In speaking to Errol Louis, he too was a frequent visitor to the Timbuktu Center at the House of the Lord Church. He used to come down from Boston as a student with a group of students headed by Reverend Eugene Rivers. Eugene is an interesting personality. I cannot write in which he is referenced without relating in a few lines his amazing story. From the inner city of Philadelphia, he decided to travel up to Yale University and enroll in classes. Without officially matriculating he began to sit in on classes as a regular student. Eventually, it was discovered that he had not registered because he was doing such good work, and they searched him. When they had located him they questioned him and yes he had taken the classes without registering. They allowed him to continue and gave him financial consideration. In time he graduated. He began to organize students and he would bring them down to the church and within the group was Errol Louis. Eugene became a member and a minister of our church and I ordained him. He has made a name for himself in the academic circle. When he read the article he called me and conveyed to me the wide exposure the article had gained. And there were other young future news people and a little more well-established. Gill Noble the legendary Gill Noble was also a frequent visitor as a lecturer and as a member of what we called “the family”. As I have stated, there was such a feeling of togetherness that it was like a family. Also, Andy Cooper has already been mentioned by Errol Louis. Earl Caldwell of Daily News and Gerald Fraser of New York Times, and of course Percy Sutton. He was like a godfather. His hand was in many ventures. He was a political guru and a businessman. In particular, he was the owner of WLIB and WBLS which was generous in allowing us the time to announce whatever was happening (at the house) as we called the church and the Timbuktu Learning Center. The terms were used interchangeably. Most people did not make a separation or a distinction. To them, it was the church or the house. In addition to what Mr. Louis had written in September 1983 when the Reverend Jesse Jackson was trying to make up his mind to run for the presidency of the United States of America. He came to Assemblyman Al Vann and me and asked us to convene New York Black Leadership to discuss with him the decision to run or not to run. We proceeded to do so. The church was filled to capacity, and every black leader of any consequence was present. The Reverend stated there were three things he needed, “the masses, the machinery, and the money” and if we could help him get those things he would throw his hat in the ring. Well, we did help him and so he ran. It was a phenomenal campaign. While he didn’t win the White House he won a whole lot of other things, including encouraging many ppl to run for office and get involved in the electoral process, and the President Barack Obama and many other elected officials who are now in power should thank the Reverend Jesse Jackson. In 1989, David Dinkins decided to run for Mayor of New York City. We campaigned hard for Dinkins. There were three developments that played a significant role in his victory which emanated from the church. As Dinkins’ campaign was getting underway, there wasn’t much enthusiasm. He came to our church for a rally. It was a critical moment. Mr. Dinkins had not been drawing the crowds and the enthusiasm left much to be desired. The evening he came for the rally during the day we secured a sound truck and went up and down the street announcing the rally. We were able to get Harry Belafonte and Reverend Jackson to participate in the rally. That night the church was standing room only and the speakers, particularly Jackson and Belafonte poured fuel on the flickering flames of the campaign. When the rally was over, the people departed and you could feel the change. They were fired up. Another incident occurred that helped to inject more fuel into the fire of the campaign. Yusuf Hawkins, a young Black man was shot to death by whites in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn in August 1989. Anger was pervasive in the Black communities, especially young people. I was sitting in the church office with Chris Griffin whose younger brother Michael had been chased by a white mob to his death by oncoming traffic on a highway in Howard Beach. I received a call from Bill Lynch, Dinkins’s campaign manager asking me if Dinkins should visit Yusuf Hawkins’s home in Brooklyn. I was uncertain and said to Bill Lynch, “what do you think?” and he said back to me, “that’s your call.” I pondered the question and realized the risk if Dinkins should be boo’d it would damage his campaign maybe irreparably. On the other hand, if he was accepted or even applauded it would help the campaign. I turned to Chris and asked what do you think. He said, “when my brother was killed we welcomed anyone who wanted to support the family.” I called Bill Lynch back and told him to let’s go to see the family of Yusuf Hawkins. Dinkins drove by the church. I got in the car and we went out to see the family. When we arrived and the crowd knew that Dinkins had arrived boisterous cheers went up that reverberated up and down the streets. When Dinkins alighted from the car the crowd surged forward. They patted him on the back, hugged and the family expressed overwhelming gratitude. Only God knows how relieved I was, more than that, how overjoyed I was. In 1999, I received a call from the Rev. Dr. Gardner C. Taylor. The prominent, internationally renowned pastor of Concord Baptist Church and also President of the Progressive Baptist Convention (PBC). He suggested that we convene clergy and elected officials for a support rally for David Dinkins. He made a similar call to Al Vann. He suggested that the rally be held at the House of the Lord Church. This decision on his part spoke to the graciousness of his suggesting our church when everyone knew Concord Baptist is probably the largest church in New York City and surely the most well-known across the world. It is comparable to the Riverside Church in Manhattan. Needless to say, the church was jam-packed seemingly with every Black elected official and clergy. We spoke of our support for Dave Dinkins and what we propose to do ie. raise money, organize our people, speak at rallies, etc. Well, Dinkins won and I’m certain we played a major role in his victory. After the election was over we decided that since we had been so successful we should formalize the organization and continue working to advance the cause of our people. We named our group the African American Clergy and Elected Officials (AACEO). We drafted a constitution and bylaws. I was voted Chair. Congressman Ed Towns was voted vice-chair. I continued as chair until I resigned six years later and the Rev. Jacob Underwood of Grace Baptist Church became chair. The organization still exists chaired by Rev. Dr. Robert Waterman of Antioch Baptist Church. Yes, the House of the Lord Church has been an incubator that has birthed so many men and women of African Ancestry who now occupy positions of power, influence, and prestige and making positive contributions to building a better world. He wrote about the Atlantic Yards project when it was trying to survive. To be continued…

I want to thank Errol Louis, New York Daily News Columnist and NY1 News anchor for the article July 10, 2021, What Eric Adams represents: Appreciate the Rise of Black political power in New York. In particular, I want to express my deepest appreciation and gratitude for his referencing our church, the House of the Lord Pentecostal Church as the incubator, to the large extent of the present power we enjoy. I’m going to share his article after which I will record some of the important events and personalities to confirm and expand upon what Mr. Louis has written: Eric Adams seemed equal parts dazed and delighted on a primary night, amazed at what he and his team had accomplished. The prestige they were poised to claim, the awesome responsibility they were about to shoulder. The power. “What a moment,” he told his followers. “The little guy won today.” Call it the soul of a new machine, the fulfillment of a generational dream. Adams is part of one of the biggest untold stories of New York politics: the steady rise of Black power in every corner of the city. How did we get here? The history-making election of David Dinkins in 1989 as the city’s first Black mayor showed a glimpse of what was possible and planted seeds everywhere. But even that groundbreaking achievement had been preceded by a long incubation period, during which the city’s demography was changing rapidly — and Black political aspirations began to bubble and boil. In 1950, shortly after World War II, New York was 85% white. A tremendous confluence of