To keep chaos at bay, volunteer Bill Walker hands out yellow plastic cards with numbers from 1 to 200.  A second set of numbered cards is soon cracked open as people continued to arrive.

The dip in the economy may have caused a decrease in patronage for other businesses, but the Alameda Food Bank has seen a 37 percent increase in clients compared to this time last year according to spokesperson Brian Higgins.

“We serve 40,000 people a week and 14,000 of them are children,” said Higgins.

A truck from the food bank warehouse backs up the drive way and 20 volunteers quickly unload the seven tons of the day’s produce offerings:  yams, carrots, white onions, and packaged bags of shredded ice berg lettuce, hearts of romaine and cole slaw mix.

“On Fridays there were at least eighty to one hundred people, now we run 175 to 200,” said Bill Walker, a retiree who has volunteered at Columbian Gardens for five years.

Fifty-pound bags of vegetables are placed behind the tables next to palettes of boxes stacked six feet tall.  The contents are divvied up into smaller shopping bags that the recipients will pick up as they walk by each station.

A few clients pick through clothing on a give away table while the volunteers continue their work.

Columbian Gardens is one of 275 distribution centers in Alameda County, but one of only ten that has food available five days a week.

Emergency food drop in hours are from noon to 1:30 p.m. every weekday. Volunteers set aside some produce for the emergency food boxes they will construct after the morning distribution is done. The boxes often contain a mix of produce and canned and dry goods.

The protocol requires clients to call the food bank head quarters to make an appointment before they go to Columbian Gardens to pick up emergency food, but if they show up unannounced it’s okay.

“No one is turned away,” said Walker.

Lurleen Jackson, also known as Mom by the volunteers, has run the distribution at Columbian Gardens since 1974.

When asked why she started to work with the poor, she said, simply,

“Because they need it. That would be the only answer.”

Jackson is a devoted Christian and serves as an usher at Community Reform church where she can be found walking the aisles every Sunday morning.

“People are so appreciative,” she gushes.  “They tell me all about their recipes.”

Her volunteers return this love in spades.  Her operation runs so smoothly she has to do little more than wander around and watch as they take care of everything.

The volunteers have bagged enough produce so it’s time to start the processional.  Walker explains how the line will work and another volunteer translates his words into Spanish for the primarily Latino crowd.

Alicia Williams, a geriatric nurse, is all smiles handing off bags bursting full of white onions.

“I just got off work and came to pick up my mother-in-law to eat and go shopping.  I always stop and lend a hand.  The reward is greater than pay.  Knowing someone will not go hungry is a plus,” said Alicia.

Iome has volunteered at Columbian Gardens for 10 years.  She feels volunteering can be as rewarding for retirees like herself as it is for the recipients.

“It gives me something to do.  I love helping people, instead of being at home lonely and bored.   It keeps you young,” said Iome.

Odelia Sanchez, from Guatemala, pushes a cart with today’s bounty.  This is her third visit to pick up provisions for her husband and five children.  She heard about the distribution through friends.

“The economy is bad and I’m out of a job.  It helps a lot.  If you go to the store it’s expensive.  Here it is a gift,” she said.

Evelyn Rivas from El Salvador has visited the food bank for six months.  She already has plans for some of the produce.

“I’ll use it to make repollo,” she said referring to a slaw of cabbage, carrots, onions and vinegar that is eaten with pupusas, a Salvadorian style corn cake.

Through the translator Walker tells everyone they are welcome to have some cilantro, three additional bags of the packaged produce and an additional bag of anything else that is left on the tables.

Crinkly onion skins scatter across the parking lot and take flight in the breeze while the line goes through in the opposite direction.

The crew at Columbian Gardens supplements their offerings by visiting the food bank every Wednesday for additional produce and canned goods and dry goods.  Every fourth Tuesday is USDA day where they get canned food, milk, juice and meat.  They also keep an eye out for bread on Wednesdays, which is one of the most requested items.

“People who call the food bank for emergency food tell them they want to come to Columbian Gardens.  We never run out of food,” said Walker, taking pride in their work.  “We treat them like people.  We’ve got the service, so we provide it to them.

According to Walker, at this time last year they averaged five emergency food pickups a day. Now they average 35 a day.  Last month the average peaked at 45 emergency food pick up a day.

The county court sends Jackson 6-10 volunteers a month who work to pay off their tickets.

“What the court does for me is such a big help,” said Jackson.

