Much has been said on this site and others as to the fact that people who are raised in the African American urban environment are prone to argue with police officers; to fight them; even to charge gun-armed cops. This is as much urban, and class based as it is cultural. The stay behind whites in South Baltimore and old East Baltimore were notorious for fighting cops, and I knew a couple who paid the ultimate price.
I also do not thing that this tendency to verbal and physical defiance in the face of power as always a negative. If you have just committed a felony, and are drunk, and high, and jaywalking, and 300 pounds, you might not want to attack a smaller heavily armed man charged with making your dumbass mind.
There was one time at a boxing match in East Baltimore, at Mack Lewis’ Eager Street Gym, when I was working the corner for a fighter that I needed that loud ghetto mouth. Chief was up in the ring clinching with a bigger man as 300 locals screamed “beat his black ass” and the nine homeboys from D.C. who had accompanied Chief were screaming “kill the niցցer!”
I don’t have much of a voice. I also have a series of groin injuries and yelling not only hurts but does not amount to much. I was able to tap on the shoulder of Chief’s best friend and scream up into his ear loud enough to be heard, “Do you think you could yell something more useful?”
He looked at me and nodded, ‘Yes’.
I screamed, “When I tap on your shoulder yell, ‘Over hook’. And when I tap twice yell, ‘Turn him Chief!’”
That is not the extent of my debt to African American loudness.
Last Saturday morning, a quarter mile from where Slow Bro sang his song of woe, I found another good use for Harm City civics. I was just on time for my appointment when the #4 bus pulled off the North Point Blvd ramp onto Merit Blvd and prepared to make a left onto Old North Point Road.
The traffic light was out.
Two cops blocked North Point Road; one using his cruiser to block the East-West crossing; and the other having set up traffic cones to block those vehicles attempting to make a left turn off of Merit east to Wal-Mart and an extremely busy flea market.
The driver, a tall black man about 30 with a West Baltimore accent—kind of a mean dragging tone—opened the door and yelled across to the white cop in the cruiser, “What the fuck!”
The cop rolled down his window—for it was raining—and pointed down Merit, indicating a mile and a half detour, and said, “Go around, up German Hill Road.”
The driver closed the door and mused out loud, as he pointed at the other cop on the east side lounging nice and dry in his cop cruiser, “Shit, county police gots it easy. Wanna lay on dey asses so ma passangas have ta walk in da rain and make my ass five minutes late! Oh, Hell no!”
The driver then opened the door and yelled to the west side cop as he pointed to the east side cop, “Its Saturday en I got ladies goin’ to the market. You need to wake his ass up and get him directin’ traffic before I squash his traffic cones!”
Backstory Break
The Maryland Transportation Authority has its own police force. I know of two occasions when MTA cops and Baltimore City cops have gotten into alterations. One incident at the Inner Harbor had city cops arresting a meter maid for ticketing their double parked cars, MTA cops coming to her rescue, and both sides calling for backup.
The cop blinked, nodded okay, and waved for his partner to get out of the car, brave the drizzle, and direct traffic.
My stop was in 200 yards. While offloading I said, “Thank you sir, you saved me a fifteen minute walk.”
He responded, “You welcome sir. We got us a job to do out here.”
