• Skip to primary navigation
  • Skip to main content
  • Skip to primary sidebar

RVA Mag

Richmond, VA Culture & Politics Since 2005

Menu RVA Mag Logo
  • community
  • MUSIC
  • ART
  • EAT DRINK
  • GAYRVA
  • POLITICS
  • PHOTO
  • EVENTS
  • MAGAZINE
RVA Mag Logo
  • About
  • Contact
  • Contributors
  • Sponsors

Op-Ed: Dear White Ladies Of A Certain Age

Amy Rector | June 5, 2020

Topics: black lives matter, George Floyd, Police Killing, police violence, protests, White Ladies of a Certain Age

Dear White Ladies of a Certain Age,

Your daughters and sons are out there.

While you’re hoping your Black friend from college will answer your email about what book to read to make you a better person, your blue-eyed college freshman is walking down a city block holding a sign that says BLACK LIVES MATTER beside her Black peers.

While you and your white friends are wondering what your place is in all of this, your 20-year-old son is on his bike with 15 of his friends blocking traffic under the stoplight so that several thousand young people can walk safely towards the police precinct building.

While you wring your hands about whether you’re going to get yourself in trouble by saying the wrong thing, your daughter is kneeling with her hands in the air, making eye contact with a National Guardsman. She is yelling, from the depths of her lungs and heart, “Hands up, don’t shoot.”  

While you are feeling isolated by your age, your privilege, and your mom-ness, your children are lying silent in the street for 8 minutes and 46 seconds, shoulder-to-shoulder with their Black friends, demanding the police watch them for the length of time George Floyd had a knee in his neck.  

Your daughters and sons are out there. 

They are following young Black leaders, they are joining in with their voices, and they are demanding necessary change to a system that is deadly. These young people — including your daughters and sons — are leading the way. They are organized, they are wearing masks, and they have snacks, water, and hand sanitizer to share with the older crowd who never thinks of any of these things. They bring bags to collect recycling, and they call ahead to businesses who offer them bathrooms and places to cool off. They are wearing sensible shoes. They are strong, and they are growing stronger.

These young Black organizers they are following are going to lead our country to a better, safer place. And your daughters and sons are out there with them.

White Ladies of a Certain Age: It’s time to have that conversation about race with your kids that you’ve been avoiding their whole lives, regardless of how awkward it will make you feel. But here’s the catch: it’s not you who will do the talking. Ask your daughters and sons about what they are demonstrating for – ask them about Breonna Taylor, Campaign Zero, and all the Black lives that have been impacted by police violence. They know the answers. Because they are out there – listening to their Black friends and leaders, engaging every day in what we think of as difficult conversations, and supporting and amplifying voices.  

Your daughters and sons are out there following Black leaders. It’s your turn to do the same. 

A few resources to help you get started:

Want a book to read? Get this one, or this one. And buy them from one of these stores. Your place is with the movement. Your place is supporting, amplifying, and standing up for racial justice. It is ok to start by just listening and learning. Get yourself a Twitter or Instagram account to follow some Black women and listen to what they have to say. You probably have money. Give some to bail funds and the street medics who are giving your kids first-aid. No money? These videos are donating ad revenue to BLM. Go play them.

Note: Op-Eds are contributions from guest writers and do not reflect editorial policy.

Photos by Christopher Brown III

Editorial: Learn To Follow… The Work White People Must Do

RVA Staff | June 3, 2020

Topics: Ahmaud Arbery, black lives matter, Breonna Taylor, George Floyd, Police Killing, police violence, protests, whilte privilege, white supremacy

In a time of nation wide protests against racist police violence, RVA Magazine Managing Partner Landon Shroder urges white people to do the work, support Black protesters, and follow their lead in standing against a system of white supremacy.

When I worked in Iraq, I became familiar with the phenomenon known as the “fog of war.” The “fog” was an inability to properly understand events while they were happening around us. In the chaos of the moment, we became emotional, passionate, and zealous creatures — it was only after the fog lifted that we could assess the situation with clarity and purpose. 

America is currently in the fog of war; one part of this is white people who are struggling to make sense of what is happening around them. 

