Black Life Texas
Dealing – Part III

A Mother’s Justice – A Short Story by Caleb Alexander
I stared across the room at my husband. He was still in his uniform, having come home from work specifically to attend this meeting. My husband, Wendell, was actually Lt. General Wendell Arison of the United States Air Force’s Air Training Command, based out of Randolph Air Force Base. He was deputy commander after having been recently promoted from a staff intelligence officer. Before being shifted to Intel, Wendell had been a fighter pilot for his entire career. He had deployed to Bosnia, Iraq, Afghanistan, and numerous other places over his illustrious career. The day he was given a desk, Wendell said that the Air Force had put him out to pasture. That had been the saddest day of his life up until now.
Wendell nodded, acknowledging my look. After 30 years of marriage, he knew my look; he knew all of my looks. I was tired of all the talk, tired of all these people in our home. Reverend Royce meant well, he truly did, but the more these folks talked, the worse I felt. And the saddest part about the entire meeting is that they were all talking amongst themselves, and Wendell and I had been relegated to mere observer status in our own home.
“I tell you, we should announce a big lawsuit!” Reverend Henricks said forcefully while banging his fist on my end table. “One-hundred-million-dollars! That should get everyone’s attention.”
“I agree!” said Vernon Clark, Esq. “We need to send a message.”
“The NAACP is ready to do whatever it takes,” Reverend Henricks said enthusiastically.
“Our law firm can draw up the suit and have it ready to go in days,” added Reginald Thompson, Esq.
“And how does this help to bring to justice the cop who murdered my son,” I asked. I couldn’t take it anymore. The entire meeting had been about suing the city, suing the county, suing the state, suing the hospital system, and nothing, absolutely nothing, about bringing to justice the man who murdered my son.
“You hit them in their pocket!” Vernon Clark answered. “That’s how you get justice.”
“How is that justice if the cop who killed him is still walking free?” I asked.
“Sister, I know how this works, trust me,” Reverend Hendricks said, chiming in. “You want justice, you sue the city, and I guarantee you the city will take action!”
“Qualified immunity won’t allow us to go after the officer directly,” Reginald Thompson added.
“And the police unions are going to step in and make sure that this officer doesn’t get fired,” Wendell told them. “So, what recourse do we really have? How do we get justice for our son? Have you seen what they are saying on the news about my son? Have you?” Wendell’s booming voice reverberated throughout the room.
I rose from my sofa.
“All I’ve heard for the last two and a half hours are strategies about suing everyone.” I turned toward Reverend Royce. “I thought we were going to defend my baby? I thought this was about getting him justice?”
“There are all kinds of ways to get justice, my sister,” Reverend Henricks chimed in. “We can make sure that this never happens again.”
“As part of the lawsuit, there will be a demand for police reform, better training, new body cameras,” Vernon Clark added.
“New body cameras?” I asked. “They are lying and saying that the brand new body cameras they just bought malfunctioned! How can you lose not only the body cam footage of all the officers at the scene but also the 911 call? They’re lying! They murdered my son, and now they’re covering it up!”
“Of course they are!” Reverend Henricks said. “And we are going to make them pay. Tyree is gone, and they are going to pay for what they did.”
“Pay? Pay?” And that was when I lost it. “Pay how much? How much is the going life of a son? A hundred million? Two hundred million? A billion? They could offer me all the money in the world, and it wouldn’t be enough! I want my son!”
“If I could…” Reverend Henricks started to speak.
“Get out,” I said softly at first.
“Mrs. Arison,” Reginald Thompson started.
“Get out!” I said forcefully. “I don’t want money; I don’t want to sue anyone. I just want justice for my son! Get out!”
To Be Continued ….
Black Life Texas
Power Book II: Ghost Debuts in Starz


The “Power” franchise is back again and adding some Mary J. Blige flair to its latest sequel.
This time, “Power Book II: Ghost” is told through the eyes of young Tariq St. Patrick, the central character, trying to navigate his life to shed his father’s legacy and coming up against the mounting pressure to save his family. Along the way, Tariq gets entangled in the affairs of the cutthroat Tejada family, adding further complications as he tries to balance his drug operations with his education, love life, family affairs, and mounting pressure from Cooper Saxe. He divides his time between school and hustling to pay for his mother’s defense attorney, but Tariq turns to a familiar drug game when he runs out of options.