forces brought explosive diversity to the city: liberalized immigration rules in 1965 allowed for waves of newcomers from the Caribbean, Asia, and South America. At the same time, white New Yorkers departed by the hundreds of thousands, pushed by a severe, sustained economic decline in the city and attracted to segregated suburbs by a combination of financial incentives and cultural pressure, packaged and sold as the American dream of homeownership. By 1990, according to census figures, the city’s white population had fallen by half while minorities increased by 4 million, dramatically reshaping the city’s labor force. It was only a matter of time before these new communities began knocking on the door at City Hall, electing local leaders, and rising through the ranks of the civil service. That is the fertile soil in which the seeds of Adams’s restless ambition were born. Some aspiring Black community leaders followed the traditional paths of joining a political club, working in a politician’s office, or delivering services through one of the city’s many religious, charitable, civic, and civil rights organizations — all of which are excellent places to learn the ins and outs of how the system works. Adams’s unorthodox path to leadership began in the hotbed of Brooklyn’s Black activist politics of the 1970s and 80s, which were infused with, and ran alongside, an equally powerful movement of Afrocentric cultural pride. This brings us to the remarkable story of the House of the Lord Pentecostal Church on Atlantic Ave. A broad swath of Black politics and culture is connected to the church and its longtime pastor emeritus, the Rev. Herbert Daughtry. The church offered a big tent of activism and intellectual ferment that attracted a boatload of future leaders. In the 1970s, visitors might hear a lecture by a young Harvard graduate, Cornel West, who spent a year in residence at the church writing “Prophesy Deliverance!: An Afro-American Revolutionary Christianity,” the first of his many books. Daughtry’s chief of staff was a young Charles Barron, who eventually launched a long career in city and state politics. (He recently won the Democratic primary for a City Council seat in East New York that he and his wife, Inez Barron, have held for the last 20 years.) And Daughtry was the co-founder and first chairman of the National Black United Front, a political alliance that mobilized thousands of New Yorkers on local, national, and international issues — with a special focus on the hot-button issue of police brutality. At the time, activists affiliated with the church were in a state of near-constant mobilization, responding to terrible incidents like the fatal, point-blank shooting of a 15-year-old child named Randolph Evans by a cop who said he had been fired due to a “psychotic episode” — the first and last of his life — when a group of children ran up to him. Or the 1978 killing of Arthur Miller, a businessman who was swarmed by 16 officers and killed after a traffic stop in Crown Heights (no officers were prosecuted). The charismatic Daughtry enlisted a young Eric Adams in the battle. “Rev. Herbert Daughtry and others got tired of fighting from the outside. They later assembled 13 of us in the basement of the House of the Lord Church and told us that they wanted us to go into law enforcement and fight from within,” Adams told me. “I had so much faith in them — I was the youth leader of the Black United Front at the time — and I joined” the New York Police Department. Going into the department in the mid-1980s with the explicit mission of reforming the NYPD was a tall order at the time, but Adams says he was determined to do something about police abuse. “I benchmarked my life by those shootings. I grew up [in Queens] blocks from where Clifford Glover was shot. Ten years old. He was just running down New York Blvd. [now Guy R. Brewer Blvd.],” he told me. It was one of those horrific cases that much of New York has forgotten. In 1973, a cop named Thomas Shea and his partner were looking for a robbery suspect when they came across Clifford and his stepfather, who fled in a panic when the cops leaped from their unmarked car brandishing weapons without identifying themselves. Shea shot the fourth-grader in the back three times, later telling a jury that the child had made a “reaching motion.” He became the first NYPD officer ever charged with a homicide committed while on duty and was acquitted by a jury, triggering massive demonstrations. “I was not allowed to cross over New York Blvd. after that shooting,” Adams told me. “My mother was so fearful of what happened on that corner. It’s traumatizing. It shapes your whole relationship with law enforcement.” As an activist-turned-cop, Adams was a frequent public presence on matters of NYPD conduct and eventually turned to politics, running an unsuccessful campaign for Congress before hitting his stride and winning a state Senate seat in 2006. He wasn’t the only one learning the ropes. Tish James had spent years working for Assemblymen Al Vann and Roger Green — two ex-teachers who’d emerged from the 1968 Ocean Hill-Brownsville strike. Hakeem Jeffries, a young attorney, made a run for Assembly and founded a political club, building the backing that carried him into Congress in a notable run against Barron. Ken Thompson, an assistant U.S. attorney, played a high-profile role in prosecuting the cops who brutalized Abner Louima in 1997 and later began floating the idea of running for district attorney. My friend Patrick Gaspard, who’d started out as an advance man on the Dinkins campaign, spent time under the tutelage of the late Bill Lynch and then became a top-notch labor organizer as the political director of SEIU Local 1199 and eventually joined the Obama team, serving as White House political director and later executive director of the Democratic National Committee. And a much wider circle of Black professionals found their way into crucial, lesser-known areas of government and political influence. Taharka Robinson, a community activist and campaign operative whose mother, Annette Robinson, was a longtime fixture in the Assembly, has built a cottage industry by helping more than a dozen Black and Latino judges get elected. Daughtry’s own daughter, Leah — one of the famous “Colored Girls,” a renowned quartet of Washington-based Black women political operatives — became chief of staff of the DNC and CEO of the 2008 and 2012 national conventions. And a local cluster of Black women movers and shakers — including my wife, Juanita Scarlett — has been quietly helping candidates, especially women of color, run for office and win. Even Black journalists like me, who have chronicled the rise of these folks, are part of the broad movement. I was hanging around the House of the Lord even before landing my first job out of college at the now-defunct City Sun newspaper. The paper’s founder, Andy Cooper, was a first-rate muckraker and political agitator. He led protests outside the offices of then-Gov. Nelson Rockefeller and was the plaintiff in a 1966 lawsuit against the Board of Elections, Cooper vs. Power, that broke up the racial gerrymandering that had prevented the swelling Black community of Central Brooklyn from electing a member of Congress. The result of the case was a redrawn district that kept Bedford-Stuyvesant intact — and led to the election of Shirley Chisholm as the nation’s first Black congresswoman two years later. Alumni of the City Sun include Joe Sexton, who later became metro editor of the New York Times; Milton Allimadi, who went on to found the Black Star News and Carolyn Butts, the founder of African Voices. All of which is to say that shallow, sloppy commentary that marks Adams as nothing more than a product of the Brooklyn Democratic machine is completely missing the point. The journey to political power for New York’s Black community has been a broad, long, hard road, full of setbacks, disappointments, defeats, and dead ends. But the lawsuits and long years of community-building have begun to pay off. If Adams wins in November, it will mark a high tide of Black political power in New York. Black officials currently chair four of the five Democratic county organizations in the city. The Legislature is run by two Black officials, Assembly Speaker Carl Heastie, and Senate Majority Leader, Andrea Stewart-Cousins, and Tish James is the attorney general. New York’s congressional delegation now has seven Black members, the largest number of Black politicians ever sent to Congress from any state. The almost certain-to-be next Manhattan DA, Alvin Bragg, is a Black man. That is why Adams seems so happy and amazed at where fate has landed him. He is part of a generation that has scaled the high peaks, and now sees the glittering summit in sight. What a moment. To be continued….