Photo by Christopher Brown III

The deaths of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and Ahmaud Arbery have reminded us (again) of the very worst forms of structural racism in America. And as white people, we must repeatedly acknowledge this to one another. Their deaths were overt, cold-blooded, and malign. Yet as white people who are bestowed with privilege and access by virtue of birth, we can never truly comprehend what this might be like. Each of our assumptions in this regard is well-intentioned at best, villainous at worst. All white people are beneficiaries of systems and structures that have allowed these deaths to continue — then, and now. 

Our never-ending national neurosis originates from this unreconciled, morally bankrupt position, and a four-hundred-year history that is built on subjugation, oppression, and exploitation of Black communities. This is the hard truth that all white Americans must accept before we can move forward as a unified country with a common purpose. 

There has never been a more opportune time for us as white people to do the work. The uprisings in Minneapolis, Los Angeles, New York, Washington DC, Atlanta, and in 70 other towns and cities throughout America prove that there are people out there willing to take risks to advance the cause of human dignity and respect — even if the result looks imperfect on the street and on the news.

For white people who have been caught unawares by the anger, rage, and spontaneity, I will say this: There is no way for us to truly comprehend the emotional and generational trauma that comes from hundreds of years of state directed violence, political and economic exclusion, and social marginalization against Black communities in America. 

George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and Ahmaud Arbery are only the most recent names, joining a centuries-long list of Black people who have been murdered with impunity in America. 

Because of this, silence can no longer be an option. White silence and our deranged ability to explain away the deaths of Black people at the hands of police and vigilantes, our impotence in having awkward but necessary conversation about race, and our inability to even show a modicum of empathy towards communities that have been forever divorced from the core values we claim to cherish as Americans has put us on the collision course we are now experiencing. 

Photo by Christopher Brown III

The intensity of the past week and the feeling of desperation on streets throughout America should not feel misplaced when viewed through this lens. And because our lived experience does not give us the tools to fully grasp this reality as white people, we have to remain self-critical and intellectually vigilant so we can be better: better friends, better colleagues, better Americans, and better human beings. 

Naturally, there will be those who read this and dismiss it straight away. That is emblematic of an America that will never change, lost to a culture war of their own making. But for those of us who want to put in the work, the uprisings this past week have presented an opportunity to grow beyond the limitations of our immediate understanding.

In this fog of war, understand that there is no strategy that will immediately alter the outcome — not today, not tomorrow. This is a long game, built on the longest game in American history. Yet within this complexity there is one strategy that we must all recognize: In this moment, it is our Black friends and colleagues who will take the lead and shape this movement in a way that is best suited to their own community’s needs. 

We do not have to be passive observers in what is happening though. We can be active participants in anti-racism by making space, supplying resources, and amplifying Black voices. 

As white people of a certain age, some of us will inevitably struggle (more than others) to make sense of what is happening on the street, negotiating the meaning behind certain actions: why curfews are being disobeyed, why people are “rioting,” what is acceptable collateral damage, and what relationship you should have with the police. This is ok — you can support this movement and still be uncomfortable with civil disobedience. You can recognize the police, but still understand they have abused their power and lack accountability. You can understand each of these things, while acknowledging that in 2020 things are still not equal in America — the ghastly murder of George Floyd by the police proved this. 

This is putting in the work. And where each of these things connect, the fog of war will be most dense. So hold the course, take direction, and make space, emotionally and intellectually for our Black friends and colleagues. The time has come for us to step up and be effective allies in the fight for the soul of America. 

To all of our Black friends and colleagues — wherever you lead, we will follow. We are right there behind you. 

Landon Shroder
Managing Partner, RVA Magazine

Top Photo by Christopher Brown III

Unrest In The Streets Of Richmond

RVA Staff | June 1, 2020

Topics: demonstrations in Richmond, George Floyd, police brutality, Police Killing, police violence, protests

Over this past weekend, three nights in a row saw massive protests erupt in the streets of Richmond. RVA Mag captured images of the scenes throughout the weekend.

With outrage continuing to mount over the killing of George Floyd by Minneapolis police, as well as an ongoing epidemic of violence by police and private citizens toward black Americans all over the United States, Richmond erupted in demonstrations on three straight nights over the weekend.