The “Power” franchise is a television series created and produced by Courtney A. Kemp in collaboration with Curtis “50 Cent” Jackson. Upon release in 2014, the series, which airs on Starz, earned positive reviews and is one of the network’s most highly-rated shows.
This spinoff stars Michael Rainey Jr. as Tariq, Shane Johnson as Cooper Saxe, Method Man as Davis Maclean, Mary J. Blige as Moet, Larenz Tate as Councilman Tate, Lovell Adams-Gray as Dru Tejada, and many more familiar characters.
Since 2014, the franchise has spun off into “PowerBook II: Ghost,” “PowerBook III: Raising Kanan,” and “Powerbook IV: Force and BMF.”
Last September, Jackson announced he was leaving Starz. And recently, in February, he announced a multiyear broadcast direct deal with Fox, which is offering him the platform to develop scripted dramas, comedies, and animated series that would air on the network.
Black Life Texas
American Red Cross: On the Right Side of History


On June 1, 1921, over 7,500 angry white Tulsan, armed with weapons and a determination to destroy, crossed the Frisco Railroad Tracks into the segregated Greenwood section of North Tulsa, also known as Black Wall Street. They slaughtered over 300 men, women, and children within seven hours while literally burning down all the businesses and homes within a 33-block area.
After the State National Guard finally arrived in the city and ended that savagery, over 7,000 Black American citizens were left without homes, no food, and their hospital had been destroyed. At that time in the country’s history, it was the worst single-day massacre of fellow citizens and their property.
In 1921 no organizations were willing to assist the 7,000 distraught, homeless men, women and children, except the American Red Cross. Founded in 1881, the organization had never assisted victims of a manmade disaster, especially when those victims happened to be Black. However, Maurice Willows, director of the Southwest Division of the Red Cross, insisted that the organization come to the rescue of what he considered his fellow citizens of the country. He called on his workers to respond as a matter of human life and led a team of volunteers from across the area into the ravaged community to assist what he termed the Black “riot victims.”
Willows’s first act was to order “the incumbent city officials to abdicate power to him for a 60-day period.” He then set up his operating headquarters at the Booker T. Washington High School. For some reason, the high school was not torched. He also set up a makeshift hospital inside one of the classrooms. With the extreme possibility of disease spreading due to the number of dead bodies lying in the streets, Willows obtained vaccines and inoculated 1,800 people against tetanus, typhoid, and smallpox. According to the Red Cross records, 163 operations were conducted in the make-shift hospital, saving a considerable number of lives. The Red Cross also attended to 763 lesser wounded men, women, and children.
The Red Cross workers set up tents throughout the community for the residents whose homes had been burned to the ground from turpentine-soaked explosives thrown from low-flying airplanes. Many of those residents lived in tents throughout the winter of 1921-22. One special tent was erected and filled with sewing machines. The women were put to work making clothes, quilts, cot pads, sheets, and pillows, while the men helped to erect the tents.

The Red Cross stayed in Tulsa for seven months and spent over $100,000 in its sustained relief effort. Along with the material necessities, they also provided the angry and often depressed residents of Greenwood with a much-needed psychological uplift. When it appeared that all was lost, Willows and the other white volunteers showed up and immediately gave the distraught residents hope. They were extremely grateful for Willows and the others that accompanied him to Tulsa. In a letter sent to him years later by a collective assembly of Black Tulsa residents, they wrote, “Thank God for the Red Cross helping us to shut out of our lives that what is evil.”
No doubt that early in its existence, the American Red Cross was on the right side of history.
Red Cross Black History Facts (from the website of the American Red Cross)
Frederick Douglass, a prominent abolitionist, orator, and author, first met Red Cross founder Clara Barton shortly after the end of the Civil War. During the war, Barton risked her life to bring supplies and support to soldiers, including the all-Black Massachusetts 54th Regiment, which Douglass recruited. The story of the 54th Regiment formed the basis for the 1991 film “Glory.”
Douglass offered advice and support to Barton in her efforts to gain American acceptance as a member nation of the global Red Cross network. Douglass signed the original Articles of Incorporation for the Red Cross, which later documented the creation of the American Red Cross.
Frances Reed Elliott Davis was the first officially registered African American nurse to be accepted into the Red Cross Nursing Service, where she provided medical care for the families of service members during World War I.
Mary McLeod Bethune was an advisor to the U.S. president. She was invited to two American Red Cross wartime conferences to discuss African American representation within the organization. As a result of these conferences, the “Committee on Red Cross Activities with Respect to the Negro” formed. Bethune was one of five committee members who made recommendations on the blood plasma project, the use of African-American staff in overseas service clubs, the enrollment of African-American nurses and the representation of African Americans on local and national Red Cross committees and staff departments.
Dr. Jerome Holland became a member of the American Red Cross Board of Governors in 1964. President Jimmy Carter later appointed him as chairman of the American Red Cross Board of Governors in 1979. He was the first African American to hold this position (one of the highest-ranking positions at the Red Cross). Because of his commitment to the Red Cross, he was appointed again in 1982. While serving on the board, Dr. Holland showed a passion for blood research and took the lead in consolidating growing laboratory operations for the Red Cross Blood Services program. After his death in 1985, the organization named its biomedical research facility in Rockville, Md., the Jerome H. Holland Laboratory for the Biomedical Sciences.
Black Life Texas
Game, Match, Set – Part Five