Volunteer Andrew Roddy chimes in, “They fall in love with Mom.  Then they come back and keep volunteering.”

Roddy has personal experience with this phenomenon.  One year and five months ago he was sent to Columbian Gardens to work off a ticket, and hasn’t stopped coming since. He even joined Jackson’s church.

While Roddy and a skeleton crew of three other volunteers assemble emergency boxes inside the building, Humberto Dueñas from San Leandro loads his truck.  In addition to his family of four he will share today’s catch with two of his brothers families, his sister’s family and their mother.

Dueñas is a construction worker that has been laid off for seven months, but has found alternate work at a Toyota factory in Hayward.

He is pleased with today’s produce, “It’s a big help.  In Mexican food we use these things all the time.”

The students enjoyed the story, but most wanted to talk about investigating Officer Michael Gebhardt’s police cruiser.

“I liked sitting in the back.  It was a hard seat,” said Gursharar, while snacking on a – bagel with a cream cheese and grape jam.

The afternoon was courtesy of Hoopoe Books Share Literacy Program, a non-profit that works with schools to encourage reading skills in students using a tradition from Afghanistan called teaching stories.

Earlier half of the students listened with rapt attention as teacher Joumana Mattar read The Clever Boy and the Terrible Dangerous Animal by Idries Shah.  Next door Brenda Bethancourt read the Spanish version of the book to the those in the bilingual class.

The story is about a boy in Afghanistan who discovers that the terrible, dangerous animal that is feared by villagers is nothing more than a gigantic watermelon.  The point of the story is to encourage children to be inquisitive and not be afraid of things that may be new to them.

While reading the story Mattar paused to ask the children questions.

“Have you ever been afraid of something you’ve never seen before?” she said.

One girl said she’d never seen a snake, a boy said he’d never seen a dragon.

“Have you ever been attacked by a watermelon?” said Mattar.

“Nooooooooooooooo!” chimed the class in unison.

Two weeks prior to the event the teachers went through professional literacy strategy training to learn how to read and teach the story more effectively.

“We get the kids to know the story through questions that are factual, and others than ask them to drawn on reason and experience. Then we expose them to what an author and an illustrator does,” said Beverly Taub, director of preschool programs for Fremont United School District.

The students had pre-event preparation as well.  They were treated to a watermelon party where they got to see one cut up and were able to taste it.  They were invited to experience the texture of watermelon and count the seeds. Then they were taught how new watermelons can be grown using seeds.

The watermelon party introduced the students to “the terrible, dangerous, animal” the villagers were afraid before they heard the story.

“That made it more real,” said Taub.

This is the second year the pre-school has worked with Hoopoe Books, which is funded by a grant from the Kaiser foundation, but this was the first time it was paired with a visit from a police officer.

“We wanted to make it a more special event and tie reading into what we do in every day life,” said Taub

Gebhardt was present during the read-along and ready to take the stage when both classes were combined in the playroom.

“We’re going to show you a helper of the community,” said one of the assistants introducing Gebhardt.”  He is going to become your friend too.”

Gebhardt had not received any training but quickly got into the spirit of things.

“Why is reading important?” he asked the class. “One of the reasons it’s good is you have to read signs. Like the big red sign that says…”

“Stop!” the students shouted.

He asked the students to think about what happens when they are riding in a car with a grown up and what they do when they see signs.  Then he broke it down further to colored signal lights.

“What do they do when they see a yellow light?”

“Slow down,” shouted a boy.

Gebhardt appeared very pleased by that answer.

At the end he asked,  “Who wants to be a police officer?”

Half of the hands in the room shot up high.

“If you want to be a police officer you have to know how to read and write.  We spend a lot of time reading and writing things down,” he said.

Each child was given a copy of the book paired with an audio CD of the story. Then Gebhardt and the students went outside to explore his car.  The students took turns flashing the lights and turning on different sirens.  Some climbed into the back seat and peered through the bars like suspects.

As the grand finale Gebhardt gave each child a police badge sticker and a hi-five.

By Alba Mora/Special to Oakland North

Would you ever let two strangers crash on your couch? Recently reporter Alba Mora welcomed two couchsurfers into her Berkeley home.

Last month, a youth curfew ordinance was voted down by the City Council’s Public Safety Committee. And while the ordinance failed to become law, it did succeed in rousing the voice of Oakland’s youth.