We will continue our series When Police Kill Our Children, with the life and times of Randolph Evans. We have covered Clifford Glover, Phillip Panell, (Arthur Miller, though he was not a youth, but the date of his death occurred in the middle of our series.) Now we will focus on Randy Evans and conclude with a list of youth killed by the police. I could not do all of the youths killed, yet I didn’t want to leave anyone out, so I’ve listed all of the youth I could remember and research. Randy was killed by a police officer, Robert Torsney, in November 1976. The following year, almost to the day the jury pretty much acquitted the killer cop. The jury/judge said Torsney had a rare disease, psycho-motor epileptic seizure and therefore sentenced him to psychiatric treatments with weekends home. It should be pointed out that the epileptic foundation disassociated itself from this rare disease. It has been so with all of the cases cited except Russell Ross killed in September 1967. The killer cops all were white, and all were exonerated. The killing and the sentences, the community was furious. We knew we had to do something different and dramatic. Prior to Randy there had been: July 1964, Jimmy Powell, 15 years old, killed in Brooklyn, NY September 1967, Russell Ross, 15 years old August 15, 1972, Ricky Bodden, he was 10 years old, Staten Island April 28, 1973, Clifford Glover, Brooklyn September 1974, Claude Reese, Brooklyn The four of us had been meeting for about 6-7 months analyzing our powerless situation in Brooklyn. It seemed that we were powerless in every regard, social, political, cultural, economic, etc. We looked at our numbers. Brooklyn had the largest concentration of people of African Ancestry in the Western Hemisphere. Over 1.5 million of our people lived in Brooklyn. We have come from many lands and had various stories to tell about our lives. Yet, with all of our numbers and diversity we were pretty much powerless. We decided that we would provide leadership for the community's fury and anger. We put forth a three-prong tactic. To the city, we demanded a blue-ribbon commission on the needs of our youth and why police killed our youths. To the federal court we demanded: 1) Robert Torsney to be indicted for the violation of Randy Evans’ civil rights. This federal law was put in place primarily in the South where juries would never convict a white man or woman no matter what they did to an African American. 2) By creating a violation of the victims civil rights, it did not jeopardize the perpetrators rights of double jeopardy. 3) And thirdly, we demanded from the business community ten demands which included: A percentage of profits of businesses and minority banks Minority Media Advertising Minority employment in construction Maintenance of the Fulton Mall Randolph Evans Community Crisis Fund and Randolph Evans Scholarship Fund Minority employment A Brooklyn fair for minority vendors Space for pendula's to set up their tables and sell their products Community advisory Committee Entertainment Complex, (presently we wrote there is a multi-million-dollar development under construction in Downtown Brooklyn. Some aspect of this development is exactly what we had argued for in our initial meeting with the merchants in 1978.) Those were the three targets and we called for Black Christmas 1977. The boycott lasted for about 8 months until the business community conceded our demands. The city under Mayor Ed Koch said that they were already organizing a youth commission and a meeting was set up with then Commissioner, Robert Wire. We did not succeed with the indictment of Robert Torsney. In addition to our tactic our objective was clear. We wanted to perpetuate the memory of Randy, empower the people and create a movement. These three things we did. Saturday, June 25th will be the 43rd Scholarship Fund Ceremony for two years there was a hiatus due to covid-19. We created a movement out of which became the National Black United Front (NBUF), Black Veterans for Social justice (BVSJ), African People Christian Organization (APCO) and many others. In addition, we enhanced the already existing organization, thus out of the movement grew the people's empowerment. We will always remember Jitu Weusi and Dr. Sam Pinn who have made their transition. Assemblyman Al Vann is still here. This Saturday, as I have mentioned we will be celebrating our 43rd year of the scholarship fund. The eternal credit goes to my wife, Dr. Karen Daughtry who from the inception has coordinated the ceremonies. Once we had the agreement from the business community, we did a rare thing. We gathered all of the people who had participated in a long boycott in the heat of summer and the cold of winter to a conference at Ramapo College campus in New Jersey. Dr. Sam Pinn was a professor there, in addition he was Chair of Brooklyn Congress of Racial Equality (CORE). Jitu was the creator and Head of the East, a multi-dimensional culture of educational, businesses, enterprises, etc. and the creator of what was then called the African Street Theater. Now it is the International Festival held annually on the 4th of July Weekend and Al Vann was our political leader. At the conference, I said, I did not want anything but the perpetuation of the Randy Evans scholarship program. The business community agreed to fund the program for 5 years, 10-college bound students $1,500.00. After the 5th year, they liked the program so much they continued funding it for another 5 years. After which we have been raising the funds to implement the program. I said that I want my wife to be responsible and to coordinate the Randy Evans Scholarship program. I could think of no one who I knew would carry forward the program and would not just be another scholarship program. But it would be a program with the highest professionalism and expertise. The years have proved me right. And again, Saturday will be the 43rd anniversary. Website: www.randyevansscholarship.org

The New Jersey Religious and Cultural Ministries P.O. Box 3254 Teaneck, NJ 07666 201-441-4159 or 718-596-1991 Rev. Dr. Herbert Daughtry, National Minister FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE January 13, 1991 CRITICISM OF GARY SPATH TRIAL It is difficult to understand the rules and regulations implemented by the judges and attorneys and the decorum of some of the security personnel in the Gary Spath Trial. Prior to jury selection, there was a different climate. There were less restrictions, the court personnel were relaxed and courteous. Peace and order prevailed. Once jury selection commenced, a radical transformation occurred, both in rules and regulations and in the demeanor of Court personnel. They became tense, rude, and disrespectful of both the community and press. Four decisions by the Court and attorneys – you are never quite sure who is making the rules – were protested by the Pannell Family and the community. Size of Courtroom – the 70-odd seats Over 50 were taken by prospective jurors. Exclusion of the community from the Courtroom. Only six family members were permitted inside. This was controlled by issuing six passes to the family, the composition determined by prosecutors. Initially, we were told that it was the judge’s decision. We later learned that it was the prosecutor’s decision. The family and community tried to negotiate to allow the family to determine who would be given passes. And since there were only five family members, just allowing the family to choose whom it would give the extra one pass to. This was rejected. It became clear that they did not want members of the African American community present. We were not able to ascertain if the same rules applied to Spath. There was a priest in his delegation. We were told that the priest was a member of the Spath Family. We were also told that defense attorneys had no rigid rules regarding the composition of the Spath Family. The Courtroom Seating Arrangement The Pannell and Spath Families were intermingled on the first row. The Pannell Family was told if they didn’t like that, they could sit behind the Spath Family. After the Family and community threatened not to proceed under these arrangements, a decision was made to change the seating arrangements, putting the families in different sections of the Courtroom. After the jury selection had ended, and the community was allowed in the Courtroom, the oddities continued, and in some instances, intensified. Court personnel became even more rude and, at times, hostile. I want to criticize: The Courtroom size and structure, which included columns. Its semi-circular shape prevents panoramic views. Negotiation occurred in the judge's chambers to rearrange seating. The Pannell Family elected to remain in seats they occupied rather than move to seats on the side of the yellow tape on them. jury, which would prevent their view of the jury. Seating Arrangements Once again, the insensitivity of the Court was manifested in the seating of the families. In the middle section, there are nine seats per row. Each family was given three seats on the first and second rows, and separated by three seats with yellow tape on them. In the Pannell section, the five members of the Pannell Family left one seat vacant. At the request of the Family, I sought to sit there. I was told I couldn’t sit there. I have never heard of a trial where the family’s minister couldn’t sit with the family. Rules and Regulations Inside Court. Once the judge was seated, no one would be allowed in the Courtroom. Once in the Courtroom, under no circumstances would one be allowed to depart and return. Originally, we were told that even during a recess, we couldn’t leave and return, even if one returned before the judge was seated. After discussion with a police captain, we were told that we could come out of the Courtroom during recess. But we would have to get on line, and be back in Court before the judge was seated. Then as I entered the Courtroom, my notebook was taken and I was informed “no note taking”. I ripped a couple of sheets from the 8.5x11 notebook. Sitting in the Court before the proceedings started, I folded the paper in four parts, and began making “To Do” notes for myself. Immediately, a security officer came over and told me in a stern voice, “No Note Taking”, and remained close by to ensure I obeyed the rules. The silly, provocative, paranoid conduct of the Court and security personnel is contributing significantly to the distrust already prevalent in the African-American community. How else can one explain the Court’s rules and regulations and personnel’s decorum to a community already suspicious, except that they are hiding something, or that they are up to no good. One would have thought that, given the tension, confusion, and suspicion that abounds, the Court would have tried to do all that it could to have the public attend the trial, and would have accorded the public courtesy and accessibility. One word more concerning the all white jury. The African-American community would have felt more hopeful had there been an African-American on the jury. But our experience has taught us that one or two Blacks on a jury doesn’t ensure that a jury will return a just decision. We know there are fair-minded white people in the world. We hope that twelve of them are on this jury. However, we are concerned that two members of the jury have relatives there and are on the police force. And we do wonder why the prosecutor did not exercise his peremptory challenges to exclude them; he only used nine of the twelve allotted to him.