A Mother’s Justice – A Short Story by Caleb Alexander
“There’s been a lot of strange things happening around this case, your honor!” Defense Attorney Gabe Kline said, standing next to his client. He had been hired by the Fraternal Order of Police to represent the man who killed my son.
“We have mysterious USBs showing up at the police station, at the local and national news stations, at the district attorney’s office, and God knows where else. I find it mighty disturbing that police body camera footage, footage that was completely lost, was somehow found and then distributed in this manner. 9-1-1 calls that were lost have magically turned up and somehow found their way to the media. Don’t you find this a little strange, your honor?”
“Make your point, counselor,” Judge Phillipa Bass ordered.
“My point is, judge, my client has rights,” Gabe Kline argued. “This body cam footage is highly prejudicial and misleading under the best of circumstances. It doesn’t convey the full picture of what happened that day. And having it spread all over the news is going to deny my client his Constitutional Right to an unbiased jury and thus a fair trial.”
“To my understanding, in every single similar case, where there has been an officer-involved shooting, the police departments themselves have released incident footage to the public,” Judge Bass replied. “Why would it not be in this case? The media has been highly opinionated in this case from the very beginning. When they were insinuating drug involvement before the autopsy report was made public that showed that narrative was false, I didn’t hear a peep about public scrutiny or potential bias.”
“Judge, I move for a mistrial,” Kline stated.
“On what grounds?”
“The release of the body cam footage.”
“Denied,” Judge Bass said. “Take it up with SAPD.”
“They aren’t the ones who released that footage!” Kline said forcefully.
“They’re the only ones who had access to it,” Judge Bass told him. “If it came from anywhere, it came from there.”
“Judge, I move for a motion to suppress the body camera footage and the 9-1-1 tapes,” Kline said.
“Let me get this straight,” Judge Bass said, leaning forward and peering over the spectacles resting on her nose. “You want to suppress evidence that the world has already seen, and that came from the police department?”
“It shouldn’t be considered, it’s misleading and prejudicial.”
“Oh, I think it’s very relevant, and I think that the jury should see it as part of the truth-seeking function of the trial process,” Judge Bass said sternly. “Your motion is denied.”
“This is bull crap!” Officer Vincent Mayorga shouted. “This whole thing is a setup! It’s rigged! The whole thing has been rigged!”
I stared at the monster who killed my son. I wanted to run to the defense table and choke the life out of him. I knew that I was squeezing the blood out of my husband’s hand.
“Order! Order in the court!” Phillipa shouted, banging her gavel. “Counselor, control your client, or I’ll find you both in contempt!”
“This is a setup!” Officer Mayorga shouted. He rose from his seat, causing the bailiffs to rush to his table and constrain him. “How could I have an all-Black grand jury? How? In this city? How? And then a Black prosecutor? And a Black judge?”
“You have a problem with my ethnicity?” Phillipa asked, peering over her glasses.
“No, your honor!” Kline said, grabbing his client. “He’s just a little distraught right now!”
“This system is rigged!” Officer Mayorga shouted.
“Bailiff, remove him from my courtroom!” Phillipa said, banging her gavel. “Officer Mayorga, you are hereby in contempt of court. Your bail is hereby revoked. All motions are hereby dismissed. This trial is set for Monday! I will have you restrained and gagged if you try this on Monday, Officer Mayorga. And if that is the way you want to sit in front of the jury, that is fine with me! Court is dismissed!”
Assistant District Attorney Genevieve Kingston gathered her materials and then walked to where I was seated. “I have this, you can stop now.”
“Vivi, what are you talking about?” I asked.
“Really?” she asked, tilting her head. “Girl, stop. I don’t want anything coming back on appeal. I got him.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The 9-1-1 call? The body cam footage showing up at my office?”
“Not me.”
“Then you tell Tenayson that I’m going to kill her!” Genevieve winked at me and walked off. “I got this, girlfriend! Trust me, I got this!”
To Be Continued ….
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