Scenes from an Auction: As the number of Bay Area foreclosures skyrockets, so does the amount of auctions selling foreclosed homes at a fraction of their original price. Watch potential buyers vie for bargains at a recent auction.

[See post to watch Flash video] ]]> http://510report.org/2009/03/04/scenes-from-an-auction/feed/ 0 http://510report.org/2009/03/02/a-look-at-international-blvd/ http://510report.org/2009/03/02/a-look-at-international-blvd/#comments Mon, 02 Mar 2009 20:41:51 +0000 Editor http://510report.org/?p=3286 Ali Winston/Special to the 510Report

East 14th Street, more commonly known as International Boulevard, runs from Lake Merritt, through the heart of East Oakland and down through San Leandro.

The boulevard cuts through Vietnamese, Mexican and African-American communities, reflecting city’s diversity. On weekends, the streets in Fruitvale and near Lake Merritt bustle with life.

Other stretches are more desolate – dust gathers in empty store windows, graffiti hints at tensions between street gangs and prostitutes ply their trade at all hours of the day.

Additional link: Exotic Escort on Craigslist

When I knocked on the door of an apartment building in East Oakland, a woman’s voice nervously asked who I was. The voice belonged to a 45-year-old woman who wishes to be identified only as S. Mohamad because she fears prosecution in her native Iraq; she is a former radiologist who came here as a refugee three months ago along with her husband and their three children. She hid behind the door because she was without a headscarf; Muslim women usually wear one to cover their hair when they are around anyone but family or other women.

When we met, she had just arrived home. Her brown hair, which had been under a scarf, was tousled. She immediately went to the kitchen and put food on the stove, then came into the living room and collapsed into a chair. She wiped the sweat off her warm face with both hands as though to erase the tiredness of the day and refresh herself. Then she put her hands in her lap as if to surrender to rest.  “Forgive me for being messy,” she said. “I have just arrived from a job workshop in San Francisco. I had to take two buses to get home because we can not afford the BART.”

Mohamad, her husband, and their three children left their home in Baghdad shortly after her brother-in-law was assassinated by insurgents. He was a well-known academic figure in Baghdad, and insurgents also targeted and killed funeral-goers. Mohammed’s extended family scattered and sought safety in other places.

Mohamad, her husband and children left everything behind and at first found refuge in Jordan. They lived in Amman for two and half years before applying to the United Nations refugee program to obtain legal papers and avoid deportation. They were accepted into the program and granted refuge in the United States. The International Rescue Committee (IRC), a nonprofit group that works with the U.S. State Department to help refugees resettle in the United States, relocated Mohammad’s family to East Oakland because of its affordable rental houses.

The IRC, which is linked with the State Department, was founded in 1933 and is headquartered in New York.  The main task of the agency is to create a viable living situation for refugees. It is required to provide airport pick-up, locate furnished accommodations, help refugees apply for Social Security cards, enroll in schools and find health care, and advise them about immigration services.

There were 13,000 Iraqi refugees admitted to the United States in 2008, according to the State Department’s resettlement program, and the IRC says it expects that number to increase to 17,000 this year. The records do not break down the number of refugees in each state because the State Department stopped tracking them more than a decade ago. “I think they stopped tracking the refugees in the States because it costs a lot of money to do the job,” said Don Climent, the regional director of the IRC’s office in San Francisco.

****

Iraqi refugees face huge challenges adjusting to life and work in the United States. The most obvious of these is language: Refugees vary in their language ability, but all must quickly learn to speak well, so they can search for work and begin to be part of society. Complicating matters for families like the Mohamads, many refugees are resettled to neighborhoods where they are surrounded by others for whom English is a second language.

There is the also the problem of security. Many Iraqi refugees feel shocked and frustrated when they realize that they have to deal with security-part of the reason they had run away from home-again. Mohamad’s 21-year-old son made his own security, buying pepper spray and a knife to protect his life. “I only felt safe in Jordan and all I did is to focus on my study,” he said. “But here, I found the United States similar to Baghdad. I changed my old nice clothes into saggy ones to blend in. I avoided passing any young men group standing in a corner of the street. I tried to put my wallet, phone and my ID in different places in my clothes. I have to struggle to stay safe in Oakland.”

In addition to fears about their security, refugees have to deal with the American healthcare system, which is totally different from back home. In Iraq, the health system is free and patients have easy access to medicine from any pharmacy, except for few restricted prescriptions.

