Why I Have Hated Cops Since College – Written February 27, 2003

On the evening of February 26, 2003, a situation occurred between members of the Theta Chi fraternity and my apartment, 1F.

At approximately 9:30 pm my roommate Ben Moats and I were on the exterior of our apartment smoking cigarettes and we saw that people standing outside 3B were spitting over the balcony onto the ground right next to us. Ben politely requested that they stop spitting on what is fundamentally our front porch, after which two more globs of spit splattered at our feet. We, along with two of our friends who were coming out of our apartment at the time, walked up to 3B and stood on the stairwell arguing over whether or not people should spit down the stairwell. It was the opinion of the occupants of 3B that, “This is where we spit. We’re not going to stop just because you happen to live there.” The situation was eventually settled in Ben making a remark as to how dismayed he was with their disrespect toward us and our house, after which we walked down the stairs to our apartment.

At approximately 11:00, Ben and I were once again outside smoking and, once again, noticed people spitting. This time, I attempted to handle the situation with one of the guests outside 3B, who was more than willing to cooperate and not spit until the occupants of 3B got involved and began to shower us in more spit. We had a large number of people in our apartment at the time, as did 3B. Ben began to walk up the stairs from our apartment and Shayne Sakson (an occupant of 3B) began walking down the stairs from 3B; they met between the first and second level. Immediately, the occupancies of both apartments found themselves to the stairwell, which quickly filled from top to bottom. I was standing in the middle of the action both observing and having my friend’s back. The scuffle escalated until Shayne challenged Ben to a fight, which Ben refused, after which Shayne was pulled back by his brothers. It all took about fifteen minutes to break the whole thing – five minutes later the police showed up with David Gouge, the Resident Director, and Connie, the RA for the apartment.

I had left my apartment and came back to find that the mass of people were still within the apartment. They were asked numerous times to leave but simply would not leave. I walked into my room and suddenly became aware of an unsettling silence throughout my apartment. After exiting my room to observe what caused the decibel change, I found myself facing an empty apartment and a knock at my door. After letting the two officers, David, and Connie in my apartment, we discussed the situation upstairs along with five plastic cups that had minimal amounts of beer in them. Our identities were recorded and the police left. Shortly afterwards, I went to bed, though I didn’t fall asleep – I was trying to figure out what to do about the situation that we were finding ourselves in.

At approximately 1:00, I heard a loud banging on my front door. I arose from my bed and walked into Wes’, my other roommate’s, room to view the image of our exterior security camera on his television. We observed a large group of men beating on and attempting to kick our door down. I returned to my room, put some pants on, and entered the kitchen just as Ben was getting dragged out by a group of Theta Chi’s led by Shayne and thrown onto the pavement. I grabbed my jacket, checked the security camera and did not see anything, after which I looked through our peephole and saw that Shayne had Ben in a “full Nelson” and surrounding Theta Chi’s were taking body shots on him. I immediately called security and then 911 requesting police assistance. I then exited my apartment and saw Ben surrounded by Theta Chi’s being pushed around, which I helped stop along with a few other people. Moments later the police and David Gouge showed up and the situation was ended. Ben suffered serious head trauma (his head was bashed into the cement by someone and he had a lump the size of a goose egg) which was virtually ignored by the police because Ben was intoxicated. Though I explained my side of the situation the the police, I was never asked to take an official statement, and the police finally concluded that there was insufficient evidence to charge anyone.

When asked, “What should I do if these guys come back to attack him again,” I was told by an officer, “Call the police.” I responded by saying, “I did that this time, and you aren’t doing shit!” She replied, “It’s not our job to protect you.”

Wow. Needless to say, we ended up moving apartments. We didn’t have the money to move anywhere fancy like The Cole (go now), but our new place was a million times better than that one.

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