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NEWS & LETTERS, March 2002 

Chicago cops harass West Side family

Chicago—The Chicago police have made my family's life a holy hell. They haven't helped us when we needed it and they have picked on us. They picked up my baby, my grandson, for the first time on Fathers' Day, 1995. Everytime he moves, they keep trying to put something on him.

In February 2000 I had a dispute with the tenant in my building over utility bills. The tenant called the police and claimed that I was trying to steal my own stove. The police wanted to take her side, but I was in the right and they had to leave. They came back to our house in March and tried to arrest my grandson, saying he was selling drugs. He wasn't doing that, but they didn't care.

The one cop grabbed me and I tried to pull away. He threw me to the ground and put his knees in my back. I have to wear pain patches and he threw me so fast that they were ripped off.

I heard my children calling, "Don't do my mama like that! She's too sick!" They cuffed me too tightly. I had already had two spinal surgeries.

The policemen took me by the arms and dragged me out to the police car. They told me, "You Black b——! If you don't get in there I'll slam the door on your feet!" They were laughing at me and calling me all kinds of names. Everybody on the street was watching.

They wouldn't even let me put my shoes on my feet. I kept asking them for that, at least. They handcuffed me to the wall at the station for about 40 minutes. My children were begging the police to give me my pain medication and get me away from the abusive cops. When they finally let me go my children brought my medication.

They found me guilty in court for aggravated battery and trespassing. The police didn't take pictures of my body. They lied in the trial. My doctor pleaded to keep me from serving 20 days of community service. I had to have surgery last year to remove torn ligaments from my shoulder, from when they beat me. I can't do much with my right hand and my family has to take care of me. My daughter had to take time out from her own life. I still have nightmares, seeing them coming in and beating me, and killing me and killing my children.

I have never done anything against the police, and they are still harassing my family. My husband and I were driving home one night last week and they followed us for blocks in their car. When we got to the house they stopped us and said, "We know you. You're the woman who doesn't like the police." A few nights later they picked up my grandson after midnight—they beat him, threatened him, and left him alone in another neighborhood where anything might have happened to him. He could have been killed. He had to find a pay phone and call me at one in the morning to come and pick him up.

I have gone to the Office of Professional Standards, the Mayor's office, my alderman. Nobody wants to help us. This can't go on. It's like me and my little family don't even exist in this country. We need to find some help.

—Charlene Coleman

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