On top of these concerns, refugees also have to find jobs quickly. It’s not easy, particularly with the U.S. economy in recession. Some Iraqis try to look beyond Oakland and go as far as San Jose. Some may get lucky, and some have to keep looking and wait for the phone to ring. “The economy is not so good in regards to employment,” said Climent at the IRC. “It is a reality that refugees have to compete with the Americans for work. Of course there is an impact. In such time you do not have to be picky, you should take any job is offered to you.”

Climent acknowledges that refugees face a difficult situation in the United States, trying to blend in with the society in a short period of time, even when they have the help of the IRC. “There are a lot of things going into this and it is certainly less than perfect,” he said. “It is not easy to be a refugee, even under the best circumstances. Overall it is incredibly positive program but when you get into details, you can see how hard it is for some people to make it through the process and to start over and to learn all the stuff they have to learn to operate in the society in short time. It is a lot, it needs time but it really works.”

****

It hasn’t worked yet, though, for the Mohamads. The family struggles against the loss of their money, jobs, security, and education. They use a temporary monthly stipend from the social services to pay for rent, and rely on social services for food stamps. Mrs. Mohammad said she has submitted roughly seven resumés since she came to U.S. three months ago, with no luck. She said does not want her children to work because they are still in school, and they do not have any job experience.

Her eldest son, now 21, takes advanced courses in English language and CSEE courses (environment and green jobs training) at the community college so he may find a temporary job.  He was once an engineering undergraduate student who had to drop out of school in Baghdad to go with his family to Jordan. He managed to resume college in Amman, but again had to leave in the middle of his studies to come to Oakland with his family. Now he wants to apply for school again, but must first wait for a year or two to be a California resident so the family can afford the college tuition.

“My eyes are dry of tears,” his mother said as she considered her family’s situation. “I cannot see well because I cried so hard. I just wish I could go back home but I could not. I have no family left there, my house is rented and I can not just ask the residents to leave because I will have to go through the court and that means many papers and time and money. It is not safe yet for us to go back and I’m torn between longing to go back and my children’s safety and future. ”

The family’s apartment has three bedrooms, and as Mrs. Mohamad talked, her husband came out of the bedroom, interrupting his wife to fact-check their story. He is a tall man who used to have his own business as a heavy machines contractor. Now he is unemployed, and spends half of the day searching Web sites to fill out online applications. It’s frustrating, he said, and pointless, because almost employers ask for a license and references.

“Wherever we find a job application, they ask for a license and a reference, and I just came from Iraq,” he said. “How am I supposed to have a reference or a license, which [requires] us to get back to study for few months or years to match our degree from Iraq? I cannot even work as a bus driver unless I get a reference and a license.”

Mrs. Mohammad said she and her husband go to the social services program “job club” daily, and attend every workshop and lecture on job-hunting that they can. She wiped her face with her hands. “I do not want my son lose another year,” she said. “Education is very precious to me.”

At that moment, her son entered the house holding heavy books to his chest like a child clutching a precious toy. He called for his younger brother and sister to come out from their rooms. He was happy that he had bought the books for $1 each at a private sales event at the Barnes & Noble bookstore in Jack London Square. The books included a history book about the U.S. Marines and their battle in Iraq. “I bought this book because I wanted to learn their history and what they say about us,” he said while flipping the pages showing images of soldiers posing in different positions in Iraq and Kuwait.
Iraqis of all education levels are known for their passion for reading; it was one of their only ways, other than TV, to access to the outside world for knowledge during Saddam Hussein’s dictatorship. Mrs. Mohammad watched her children and sighed as they read the new books. “I do not know what to do,” she said. “We are an intellectual family and all our siblings are doctors and engineers. We do not know any other profession.”

Mrs. Mohammed’s troubles are complicated by health issues; she has a bad back, an ulcer, and high blood pressure. She wants to work, but doesn’t want to give up her 20 years experience as a radiologist in Iraq. “I cannot just trash 20 years of experience behind my back,” she said. “I want to work, but in what I know-as a radiologist or even a nurse, but for both I need to match my degree and study again for few years. I can not do that because I do not have time. I need a job quickly to support the family and save for my son’s education. This is my problem.”