The events of each evening were launched with protest marches, but soon turned destructive as the nights went on. Friday night, a GRTC bus and a police vehicle were burned; on Saturday, fires occurred at the United Daughters of the Confederacy building and inside an occupied apartment building. On Sunday, Mayor Levar Stoney imposed an 8 PM curfew, giving the police a license to send protesters home, or arrest them, regardless of whether they were engaging in destructive behavior. However, demonstrations still took place after darkness fell, and police confronted the marching protesters with tear gas and riot gear for a third evening.

RVA Magazine will publish more detailed coverage of the ongoing protests in Richmond over the course of this week, but for now we are bringing you a selection of images captured on the streets of Richmond by our staff and many contributing photographers over the course of the weekend.

Photo by John Donegan
Photo by John Donegan
Photo by John Donegan
Photo by John Donegan
Photo by John Donegan
Photo by John Donegan
Photo by John Donegan
Photo by John Donegan
Photo by Katja Timm
Photo by Katja Timm
Photo by Alexandra Zernik
Photo by Alexandra Zernik
Photo by Alexandra Zernik
Photo by Uno Itsumademo
Photo by Uno Itsumademo
Photo by Michael Thorn
Photo by Michael Thorn
Photo by Michael Thorn
Photo by Michael Thorn
Photo by Michael Thorn
Photo by Daniel Jones
Photo by Daniel Jones
Photo by Daniel Jones
Photo by Daniel Jones
Photo by Daniel Jones
Photo by Daniel Jones
Photo by Daniel Jones
Photo by Daniel Jones
Photo by Daniel Jones
Photo by Daniel Jones

Top Photo by John Donegan

Seeking Justice For Dominique Clayton

Chase Browning | October 29, 2019

Topics: Dominique Clayton, Matthew Kinne, Oxford Mississippi, Police Killing, William Faulkner, Yoknapatawpha

In William Faulkner’s hometown of Oxford, MS, the killing of a black woman in her own home by a white police officer shows that, as Faulkner once wrote, “The past is never dead. It’s not even past.”

An African-American woman named Dominique Clayton was killed in her Oxford, Mississippi home on Sunday, May 19. She was shot early that morning, in the back of the head while she slept. Her youngest son, Jadarius, found her body later that night. It took the city of Oxford two days to arrest Matthew Kinne, a white Oxford police officer, and charge him with the murder. The Oxford Police Department fired Kinne that same day, Tuesday, May 21.

During the presentation of Kinne’s initial charges on Wednesday, May 22, the Clayton family were struck by what they viewed to be the judge’s light and inappropriate handling of the case, especially once the judge began talking with prosecutors and defense attorneys about a “reasonable bail” for Kinne. The Clayton family was outraged, and demanded the judge be replaced. This demand was accepted on Thursday, May 23, when Judge Andrew Howorth recused himself from the case and was replaced by Judge John A. Gregory.

Dominique Clayton (via Facebook) / Matthew Kinne (via Oxford Police)

When I arrived in Oxford, Mississippi on Friday, May 24, though, I knew nothing about all of this. I was there with the intent of dropping in to Yoknapatawpha County, the brilliantly imagined fictional world that serves as the background for William Faulkner’s novels. I had just graduated from the University of Virginia the week before. In my final spring semester, I had taken a Faulkner seminar with Professor Stephen Railton, an endearing Faulkner scholar who taught the course one final time before retirement. Having immersed myself in eight of Faulkner’s finest Yoknapatawpha fictions, I was committed to make the 12-hour drive from Charlottesville, Virginia to Oxford, Mississippi in order to see what Yoknapatawpha was “really like.”

Even though Yoknapatawpha’s county seat of Jefferson bears strong similarities to Oxford geographically, I wondered how similar these two places could be in reality. What I found was evidence that Faulkner’s fiction — which, according to Virginia writer Lindsay Parnell, “sees the [South] as [a region] which is haunted by the crimes of its past … until history itself becomes a willful and pernicious presence” — is grounded in a reality that persists on from the imagined early 20th century world of Yoknapatawpha to the experience of those living in Oxford, Mississippi today.

This is the story of what happened to me one Friday afternoon in May, what had happened to Dominique Clayton five days earlier, and what has taken place in Oxford, Mississippi ever since.

