The unforgettable images of Walter Scott being shot down dead, eight hate-filled shots in the back, play in a loop in my head. Unconsciously, my face contorts with the pain I feel in my heart. Where was protect and serve when handcuffs were placed on dying wrists? Where was protect and serve when the killer, to damn the dead, dropped the stun gun? Where was protect and serve when aid was withheld from the dying? How does a broken taillight become a murder? How does a walk to buy candy end with a boy shot dead? How does selling cigarettes end in a death choke on a city sidewalk? Drop the blinders America. BLACK LIVES MATTER must be the refrain of our time until it’s no longer perilous to be a black man in our country.
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