“We did not leave our country for fun-all my concern was my children’s safety and their future,” she continued. “We struggle to learn the American system here by ourselves and it is very hard. How am I supposed to learn all this and get a job in a month? Why [did the] U.S. bring big numbers [of refugees here] if they are not ready to host them? I do not have any relatives in the United States like some have to rely on. I cannot go home now. I sold everything I have in Jordan, and I can not go back to Baghdad because we will be targeted.”

She broke into tears.

A peaceful demonstration over the recent fatal shooting by a BART police officer escalated into violence last night in downtown Oakland

Hundreds of demonstrators gathered at the Fruitvale BART station at 3 p.m .Wednesday to protest the death of 22-year-old Oscar Grant, a Hayward resident shot by the BART officer, 27-year-old Johannes Mehserle, in the early morning hours of January 1 on the Fruitvale BART station platform in front of dozens of witnesses.  Since the incident occurred, cell phone footage of the shooting, available on the Internet and other media outlets, has sparked public outrage.

Hundreds of Oakland police were called in, and in full riot gear-helmets, batons, and shields-tried to disperse the crowd and contain the escalating violence.

At around 9:15 p.m., Oakland Mayor Ron Dellums emerged from City Hall, met protesters on 14th street, and led a group of roughly 100 to the City Hall steps.  Speaking through a bullhorn over the sound of overhead police and news helicopters, he urged protesters to respect one another.  “I sense your pain and your frustration,” Dellums said.  Protesters responded angrily, booing and shouting that the Oakland police need to show more respect.  “We need the real Black Panthers out here!” one protester shouted.

When the Mayor went back into city hall, the crowd started to chant: “No Justice, No Peace!”

The protesters demanded answers as to why BART, the Oakland police, and the city had not responded to the shooting in a more urgent manner by insisting that Mehserle provide a statement about the incident. Mehserle, who had been with the BART police for two years, abruptly resigned on Wednesday, just before he was supposed to be interviewed by BART investigators.

John Burris, an Oakland-based civil rights lawyer representing Grant’s family, says he believes Mehserle quit in order to avoid being interviewed by investigators in his department.  He added that BART legally could have demanded that Mehserle and the other BART police officers at the scene give statements on the night of the incident.  So far, they have not demanded that he give a statement.

Burris also said there had been at least two prior complaints about Mehserle before the shooting.

After Dellums retreated into City Hall, roughly 25 to 30 protesters then began running throughout the blocks around Frank H. Ogawa plaza, smashing in windows of cars and businesses along the way.  They smashed the windshields of four cars belonging to the city of Oakland, and broke a window at the police station.  Some set fires to trashcans and knocked over dumpsters in the middle of the street.  At least three cars were set ablaze, and there were other small fires that police and the Oakland fire department quickly extinguished.

In their riot gear, the police tried to contain the protesters.  Some protesters threw bottles at the police officers, and into the windows and doors of downtown Oakland businesses.

By 9:30pm, three BART stations-Fruitvale, 12th Street and Lake Merritt-were closed.

At around 9:40pm, police released tear gas near City Hall to try and break up the demonstration.  Within an hour, the police had contained most of the mayhem.  More that 100 people were arrested throughout the night.

But business owners in downtown Oakland like Leemu Topka, who has run a hair salon called Creative African Braids on 14th street for the past four years, will have to deal with the aftermath.  Many spent this morning sweeping chards of glass off of their stoops.  Some store owners arrived at work this morning to find that the windows of their stores had been shattered, and others, like Topka, were around to see it happen.

Topka says she was working in the shop around 8pm with her husband and baby when she saw a group of protesters approach her door.

“I was scared for my life,” said Topka.  Although she understands why the protesters were angry, Topka says she doesn’t understand why their anger was aimed at her and at her shop.  “If you’re protesting that a black person was killed, why go to your black sister’s shop and break all the windows?”

Topka said the protesters tried to get into the shop, but that her husband held the door shut.  She called the police, she said, but got no response.  Then one of the protesters threw a bottle through the door, she said,and broke the glass.

In lieu of this morning’s planned protest, Oakland police stationed officers on nearly every block of downtown Oakland to prepare for a repeat of the previous night.

So far, this morning’s protest in front of the building on 20th street in downtown Oakland, where the BART board meeting was held, has been peaceful.  Around 50 people were gathered in front of the building at 9:30 a.m. to protest BART’s response to the shooting incident.  “Coach Joe,” a teacher of science and physical education at the nearby Oasis high school, brought to the protest a large group of his students, ranging from ages 16 to 18–as an educational experience, the teacher said. “We didn’t come to break anything,” he said.  “We came to be seen and heard.” He added that many of his students hadn’t wanted to come to school at all because they were angry and felt that the shooting was unjustified, and BART’s response to the shooting unacceptable.