My participation in this case began on Friday, May 24th in Oxford’s Courthouse Square. It was a warm Friday afternoon, my first in Oxford; I had just left Square Books with a package left there for me by one of my mentors at UVa. I crossed the Square to sit on the benches in front of the courthouse. I knew the two oak trees behind the Confederate monument — a soldier standing erect at the edge of the lawn and overlooking the square — would provide enough shade for me to write comfortably for a few hours. Letting sensations and events wash over me and influence the direction of my writing was all that I expected from the afternoon.

Photo by Chase Browning

An hour or so passed with no interruptions. Then one woman, balancing a video camera on her shoulder and carrying a tripod in her hand, walked up the steps on the opposite side of the courthouse from me. She was with a short, bald man with a white tucked-in shirt, wiping his head with a white kerchief. The woman set up her camera and pointed it at the courthouse steps.

Twenty minutes later, the camerawoman was joined by another woman — a news reporter in a pink dress. I could hear their conversation across the lawn; they were talking about Dominique Clayton’s case, of which I then knew nothing. Once they’d all checked in, the reporter and the short man wandered away again. The camerawoman continued to sit by her equipment as the sun began to break through the trees.

Half an hour later, more reporters and camera crews began to mount the steps toward the courthouse. Reporters juggled their microphones and their phones, talked with one another about how to cover the case. I wasn’t listening attentively, but I was able to catch bits and pieces. There was a murder, and the murderer was being held in a different county. It occurred five days ago and there had already been public outrage on the courthouse steps. The reporters and crews complained that because so many people were yelling and cursing, they’d only gotten five seconds of footage they could use on TV. They were hoping to get more usable coverage this time around.

After the reporters had established themselves and their cameras on the courthouse lawn, more people, most of them black, began to arrive. They came in small groups, from all directions. One young woman in a red dress was carrying an armful of cardboard signs with the words hidden, facing toward her. In half an hour, the crowd on the lawn had gone from five people to 50, and was still growing. Benches were mostly taken by reporters and TV news crews; the gathering crowd stood on all sides of the lawn, facing the courthouse. Two women approached to sit on the bench with me. I moved my things over to give them room.

The women were discussing the same case the news people had been talking about earlier. It was definitely a murder. “I think he will get life in prison,” the woman to my left said. She talked details, particulars about the family of the victim, how they had insider knowledge. Then, seeing me writing in my notebook, the woman to my left leaned over and asked me, “Do you go to Ole Miss?”

“No ma’am,” I said. “I came from Charlottesville, Virginia.” 

She looked surprised. “You came all the way from Virginia for this? Are you freelancing?” 

Now I was at a loss for words. I stammered, “Oh, no, ma’am, I’m just visiting. I’m here for a couple days.” 

Both of the women were looking at me now, surprised, but they didn’t respond. They continued to talk about the family and the details. When there was a break in their conversation, I turned to the woman on my left and asked, “What happened here?”

“A police officer shot and killed a young woman,” she said, fanning herself in the heat. “The officer was white and she was black. He shot her in the back of the head.” 

I was still. “Oh my god. That’s terrible. A police officer shot her?” 

“He broke into her home and shot her in her bedroom.”

She leaned back and turned her head to face the courthouse.

By now, there were easily a hundred people on the lawn, if not more. They all stood facing the courthouse, many starting to take out their phones and hold them up, ready to record what was to come.

The woman next to me jumped up and pointed to the parking lot. “That’s him,” she said. “That’s the lawyer. There he is.”

Photo by Chase Browning

Across the square, a man in a blue suit was walking over slowly, shaking hands along the way. As he approached the lawn, everyone began to stand up. A large group of people had assembled in three rows on the steps of the courthouse. The young woman who had been carrying signs had distributed them to others, and they all held them high. “Justice for Dominique,” the signs read.

The lawyer, who I later learned was Carlos Moore, the Clayton family’s attorney, approached the podium at the front of the steps. Everyone in the audience was standing now, watching him. Cameras were rolling, phones were out — everyone there was at attention. I was still figuring out what was going on, but I stood too.

“Right now, the officer is being charged with the murder of Dominique Clayton,” Moore said. “The alleged murder is a felony, and there is evidence and speculation for a variety of motives. One of the possible motives that has recently come to light is that the officer and Ms. Clayton were romantically involved. Whether this is what led him to break into her home and shoot Ms. Clayton in the back of the head is still unclear. But justice will be served.”