Sharpton, Farrakhan at the wake By Caroline Herzfeld and Thomas Moran The black community came together Sunday night and cried angry tears over Phillip C. Pannell, a black youth killed by a police bullet many said should not have been fired. Pannell’s father emerged from the Community Baptist Church in Englewood as night began to fall. Before him stood about 1,000 people in their Sunday best, old and young, Muslim and Christian, friends of Phillip’s and strangers who wanted to show concern, all waiting to get inside the small church. “My son, my son, I don’t have my son!” cried the dead boy’s father, Phillip. “They shot him in the back! Where is my son?” The crowd was quiet. Teenagers who knew the River Edge youth hugged and cried without words. The Rev. Herbert Daughtry of Teaneck held the bereaved father and whispered to him quietly, “Peace. Peace.” Louis Farrakhan, leader of the Nation of Islam, the black Muslim sect, arrived at the church at about 8 p.m. He was accompanied by the Rev. Al Sharpton and lawyer C. Vernon Mason, civil-rights activists who advised Tawana Brawley when she claimed to have been raped by a gang of white men; and the father of Yusuf Hawkins, a black youth killed by a gang of whites in Brooklyn. The crowd cheered as they walked up the stairs into the church. On the street outside, two dozen of Farrakhan’s followers stood at attention, all men wearing bow ties and jackets and not speaking a word. It was unclear whether the activists spoke at the wake. They departed after about 20 minutes. “I’m delighted they came,” said George Powell, president of the Bergen County chapter of the NAACP. “Their statement was the love and care and concern that they showed. Farrakhan represents a lot to African-Americans. The Muslims are an integral part of America today.” Lester Truesdale, a church trustee, said he had tried to slow the group down but it entered the church quickly and then slowed when its members realized that prayer was going on. “Everyone was trying to stop them from going in so fast,” Truesdale said. “When they came in, you could feel the tension rising.” Emotions ran high even for those who barely knew Pannell. At the bottom of the steep concrete stairs leading into the church, where the dead boy lay in an open casket, Donald Jones was considering whether he should try to go inside again. He is 20 years old and black and says the police have stopped him for routine questioning so many times he has lost count. “I just got up as far as the door, and I just couldn’t go any further,” Jones said quietly. “It could have been me; just because I’m a black man.” Daughtry said he would attend not just Pannell’s funeral today but that of Carlos Fernandez, a black youth in New York City shot by a Transit Police officer. He also plans a visit to the home of Hawkins, the youth killed in Brooklyn by a gang of whites. The accused triggerman and alleged ringleader in the Aug. 23 shooting of Hawkins were to go on trial in Brooklyn today. “Unless something happens, I’m afraid for this country,” he said. “I’m feeling sadness, sorrow, anger, and rage. We’re talking about a 16-year-old boy, a mother who can’t carry the burden, and a father who can’t take it any longer.” Almost everyone at the church Sunday night was black. Among a handful of whites in attendance was Danielle Sarmiento, a sophomore at Teaneck High School who was one of Pannell’s friends. “I just don’t understand it,” she said. “He didn’t do any harm to anyone. He was a good kid.” Pannell was shot Tuesday evening in the backyard of a home on Intervale Road in Teaneck. He was running from police, who had arrived at a nearby field after a neighbor reported that youths were playing with guns. Police say they had searched him and that he had a gun. Several witnesses say he was not searched and did not have a gun. But the shooting was unjustified in either case, as many leaders of the black community believe. Even if the police account is accurate, they say, Pannell did not draw a gun. And he was shot in the back. “I wish people would stop talking about a gun,” said Franklin Wilks, an attorney for the Panel family. “Whether he had a gun on him is irrelevant. The issue is the conduct of that officer.” But politics wasn’t on the mind of many people at Sunday’s wake. It was more personal for them. A woman came out of the church screaming in grief, her knees collapsing as her family gathered around and helped her walk away. One young man went into shock at the wake and was taken to Holy Name Hospital, Teaneck, in an ambulance. A girl fell against a car, weeping and swinging her arms wildly. Before the wake, a group of 20 students met at Dwight Morrow High School in Englewood to organize non-violent and legal protests of the Pannell shooting. “The police single us out,” said Theodore Bolden, a junior at Teaneck High School and an organizer of the group, all of whose members wore white carnations with red ribbons. “You say black, they say trouble.” Cynthia Sanders leaned into a friend's embrace after she came out of the church to take a last look at her friend Phillip in his open casket. She lives in Teaneck and has never felt it was a racist town. But after the shooting, she is not so sure. “ This cuts deep,” she said. “It hurts. They just shouldn’t have shot him. Period.”

