San Francisco Chronicle

Reform talk intensifie­s over policing in East Bay

Alameda: Useofforce expert cites ‘missteps’ in April 19 incustody death

- By Rachel Swan

The death of Mario Gonzalez in Alameda illustrate­d a paradox in modern policing, according to three legal scholars: Armed, uniformed officers are the default response to minor qualityofl­ife issues. Yet they’re often the least suited to handle them.

That issue will dominate a special Alameda City Council meeting on Saturday, as officials deal with fallout from the April 19 incident. Gonzalez, a 26yearold man from Oakland, was detained for no apparent crime, then restrained by three officers and a civilian parking employee until he went limp.

“The officers went out there with the intention, no doubt, of doing the right thing,” said former Boston police Lt. Thomas Nolan. “There were

missteps that were made.”

He added that Gonzalez may have died because the officers followed their training — not in spite of it.

Alameda Mayor Marilyn Ezzy Ashcraft called the Saturday meeting along with Vice Mayor Malia Vella, who is running for the state Assembly seat vacated by California Attorney General Rob Bonta. They hope to hasten plans to shift some 911 calls away from law enforcemen­t, an idea that has captivated leaders in other cities, though most have been slow to implement it.

“Sometimes, when you’ve come through a crisis, it’s just the right moment to seize on saying, ‘OK, we need to make change. But we need to bring people along with us,’ ” Ashcraft told The Chronicle.

She’s seeking council approval to compile a list of groups or agencies to handle minor complaints in the shortterm, then develop a more farreachin­g strategy that involves civilian responders accompanyi­ng police. City officials do not yet have a concrete vision or the means to fund such a program.

Many people see Gonzalez’s death as a case study for a larger debate about how and when to deploy police officers. The scene, captured in bodycamera footage that the city released on April 27, had all the elements of a minor encounter gone wrong: a disoriente­d man lingering in a park; two callers voicing suspicion; an officer breezily asking questions — then requesting backup. Gonzalez resisted being handcuffed, and died after police pinned him for five minutes.

Emotions grew raw as the video hit social media a month before the anniversar­y of George Floyd’s murder in Minneapoli­s. Activists and family members of Gonzalez held rallies, decrying the officers’ conduct as violent and excessive force. One group of protesters gathered near the park where Gonzalez died, carrying signs that vilified residents who called police. “You have blood on your hands,” one sign read. “Klanameda Kop Kallers,” read another.

Others defended the officers, saying they had tried to build a rapport with Gonzalez. In the bodyworn camera footage, the first officer to arrive — later identified as Eric McKinley — talks to Gonzalez for nine minutes before ultimately walking over to handcuff him. Throughout the exchange, McKinley remains calm and never raises his voice.

“Based on what I could see, it appears that they’re doing things to try to deescalate, in terms of staying calm and trying to keep Mr. Gonzalez engaged in conversati­on,” Alameda’s interim police Chief Randy Fenn said in an interview Thursday.

Acknowledg­ing the city is still waiting for the results of three investigat­ions — from an outside law firm, the Alameda County Sheriff ’s Office and the district attorney — Fenn noted that his officers didn’t use batons or Tasers on Gonzalez.

Nolan, now an associate professor of sociology at Emmanuel College in Boston, criticized the officers’ actions, starting with McKinley’s decisions to call for backup, check for warrants and repeatedly ask Gonzalez to identify himself.

“Every step that the officer took” set the tone of a criminal investigat­ion, rather than an attempt to help someone, he said.

The former police lieutenant contended that the officers could have assessed whether Gonzalez was a threat to himself or others, and then called for medical help. Alternativ­ely, they could have driven Gonzalez home or even left him in the park, Nolan suggested.

It’s not quite that easy, Fenn said.

If the officers “think Mr. Gonzalez is impaired to the point where he’s not able to care for his own safety, then by walking away, we actually become liable, potentiall­y, for what happens,” Fenn said. “If he stumbles out into traffic, if he gets hit by a car, if he has some other issue — frankly, we could bear significan­t liability.”

Christine Cole, executive director of the Crime and Justice Institute — a Boston nonprofit that advocates for reforming the legal system — pointed out the many ways in which officers are constraine­d when they receive a call for service.

“When the police are dispatched to the call, they’re not going to say, ‘Well, we can’t help you,’ ” Cole said.

People expect officers to react quickly and confidentl­y, Cole said. A more effective response requires patience and resources.

“What was standard and expected yesterday is no longer acceptable tomorrow,” said attorney Alison Berry Wilkinson. She represents the officers in the case, and says they and their profession are caught in a moment of societal introspect­ion, when it’s no longer clear what people want from police.

Even before the uprisings that followed Floyd’s murder last May, cities throughout the nation were contemplat­ing civilian responses to lowlevel calls for service, such as public intoxicati­on, loitering, or people behaving erraticall­y but not violently. Oakland officials began studying a new model two years ago, eventually deciding to house it within the city’s fire department.

Only a few cities have built up the infrastruc­ture to testrun alternativ­es to 911. The CAHOOTS (Crisis Assistance Helping Out On The Streets) program in Eugene, Ore., is widely considered a standard

bearer. Two years ago Olympia, Wash., began dispatchin­g unarmed crisis responders, in the hope they would be less confrontat­ional and more nimble than police. Sacramento set up a similar office last year, and appointed an interim director to run it.

Ultimately, the idea is to connect people to services rather than arrest and incarcerat­e them. Gonzalez’s death shows the need for such innovation­s, said Michael Lawlor, an associate professor of criminal justice at the University of New Haven.

“At the end of the day, the police have handcuffs,” Lawlor said. “There’s probably a hundred other options that could be explored, have been explored by people who had the training and resources to deal with this differentl­y.”

Chief Fenn said he has long supported the idea of transferri­ng qualityofl­ife complaints over to civilian responders.

“The issue is not a willingnes­s of police to unload that burden,” he said. “It’s just where does it go? Who is able to do this on a 247 basis?”

Alameda was already on track to send mental health profession­als to some 911 calls, Councilmem­ber John Knox White said, citing the council’s unanimous vote in March to pursue such a program.

Anger and pain over Gonzalez’s death helped accelerate that plan, or at least heightened the urgency. The details remain elusive.

 ?? Santiago Mejia / The Chronicle ?? The mother and son of Mario Gonzalez, Edith Arenales and Mario Jr., 4, outside Alameda Police Department on April 27.
Santiago Mejia / The Chronicle The mother and son of Mario Gonzalez, Edith Arenales and Mario Jr., 4, outside Alameda Police Department on April 27.
 ?? Santiago Mejia / The Chronicle ?? Cat Brooks, with the Justice Teams Network, rallies crowd to say Mario Gonzalez’s name at Alameda Police Department.
Santiago Mejia / The Chronicle Cat Brooks, with the Justice Teams Network, rallies crowd to say Mario Gonzalez’s name at Alameda Police Department.
 ?? Courtesy Arenales Gonzalez family ?? Mario Gonzalez, who died in Alameda police custody on April 19, with his son, Mario.
Courtesy Arenales Gonzalez family Mario Gonzalez, who died in Alameda police custody on April 19, with his son, Mario.

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