“The murder of Ms. Clayton is a felony crime,” he continued. “But if it can be proven that the officer did break into Ms. Clayton’s home, or if there is proof of sexual assault or attempted rape, then that would be another felony, which would change this case from a murder charge to a capital murder charge. In this country, the maximum sentence for a felony is life in prison. But in the state of Mississippi, the maximum sentence for capital murder is death by firing squad. Now, I don’t believe in public hangings, and I don’t believe in extrajudicial killings. But I have spoken with the family, and we both are in agreement that, in the event that this officer is convicted of capital murder, myself and the family will both be front row at his firing squad, watching justice be served.”

I thought of the opening scene of William Faulkner’s Intruder in the Dust, in which a black man wrongfully accused of killing a white man is led to jail across the same Courthouse Square in which I now stood. I was also acutely aware of more recent demonstrations by Black Lives Matter activists in protest of police brutality and racial injustice. I was used to seeing those on screen, but this was unfolding right before my eyes.

After Moore spoke, he brought Dominique’s sister, Shyjuan Clayton, to the podium to say a few words. I recognized her as the young woman who’d distributed the “Justice For Dominique” signs. She spoke briefly and quietly, Moore answered a few questions from reporters, and then the press conference was over.

As the crowd dispersed, Shyjuan sat down on a bench to my right, and some friends gathered around to join her. She did a few brief interviews, then began talking with her friends about what to do that night, their school, and their hair. This was the night of their local high school’s graduation ceremony. Maybe they were still in high school.

Before long they had left, and soon, there was no one left sitting on the benches around Courthouse Square but me. Finishing my writing, I looked up once more at the monument. The engraved dedication has text on all four sides, one side declaring the South as fighting for a “just and holy cause.” I read it one more time, turned and walked back to my car.

Photo by Chase Browning

It’s been five months since that day in Courthouse Square, and coverage of Dominique Clayton’s murder still hasn’t reached beyond regional coverage in Mississippi and surrounding states. The frequency of events like this — police brutality resulting in black deaths — is uncanny, both across the South and beyond it. Perhaps that’s why Dominique Clayton’s murder isn’t more widely known; such events aren’t rare enough to rate national news coverage.

Since I learned of this case on May 24, I’ve been tracking its progress. In the two weeks following the press conference I found myself present for, Moore and others began investigating the possibility that the Oxford city government and Police Department had facilitated Kinne’s actions. On June 10, Carlos Moore delivered a $5 million claim to the city of Oxford for damages to the Clayton family. A letter was attached along with the claim containing material that seemed to incriminate Matthew Kinne.

In Moore’s letter, according to The Oxford Eagle’s Jake Thompson, he confirmed the speculations about a secret romantic relationship between Kinne and Clayton. Through members of the Clayton family, Moore’s letter revealed, the lawyer had learned that Kinne frequently visited Clayton, “arriv[ing] at around 1:30am and 2am and leav[ing] around 4am on Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. Prior to her death, Ms. Clayton informed Officer Kinne of the possibility that she was pregnant.”

Moore’s letter also claimed that Kinne was in uniform at the time of Clayton’s death, and that Clayton had told her sister that she was worried Kinne might hurt her after he visited her “unexpectedly” five days before her death. Three days before Clayton’s death, Moore stated in the letter, Kinne had forced her to get rid of her dogs, perhaps her only effective alarm against an intruder.

Further, the letter claimed that Oxford Police officers had caused “undue stress” to the Clayton family by initially calling Dominique’s death a suicide, despite there being no gun found anywhere at the crime scene. The abrupt resignation of two officers seemingly unconnected to the case raised further suspicions in Moore and the Clayton family, and resulted in an investigation of the Oxford Police Department, initiated by Mayor Robyn Tannehill and carried out by the state attorney general Jim Hood.

Months after the release of this letter, on August 30, a grand jury in Lafayette County, Mississippi formally indicted Matthew Kinne for capital murder. The official verdict was that Kinne and Clayton were romantically involved in some way, and Kinne was acting on this pretense when he broke into Clayton’s home and shot her in her bed while she slept.

On Monday, September 30th, Kinne appeared in court for his arraignment hearing. He pleaded not guilty to the capital murder charge against him. He remained silent when asked by the judge if he had anything to say to the Clayton family.