1,000 mourn slain black youth By Laurie C. Merrill and Jeff Simmons Record Staff Writers Probers Facing Tangled Tales The grand jury investigation scheduled to begin Tuesday in the shooting death of Phillip C. Pannell is expected to last a month and feature more than 20 witnesses, acting Bergen County Prosecutor John G. Holl said Sunday. The panel of 23 grand jurors will be asked to decide what, if any, charges should be brought in the case of the black youth shot by white Teaneck Police Officer Gary Spath, who has since been suspended with pay. “All we want is to find out the truth,” Holl said in a phone interview. He said First Assistant Prosecutor Dennis Calo will present the case. Normally, a grand jury meets one day a week, but Holl said Sunday he intends to ask for more meetings to speed the process. State grand jury meetings are held in secret. Among its tasks, the panel will be asked to disentangle myriad contradictions in the case. Witness and police accounts differ drastically on just about every aspect, including whether Pannell was carrying a handgun. Holl would not discuss any information regarding a firearm police say they found on Pannell’s body, refusing to comment on its ownership, fingerprints, or whether it was used in any crimes. But several of the River Edge youth’s friends claimed over the weekend that the 16-year-old Pannell was playing with a BB gun with another youth shortly before the incident. And witnesses who spoke to reporters Sunday afternoon offered accounts different from the one released by police on the shooting, which took place around 6:15pm Tuesday in the backyard of a house on Intervale Road in Teaneck. Dorothy Robinson of 19 Intervale Road said she had just stepped outside her house, two homes away from the William Cullen Bryant School. The nurse’s aide said she was going to visit a sick friend when she heard a single shot. It was raining lightly as she looked across the street, about 50 feet away, and saw a youth waving his hands behind a home occupied by the Randy Rostin family. She heard him screaming but could not decipher his words, she said. “I looked up. I saw this kid had gotten across the hedge; he had his hands up,” Robinson said Sunday at her home. “People were screaming ‘Don’t shoot’ to the police,” she said. At first, she thought the boy was her grandson, Shawn Robinson, an eighth-grader at the Benjamin Franklin School. Then a second shot rang out, and Robinson said she saw a flash from the gun. She could not determine who fired the shot, she said. “I bolted across the street because I thought he was my grandson that had gotten shot, '' she said. “I leaped over the hedge.” She said she arrived within 10 seconds of the shooting and saw two officers - Spath and Officer Wayne Blanco - standing within a foot of the boy. She realized the boy was not her grandson and offered to administer CPR. “They told me to get back,” she said. She did not notice any other youth who could have witnessed the shooting. Robinson conceded to losing sight of the youth for about five seconds as she ran toward the house. She did not immediately see the officers touch the boy but said at one point they touched the upper right side of his jacket. Blanco said, “Look at [the mess] you got us into” and threw his radio, striking a fence that separates the property from a service station at the corner of Teaneck Road, Robinson said. Another Intervale Road resident, Jennifer Bradley, saw Pannell run by with two officers in pursuit. Bradley, 32, said one officer shot Pannell in the back while his hands were raised. She said Blanco threw down his walkie-talkie and screamed at the officer who fired the shot: “Man you [messed] up.” “They were both walking around holding their heads. “They couldn’t believe it,” she said. She also said Pannell’s hands were outstretched, and that his coat was partially closed. Pannell, Robinson and Bradley said, had fallen on his back. He wore an oversized red jacket with a fur-lined hood and down insulation that hung just above his knees. He wore beige or white sweatpants. “It didn’t look like he was breathing at all,” Robinson said. She said the boy’s coat was spread open because his hands were above his head, palms facing up. She said she did not see a gun. Robinson, Laura Curry, who lives two homes away, and another parent who lives on the block took six children to the Prosecutor’s Office to be interviewed Thursday, she said. The parents sat in during the interviews. County investigators asked whether the youths saw a BB gun or any other weapon that night or on Pannell, Robinson said. They questioned the youths in her presence about what transpired at the park and behind the school. On Sunday, Curry stood in the doorway of her home, listening as her daughters, Melissa and Sylvia, spoke with a reporter. Both girls said they were among a small group of youths who had been playing basketball but were chased from Tryon Park by police around 6 p.m. They said two boys, including Pannell, were playing with a BB gun the size of a pistol, but the other boy took it away at the park. They said they only knew the first name of the boy with the BB gun. Two younger youths then scuffled briefly, they said, and officers circled the park, forcing them to leave. As the group walked toward the school nearby, the officers pulled up, jumped out of their cars with guns drawn, shouted “Freeze,” and ordered them against the wall, the girls said. They said the officers seemed to target Pannell, but said they were not close to him when he began to run. “We were unattended, so everyone ran in the other direction,” said Melissa, a 14-year-old eighth grader. Moments later, Sylvia heard both shots, ran to where the sounds emanated, and found out that Phillip Pannell was dead.

