THE WASHINGTON POST MAGAZINE 13Then, after the Black Lives Matter movement blossomed
following the shooting of 18-year-old Michael Brown in Fergu-
son, Mo., there was another incident that captured local
attention. In November 2015, Minneapolis police shot and killed
Jamar Clark outside a birthday party. Police said that Clark, 24,
had fought with officers, resisted arrest and grabbed one of their
guns. But several witnesses maintained that Clark was not
resisting. Some said he was handcuffed or had his hands tied
behind his back. Again, Levy Armstrong was disturbed by a
divergence of accounts between the police and the community.
Inspired by the wave of activism emerging across the country,
Levy Armstrong organized protests outside the Fourth Precinct,
where the officers involved in Clark’s death were based. The
activists demonstrated there for 18 days, demanding more
transparency in the court process rather than having decisions
left to anonymous grand juries in which the evidence never
becomes public. Levy Armstrong encountered the state’s progres-
sive mirage: In March 2016, Freeman agreed to no longer rely on
grand juries but chose not to charge the officers who shot Clark.
“His DNA is all over that gun, and he had no business having his
hand on that gun, which is why they shot him [and] which is why
I didn’t prosecute them,” Freeman said in an interview with a
local news station.
In July 2016, the world would learn the name of Philando
Castile, a 32-year-old Black man and beloved elementary school
cafeteria worker, after an officer shot and killed him during a
traffic stop in the St. Paul suburbs. Upon being pulled over,
Castile told Officer Jeronimo Yanez that he had a licensed
firearm in the car. Even though Castile told Yanez he would not
pull out the weapon, the officer became nervous and shot him.
Castile’s distraught girlfriend, Diamond Reynolds, jumped to
Facebook Live to record the aftermath, crying as blood seeped
across Castile’s shirt. Her 4-year-old daughter was in the back
seat.
Castile’s mother, Valerie, was surprised when the Ramsey
County attorney charged the officer with second-degree man-
slaughter and dangerous discharge of a firearm. Nonetheless, a
jury acquitted Yanez in June 2017, swayed by his insistence that
he had feared Castile would shoot him.
In late 2017, as a tribute to her cafeteria-worker son, Valerie
volunteered at an event to feed the homeless. There, she met a
large security guard who had moved to Minneapolis from
Houston. When he learned who Valerie was, he wrapped his arms
around her and pulled her in close. “I want to give you my
condolences,” George Floyd told her. “It wasn’t right.”
Floyd didn’t follow the ins and outs of the daily news cycle —
killings back in Third Ward were often enough to think about.
But there was something about the Castile case that affected him.
Maybe it was the girl in the back seat, who was a little older than
Gianna. Maybe it was the feeling that Castile had done everything
right but still lost his life. Maybe it was just that Floyd lived so
close to where the incident happened. Whatever it was, Castile’s
death haunted Floyd. One day, he was hanging with Hall when
Castile’s death came up. Floyd looked at his friend and said, “I
know these cops just waiting to kill a big Black nigga like me.”H
all and Floyd did not know each other when they were in
Houston but became fast friends in early 2018. After Floyd’s
experience working with the homeless at the Salvation Army,
where he sometimes ended nights in tears after having to
forcefully turn away unruly or intoxicated clients, he wanted to
give Hall a chance when others didn’t. When Hall did not have aabout the wonders of Minneapolis. Faculty told her about the
Minnesota miracle and the affordability of housing, that the
conditions of poverty that afflicted so many Black communities
around the country were not so bad there. Her first few months in
the city, she believed it. Because of the disproportionate number
of Fortune 500 companies in Minneapolis, it was relatively easy
to run into educated, affluent Black people who had moved there
like she had. But as she established herself in the larger
community, the racial discord became apparent.
The most obvious issue was policing. When 22-year-old
Terrance Franklin was killed in his home in May 2013, Levy
Armstrong noticed the skepticism within Black neighborhoods
regarding the official police narrative about his death. Police said
that Franklin had grabbed an officer’s gun. There were no body
cameras back then to verify their story — but the family pointed
to a video shot by a neighbor across the street that captures
Franklin saying, “Let me go!” to the officers, as well as someone
shouting racial epithets at him. Hennepin County Attorney Mike
Freeman gave the case to a grand jury, which cleared the officers
of wrongdoing.
Maurice Hall met Floyd in
2018 and they quickly
forged a friendship. Floyd
joined Hall as he ran
errands on Memorial Day- As the situation
escalated between police
and Floyd at CUP Foods,
Hall was being held
around the corner by a
parks officer and couldn’t
see or hear his friend’s
distress. When Hall asked
what was going on, he was
told not to move because
he was being detained.
After the officer said he
was free to go, Hall left
thinking he’d catch up
with Floyd later. “I had
emotions,” Hall said. “I let
him down, you know what
I’m saying?” Hall moved
back to Houston and
pleaded the Fifth in the
trial of former police
officer Derek Chauvin.