Photo by Chase Browning

This is where things still stand today, and will stand until at least sometime in 2020. The question of whether the Clayton family will see justice for Dominique — whether Matthew Kinne will receive life in prison, or death at the hands of a firing squad — lingers over the family and the town of Oxford, Mississippi. By a quirk of circumstance, and my desire to see what William Faulkner’s Yoknapatawpha was “really like,” it hangs over me, too.

Many outside of Oxford, Mississippi may recognize this story in their own experience. Unjust killings like that of Dominique Clayton don’t just occur in Oxford, Mississippi — they happen in Chicago, Cleveland, DC, Brooklyn, Atlanta, and in numerous other places around the country. Many never register in the nation’s consciousness. By sharing Dominique Clayton’s story — by continuing to say her name — I hope to keep her spirit alive, and to motivate others to keep the spirits of the ones they have lost alive as well. 

Like the Clayton family and many in the community of Oxford, Mississippi, I want to see justice for Dominique Clayton. And even after justice is served, I will continue to remember her spirit. I will remember to say her name.

Top Photo by Chase Browning

Family of Marcus Peters Demands Police Reforms at City Council Tonight

Maggie Campbell | June 11, 2018

Topics: Lethal Force, Marcus Peters, Police Killing, richmond, Richmond city council, Richmond police department, virginia

The demand for justice in the killing of Marcus-David Peters moved from the streets to the council meeting room Monday night.

After a march for justice and reformation for Peters on June 2, family and community members addressed city council to call for transparency and an examination into Richmond Police Department’s crisis intervention training during the citizen comment period of the meeting.

As the demonstrators sat in the back of the gallery wearing burgundy and demanding justice for the actions by the department, Richmond City Council recognized Deputy Police Chief Steven R. Drew for his service to the community. Drew has no direct connection to the investigation, but offered a stark juxtaposition to Peters’ sister, Princess Blanding, who took to the podium a short time later.

Blanding Addressing Council

Blanding, in her address, focused on the need for better crisis intervention training and response, asking the RPD to release the curriculum for the training so it could be assessed for its effectiveness. Throughout her address, she also insisted that the current communication by the department did not demonstrate transparency.

“If what you have done so far is what you call being transparent, the community and I will pass on what you have to offer because there are still so many unanswered questions,” Blanding said. After the community comment, Blanding spoke with RVA Mag and said she was hopeful that city council was receptive to her and others comments.

“I’m going to be very optimistic and hope they are being very receptive and they plan on joining with us in this movement to continue to fight for justice and reformation,” Blanding said.

Lynetta Thompson, a former president of the Richmond NAACP, also spoke, asking the police department for more transparency.

Chief Durham Listening to the Family and Supporters of Marcus Peters

“In order for the people to be heard, in order for the people to have full accountability, it is important that we not only talk about transparency, but that we actually exemplify it by not protecting those that got it wrong,” Thompson said. “When something is wrong it is important that management and administrations admit that sometimes they get it wrong.”

Rebecca Keel, a conflict resolution specialist, has been outspoken in calling for an end to the murdering and dehumanization of black and brown people. At council she claimed the family is due an official apology.

“One must admit harm when harm is done and that is truly how we as a society, and we as a city, begin our healing,” Keel said.

Family, friends, and community members had previously gathered on June 2 at the Siegel Center to remember the untimely death of Peters. The hundreds of marchers ended up at police headquarters where they continued their primary chant of, “help not death.” Signs bearing the phrase were held up by many demonstrators in burgundy during the comments at council.

Princess Blanding, Sister of Marcus Peters

“My disappointment continues at the higher levels, instead of taking responsibility and stating that you all messed up and extending you sincerest condolences to my family, the Richmond Police Department was insincere, insensitive, judgemental, and prepared to defend your officer without releasing information to the public,” Blanding said.

 

Body-Cam Footage of Marcus Peters’ Shooting Released by Richmond Police Department

Landon Shroder | May 25, 2018

Topics: Chief Durham, Marcus Peters, mental health, Police Killing, Richmond police department, vcu

Richmond Police Department (RPD) held a press conference this morning to release footage showing the officer-involved shooting of Marcus Peters on May 14 at 5:33 p.m.