To their credit, most residents realized this. For there was no pervasive outcry for rioters’ blood. In fact, one businessperson, when asked about the broken window, didn't address the question, but rather expressed gratitude that no one was hurt in the store. A great deal of effort was made to defuse the situation, including the work done by the Teaneck Inter-religious Council, the Black Clergy Council of Englewood and Vicinity (including ministers who came from Hackensack and Paterson). The Teaneck City Council, the NAACP, the Rainbow Coalition, and various youth groups – especially the college students who took to the streets to rap with the youngsters in certain “hot spots.” From Wednesday morning, April 11, when youngsters crammed into the auditorium at Teaneck High and eloquently expressed themselves and drafted demands, they have acted with maturity, wisdom, and patience. Teaneck should be proud of its young people. From the beginning, day and night, everybody has been willing to meet, talk, listen, and plan. The Rev. Jesse Jackson was given an enthusiastic reception on his two visits to Teaneck, and there has been an eagerness to give sincere consideration to his ideas and suggestions. In light of the reception the Rev. Al Sharpton received in Howard Beach, the town’s reaction to Sharpton’s recent march in Teaneck was commendable – No jeering, hissing, or name calling, just tolerance and restraint. When all of these pieces are put together, there emerges a promising picture indeed. Can Teaneck rise to the challenge? There are positive signs that say yes. Teaneck has a history of trying to face its problems and resolve them. The most notable example was the integration of its schools in the Sixties by a vote of the people of the township. There is a sea of goodwill that overwhelms the streams of bigotry and intolerance, and always compelling is the enlightened self-interest factor. Teaneck residents have made substantial investments, human and otherwise, in this town. Enlightened self-interests dictate that maximum effort be put forth to protect and enhance those investments. This can be done only when peace, justice, goodwill, and mutual respect prevail.

6. The town’s leadership should convene a youth leadership conference and let the young folk speak for themselves, in whatever way they choose to speak. Assuredly, such a gathering would produce ideas, plans, and programs that would have the greatest possibility of succeeding because whatever comes forth would be everybody’s baby. 7. The youth complaint of police harassment should be taken seriously. 8. The demands developed by the youth should be accorded sincere consideration. These demands include sensitivity training for police and increasing the number of black police officers (there are currently five on a force of 80). 9. The township should do something to perpetuate the memory of Phillip Pannell, such as a youth center named after him, and an annual conference in his name to discuss issues and relationships. What happened on that fateful evening should never be forgotten. There should be a constant reminder that something went terribly wrong, and it must never happen again. 10. There should be a massive march and rally for justice, unity, and a future together, led by the Pannell family and the young folk. This would afford an opportunity for Teaneck to dramatize before the world its determination to seek justice and live in peace. On the bright side The challenge for Teaneck is to transform this midnight into day. There were and are some very significant developments that suggest that it can be done. Even when we ponder “the night of destruction,” April 11, it must be admitted that the vandalism wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Consider: Hundreds of angry youngsters, grieving for a friend who was shot in the back, rampaged through the streets, far outnumbering a woefully inadequate police force, yet the end result was only 12 broken windows, a few smashed cars, and little looting – no serious injuries and no deaths. There was restraint on both sides. The police should be commended for exercising considerable restraint and heeding the counsel of community leaders whenever they intervened. It should be underscored that when some other adults and I, hoping to calm the youths, followed them to Intervale Road and Cortland Terrace – where the incident ended with the youngsters standing in the middle of the street breaking bottles, screaming, and calling Phillip’s name – not once were the adults disrespected. Not an epithet was hurled our way, even though we were in the very midst of all the action – pushing kids along, yelling at them, thus preventing greater destruction – and not once did these kids turn on us. Some of the kids even hid their faces in shame. Surely, this was not your classic riot! These kids weren’t veteran rioters engaged in wanton destruction of life and property. This is neither to condone the lawlessness, nor to disregard the losses of businesses. It is only to say, given the fact that a 16-year-old was shot in the back and hundreds of angry, hurting kids were in the street – it could have been worse, far, far worse.

What Teaneck must do In the aftermath of the Pannell tragedy, Teaneck must take several steps to help heal the wounds: The township should make some immediate tangible expression of concern to the Panell family. Teaneck must acknowledge its shortcomings. While Teaneck is a beautiful town with decent, well-meaning people, it is not without its problems of race and religious prejudice. More work must be put into promoting better relationships. The schools and religious institutions are extremely important in this regard, for it is there that the value, respect and appreciation for all people and their contributions can be inculcated. As difficult as it is, Teaneck should not rush the healing process. Generally, whites, along with some Blacks want to hasten healing and reconciliation. But that may not be wise. Most African Americans, especially the youth, want to move slower. They want to mourn longer. They want to talk about Phillip, racism, and police harassment. To shut that off too abruptly could prolong the tension and lead to more serious consequences. Teaneck should take great care that in its desire to show impartiality it doesn’t forget that a young man is dead. It is unfortunate that the mayor of Teaneck apologized to Officer Spath’s family for not showing concern yet hasn’t said a word to the Pannells. All efforts should be made to ensure that justice prevails. All details that can be made public should be made so immediately in simple clear language. Not only must the right thing be done, but it must be made to appear right to a people with legitimate suspicions.

