mix, I told the producer I’d be at the interview site, in front of Baltimore’s City Hall. I felt I had a perspective to lend that many did not, given my experience in Baltimore’s police force and understanding of the city. In fact, I’ve interviewed with CNN, FOX, MSNBC, BBC, VOA and a host of other national and international news networks and cable outlets throughout my career, so I understood the importance of lending credible insight in a balanced manner.
I knew many would use this media platform as a chance to advance an agenda or “sound off” about whatever irked them during this emotional time. I felt an obligation to speak about Baltimore and on the very important, volatile issue of police brutality.
Driving into the city from my home that night was a surreal experience.
Before I reached I-395, the ribbon of highway that curls around the outskirts of Baltimore before spilling out downtown, I could see the fires burning in the distance.
The smell of smoke hung heavy in the air. The wail of sirens was everywhere. Each news report on the radio seemed to confirm that things were growing increasingly out of control, and that the police were completely overwhelmed by the chaos in the streets.
For the first time in my career, I had actually brought a licensed, armed person with me to an interview for personal protection. I felt better having Frank Barile, who heads Fallston Group’s safety and security vertical, watching my back.
Frank is a former highly-decorated Baltimore County police officer and SWAT team member—a weapons and tactical expert. The unrest was clearly growing in intensity, and my fear was that we could come upon a large group of rioters who might decide to make us their next target.
There was no question that Freddie Gray’s death had become a rallying point for much of West Baltimore and its impoverished residents. So many were frustrated with the historical conditions in which they were forced to live, with the joblessness, the lack of transportation, the lack of opportunity, no education and, quite frankly, with the lack of hope.
These are all extremely important social issues that must continue to be addressed. Baltimore was now a city of the “have’s” and “have not’s.” It can be a recipe for disaster when the poorest are just blocks away from the most privileged, as we’ve seen in many American cities.
The main question now was: what would city leadership—particularly Mayor Stephanie Rawlings-Blake and Police Commissioner Anthony Batts—do to quell the unrest and get the city back under control?
The answer, sadly, turned out to be: not nearly enough. Certainly not in the critical first hours, when the violence escalated alarmingly and city officials seemed nowhere to be found.
As I stood outside City Hall being interviewed about the rapidly deteriorating conditions, about Freddie Gray’s arrest and police department policy on prisoner transport and use of force, the questions I heard over and over again from media members and citizens were: “Where’s the mayor? How come we haven’t heard from her yet?”
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