Peters, a VCU graduate and biology teacher at Essex High School in Tappahannock, was shot and killed by RPD Officer Michael Nytantaki – who is currently on paid administrative leave – after crashing his car on the 95/64 highway interchange. Peters, who was naked at the time, was rolling on the ground and dancing in the street before being tased and eventually shot in the abdomen. He died shortly after midnight. The medical examiner has listed the death of Peters as a homicide.

Chief Durham

The press conference, chaired by Chief Alfred Durham, was an emotional presentation of the circumstances surrounding the death of Peters and included video from the Jefferson Hotel, traffic cameras, along with footage from the officer’s body-worn camera. Before the footage was shown, Durham addressed the room by saying there has been a lot of misinformation circulating about the incident, but noting that the press conference was an attempt to maintain transparency – something he said remained one of the highest priorities for the department.

“The RPD understands the concerns and impact this has had on our community,” Durham said. “As many of you know, I have been a champion of transparency since assuming command of the Richmond Police Department.”

As footage played, Durham talked through the scenes depicted, which included video from the Jefferson Hotel, where Peters was a part-time employee. The video showed Peters walking through the hotel without his shirt on before he stops to speak with other employees in a service hallway. He eventually leaves the hotel and gets into his car without any of his clothes, which were later found on Franklin Avenue.

The next clips consisted of traffic camera footage of Peters speeding down Main Street before turning on to Belvidere, where he was eventually spotted by Nytantaki, who followed him on to the interstate where the encounter took place.

The entire encounter between Peters and Nytantaki, according to the footage, clocked in at one minute and 16 seconds. During this time Peters can be seen getting out of his car, running in the direction of traffic, dancing, and exhibiting odd behavior, before being struck by a vehicle on the highway. Nytantaki can he heard speaking to police dispatch over the radio as Peters left his vehicle, saying, “seems to be mentally unstable, as we speak.”

Shooting Timeline

As the encounter unfolds, Peters can be seen getting up and shouting, “I’ve figured it out. I’m living the dream.” He then proceeds to charge the officer who had his taser drawn, saying, “Back the fuck up. Put the taser down or I’ll kill you.”

Shortly after, Nytantaki deployed his taser. Yet according to Durham, only one prong made contact with Peters, rendering it ineffective. From here Nytantaki re-draws his service weapon, discharging two shots into Peters’ abdomen before he eventually tumbles to the ground. A state trooper can be seen shortly afterward asking Nytantaki to “holster your weapon for me”, while police officers arriving at the scene attempted to administer first aid to Peters.

“You see officers there putting on gloves. Whenever we use our force, we are to render aid,” said Durham, responding to a question about additional officers who appeared to be standing around idly.

During the question and answer session, an emotional Durham addressed the mental health aspect of the incident. “I looked at what it would take to become a psychologist, psychiatrist, mental health counselor, five to eight years of training. Our police department gives our officers 40 hours,” he said.

“Folks just want to beat us up without having the facts – that hurts, ladies and gentlemen. It hurts the morale of the men and women in our department, and it hurts me, because I have to stand up here and explain what people don’t understand.”

RPD’s Force Investigative Team is currently leading the investigation with support from the FBI, which is standard procedure for incidents that involve the deadly use of force. Durham would not comment on any aspects of the investigation, only taking questions about the content shown in the video footage at the press conference.

Princess Blanding, the sister of Peters, spoke to the press a short time later, saying, “I am extremely appalled that Chief Durham tried to defend the killing of my brother Marcu Peters. Marcus needed help, not death.” She did not comment on his mental health, only saying that the family had never seen any behavior like that in the video. An event called Demanding Justice for Marcus Peters: A Speak-Out & Mobilization has already been planned and will be taking place at Second Baptist Church, West End tomorrow.

Peters was the 412th person to be shot and killed by law enforcement in the US this year, according to the Washington Post’s Fatal Force tracker. This incident also follows reporting of excessive force against an autistic teen by the RPD earlier this month.

Madelyne Ashworth and Sarah Kerndt contributed to this report. Photo of Chief Durham by Landon Shroder 

sidebar

sidebar-alt

Copyright © 2021 · RVA Magazine on Genesis Framework · WordPress · Log in

Close

    Event Details

    Please fill out the form below to suggest an event to us. We will get back to you with further information.


    OR Free Event

    CONTACT: [email protected]