Dear Friends, we will continue our series on When Police Kill our Children. Last week we addressed the killing of ten-year-old Clifford Glover, he was shot in the back April 28, 1973. Now we will remember fifteen-year-old Phillip Pannell. He was shot in the back also in Teaneck, NJ April 10, 1990. Following is a newspaper article that I wrote for the Bergen Record, one of New Jersey’s leading newspapers. It captures the feeling of the community, the pain and the anguish, the rallies and demonstrations, and suggestions for change: Teaneck at a crossroads A local minister suggests a prescription for healing – and insights into how blacks view the Pannell tragedy By Herbert Daughtry ON APRIL 10 in Teaneck, a black 16-year-old was shot in the back by a white police officer. In the welter of conflicting testimonies, one fact remains incontrovertible. Phillip Clinton Pannell Jr. is dead. It is not the first time that African-American parents have had to walk this painful path -- and it will probably not be the last time. The pain and bewilderment are intensified by the incredible fact that their children were unnecessarily killed by the people who are paid to protect them. “Why? Why? Why?”, they have asked. "It was justified," some say. "It was an accident," others assert. Still others say, "Be quiet! No need to demonstrate. Let the system handle it." The context for concern For African-Americans, it is always difficult to justify the killing of a teenager, especially when, according to witnesses, hands were being raised and the youngster was shot in the back -- as was the case with Phillip Pannell and Police Officer Gary Spath. The accident theory is equally difficult to accept, since we're told that accidents are often unconsciously contrived. Such killings must be addressed in the larger context. The system has not worked very well for African-Americans, a point many whites don't seem to understand. When whites are victims, the wheels of justice usually turn more swiftly for them. However, when blacks are the victims, the wheels become clogged. In fact, often when blacks are the victims if they were the victimizer. Since before and after the Dred Scott decision in 1857, when Chief Justice Roger B. Taney declared that black people have no rights that white people are bound to respect, Lady Justice has neither been blind nor even-handed in her relationship with African American people. Because of this, the experience of African Americans has been "if you do nothing, nothing will happen." Although they have not wanted to, African Americans have had to employ various methods to make the system work for them. For blacks, these police killings are rooted in the value placed on African humanity. For 400 years, African people have been negated, emasculated, and decimated. To justify the unspeakable cruelties to which Africans were subjected - including the slave trade, where estimates range from 25 million to 100 million Africans were killed and hundreds of millions more died mentally and emotionally, Euro-Americans developed and propagated the Big Lie that Africans were subhuman, and thus enslaving them was really a blessing for them. This idea of African sub humanity permeated the full spectrum of Euro-American life. All the institutions, traditions, and mores became influenced by the Big Lie. Thus, deep within the psyche of Euro-Americans is embedded this perception of African people. Tied to this conviction are guilt and fear "Nobody ought to be treated the way African people were and are treated, thus surely revenge is uppermost in their minds. So when a white police officer sees a black skin, those old subconscious perceptions can take over, and the trigger finger moves ever so quickly. (It is important to note, on the other hand, that African-American police officers seldom, if ever, kill white children or women or other police officers.) It's not always true to say, "A white officer who kills an innocent black youth is racist." Closer to the truth is that the officer is a part of, or a reflection of, a society whose world view, values, and mindset are biased strongly against people of African ancestry. Even if whites disagree with this assessment, the fact remains that the perception exists and needs to be addressed.

Dear Friends, With this post I will begin a series, I am naming “When Police Kill Our Children”. The idea came to me as I reviewed the following month and realized that I was involved with the families and friends whose loved ones, unbelievably, were killed by the police (the people we pay to protect us) and even more unbelievable, they were all children: Clifford Glover, 10, shot in the back, Jamaica, Queens, NY Phillip Panell, 15, shot in the back, Teaneck, NJ Randolph Evans, 15, shot in the head, Brooklyn, NY These three by no means exhaust the list of children and adolescents killed by the police. But I’ve chosen these three to tell the story because I have been interacting and will continue to interact with the loved ones of the slayed youth. In my thinking, and hope you feel the same, these three will represent all the others, most of whom I was there when their lives were cut short by people who represent law and order. It has been my practice to involve the grieving loved ones in some action that will keep the name and the memory of these murdered youths alive. Clifford Glover, we promised a tombstone at the 50th Anniversary. He was killed April 28, 1973. Phillip Panell, we planted a memorial tree and the book is in the process of being written. Randy Evans, scholarship program. The scholarships will be awarded June 25th virtually. For further information, contact ksdmin@gmail.com or visit our website www.randyevansscholarship.org Usually when the dastardly deed was done, or when the murder took place. Two things with these killer cops, they were always white or Euro ethnics, secondly, they all were exonerated. Robert Torsney killed Clifford Glover, he was sentenced to psychiatric treatment and weekends home, tantamount to a slap on the wrist. There were marches, demonstrations, rallies, boycotts, seminars, and civil disobedience. Innumerable articles were written, news media, and even videos were made. I will start with Clifford Glover, only because his story is what I am dealing with now. On April 28, 2022 (my 60th wedding anniversary), we, myself, Minister Lorenzo and Kefentse were at the gravesite of Clifford Glover. There was no marker. We promised his sister, Mrs. Darlene Armstead, we would raise the funds to erect a tombstone for Clifford next year. Following are the excerpts from a newspaper article: At 3am on April 28, 1973, Clifford Glover, 10, was shot in the back by Police Officer Thomas Shea as he walked with his step-father, Mr. Armstead, to a junkyard as was his custom on Saturday mornings. The killer cop went to trial and was acquitted on June 12, 1974 by a jury of 11 whites and 1 Black. At the time, Officer Shea was the only police officer to be tried for murder while on duty. As little Clifford Glover lay dying, Officer Shea and his partner, Officer Walter Scott, were quoted as using foul language. Mr. Scott was overheard saying, 'Die, you little bastard.' It was one of the first killings of adolescents by the police. It would not be the last! The killing and subsequent expression of foul language rank among the most cowardly inhuman acts of homicide ever committed in history. The following are excerpts from an article I wrote at the time in which I tried to put the killing of Clifford in the context of racism in America. Several months ago, a ten-year-old lad named Clifford Glover was shot in the back by a policeman named Shea. Shea claims that he shot Clifford in self-defense; that the boy had a gun which he gave to his stepfather. The gun was never found. The jury believed Shea and exonerated him, calling this killing justifiable homicide. At this late date in American history, a history replete with innumerable acts of Black dehumanization and murder, I suppose I should not have been surprised. However, I was. I had hoped that a modicum of decency and fairness existed in the nations' consciousness and that the American society was not absolutely corrupt and indifferent. Once a climate of non-humanity for Blacks and other powerless people prevails, then the decisions, whether they come from politics, schools or juries, will be made with reference to that climate. In other words, if the prevailing attitude towards Blacks is that they are nobodies, non -entities, then when a jury retires to think through a verdict, its deliberations, unconsciously or consciously will be influenced by the frame of reference which equates Blacks with nothingness. Hence in the mind of these jurors, Clifford Glover was less than human. He didn't run, jump and play. He wasn't like white children his age. His mother didn't feel about him as European mothers do for their children. He was sub-human, or non-human, Therefore, Shea was justified in killing him. It is the same mentality which justifies lynchings. Blacks are not human, so it's alright to string them up by the neck. Its alright to rape them. Its alright to bomb their homes and Churches. It's alright because they are not really human. It's alright to confine them in ghettos, humiliate them because they don't feel it. At 3am on April 28, 1973, Clifford Glover, 10, was shot in the back by Police Officer Thomas Shea as he walked with his step-father, Mr. Armstead, to a junkyard as was his custom on Saturday mornings. The killer cop went to trial and was acquitted on June 12, 1974 by a jury of 11 whites and 1 Black. At the time, Officer Shea was the only police officer to be tried for murder while on duty. As little Clifford Glover lay dying, Officer Shea and his partner, Officer Walter Scott, were quoted as using foul language. Mr. Scott was overheard saying, 'Die, you little bastard.' It was one of the first killings of adolescents by the police. It would not be the last! The killing and subsequent expression of foul language rank among the most cowardly inhuman acts of homicide ever committed in history. The following are excerpts from an article I wrote at the time in which I tried to put the killing of Clifford in the context of racism in America. Several months ago, a ten-year-old lad named Clifford Glover was shot in the back by a policeman named Shea. Shea claims that he shot Clifford in self-defense; that the boy had a gun which he gave to his stepfather. The gun was never found. The jury believed Shea and exonerated him, calling this killing justifiable homicide. At this late date in American history, a history replete with innumerable acts of Black dehumanization and murder, I suppose I should not have been surprised. However, I was. I had hoped that a modicum of decency and fairness existed in the nations' consciousness and that the American society was not absolutely corrupt and indifferent. Once a climate of non-humanity for Blacks and other powerless people prevails, then the decisions, whether they come from politics, schools or juries, will be made with reference to that climate. In other words, if the prevailing attitude towards Blacks is that they are nobodies, non -entities, then when a jury retires to think through a verdict, its deliberations, unconsciously or consciously will be influenced by the frame of reference which equates Blacks with nothingness. Hence in the mind of these jurors, Clifford Glover was less than human. He didn't run, jump and play. He wasn't like white children his age. His mother didn't feel about him as European mothers do for their children. He was sub-human, or non-human, Therefore, Shea was justified in killing him. It is the same mentality which justifies lynchings. Blacks are not human, so it's alright to string them up by the neck. It's alright to rape them. It's alright to bomb their homes and Churches. It's alright because they are not really human. It's alright to confine them in ghettos, humiliate them because they don't feel it. It is significant that six of the jurors were for acquittal on the first ballot. In other words, there was no doubt in their minds that Shea was innocent. There was one Negro woman, the only woman, and the only Black employed in the probation department, sitting on the jury. She was the last to vote for acquittal. It would have taken an awfully strong person to stand alone against the others who wanted Shea exonerated. It always requires strength to stand against the majority. Obviously this woman was not that strong person. Now that is why I believe the Church must always exercise great care that it does become the sanctioner of all things present. For to do so would make the Church guilty of actions from the same corrupt context from which the rest of society acts. Not only so, but the Church must be actively engaged in questioning the prevailing sentiments, attitudes, acts and the institutions in which those sentiments, attitudes and acts become collectively crystalized. The Church can't take a passive indifferent stance. For to do so is to give substance to the status quo, to “things as they are.” But the decision rendered by the jurors – keep in mind a jury simply reflects the larger community consciousness – which is one further along the road of cynicism. But this is the generation of Richard Millhouse Nixon. Understand the meaning of the jury’s decision, you have to understand the meaning of Nixon. And to understand the meaning of Nixon, you have to understand the meaning of the American society's attitudes towards its Black citizens. An act is never an isolated phenomenon. An act rose out of past acts, and is related to contemporary acts in other places, and by other persons. Moreover, an act is tied into proposed future acts. It springs out of a person, or group, or nation’s value system, assumptions and expectations. Acts then growing out of the aforementioned created a climate or ethos, which in turn influences further action, thus creating a cycle. Acts flowing from a certain mentality or way of looking at evaluating people, things and events, send forth a pattern of vibration. It is in this connection that I disagree with many of my fellow believers. I don't believe you can tie up a nice, neat bundle of religious language and say, "this is the Gospel" and because other unfamiliar words and references are used, say, "that is not the Gospel.” I just find it hard to believe that God makes the kind of distinction we make. Our actions are so interrelated that where so-called religion ends and so-called secular begins, or where the secular begins and the religious ends, is pretty difficult to determine, if indeed a distinction exists at all. It is the habit of man to ascribe sanctity to places, words, and so on. And even when these very things have lost or outlived the sacredness of their origin, man would still sanctify them. Now, by acting, the mind is further confirmed in what gave rise to the action in the first place. This jury's decision to exonerate Shea was not done in a vacuum. It must be understood in the light of other things. It must be understood in the context of Black emasculation by the institutions of schools, industry, etc. It must be understood in racist housing patterns. When we look carefully at the events and the mores and institutions of this society. We are driven to the conclusion that Black humanity and the inalienable rights inherent in that humanity are open to question. What is bequeathed to other ethnic groups by virtue of their birth, must be strenuously fought for by Blacks.