“Happy New Year’s Eve, I love you, and may God Bless Your Family.”

That was the text that Cephus Johnson said he sent to his nephew, 22-year-old Oscar Grant III, at 12:49 a.m. on Thursday.  But Grant never responded, and a little more than an hour later he was shot in the back and killed on the Fruitvale BART station platform by a BART police officer, according to cell-phone videos and eye-witness accounts of the incident.

Attorney John Burris and witness Mario Pangelina talk with the press about the January 1 shooting at the Fruitvale BART station.

BART officials said there is no video footage of the incident available from BART surveillance cameras.  However, numerous witnesses and at least three video accounts of the incident taken from cell phones reveal that Grant was unarmed and lying face down on the platform at the time he was shot.

“The video tapes speak volumes,” said John Burris, the Oakland-based civil rights lawyer representing Grant’s family, at a recent press conference.  BART officials have declined to comment.

Both the BART Police and the Alameda County District Attorney’s Office are in the process of conducting investigations into the shooting.  In addition, Grant’s family announced today that they will file a $25 million dollar lawsuit claim with BART on Monday, and a civil rights lawsuit to follow.

“It is without a doubt the most unconscionable shooting I have seen, ever,” said Burris.  “In that Mr. Grant at the time he was shot and killed was in fact laying on his stomach with his back to two officers, with one officer kneeling down at his neck area and the other officer straddling over him and standing in a bent position with Mr. Grant’s back to him.  He did not have a weapon, he was not kicking, and he had been turned over.”

Burris believes that the facts involved in the shooting warrant consideration of criminal charges for murder against the officer, and plans to make this request of the Alameda County District Attorney this week.

Sidewalk memorial for Oscar Grant at the Fruitvale station.

A statement released Sunday morning from BART Police Chief Gary Gee does not give any further details about the case that weren’t already released, and asks that the public “be patient, refrain from jumping to conclusions, and allow the investigators do their job.”  BART officials said that the officer involved has been placed on administrative leave.

Also according to the press release, five BART police officers pulled Grant and three others onto the platform in response to a report that two groups of riders were involved in a fight on a train coming from San Francisco and bound for Dublin-Pleasanton after leaving the West Oakland station around 2 a.m.  The train stopped for a longer time than usual at the Fruitvale station so that officers could pull offenders off the train and break up the fight.

But witnesses on the train sitting at the Fruitvale station at the time of the shooting said that Grant and others were pulled from the train without reason and treated with unnecessary force.

Sophina Mesa, the mother of Grant’s four-year-old daughter, was with Grant for New Year’s Eve and was present at the shooting, but was not a witness.  Mesa’s brother, 23-year-old Mario Pangelino, also did not witness the shooting but heard the gunshot because he was 15-feet away from Grant when the incident occurred.

At a recent press conference, Pangelino described the events on the platform prior to the incident.  His descriptions are corroborated by multiple videos accounts.

Pangelino was one of hundreds of partygoers who packed into a crowded late-night BART train on New Year’s Eve to return to his Hayward home after celebrating in San Francisco with his family.  He was riding two cars behind Grant when the train stopped at Fruitvale.  When he saw his sister walk by on the Fruitvale platform, Pangelino stepped out of the car to see why she had disembarked.

When he looked to his left, he saw Grant talking to police officers at a nearby wall on the platform.  Pangelino said he saw an officer grab Grant by the neck, and when Grant resisted, another officer approached him with a stun gun or “Taser.”

“I could see the red dots on his face and that’s when he slid down [the wall] and said ‘please please don’t shoot me, don’t tase me.  Please.  I have a daughter,’” said Pangelino, who added that more than one officer had their Tasers out and at-the-ready.

Pangelino said that Grant had his hands in the air when he sat down next to three other young men sitting at the wall, two of whom had been handcuffed by the cops earlier.  “That’s when one of them grabbed his wrists and pulled him off the wall,” said Pangelino.

As Burris recounted in the press conference, a recently released video account shot from a cell phone reveals the following events: an officer moved Grant from the wall to the ground so that he was lying face down, while another officer stood over, straddling him.  The officer straddling him, a two-year veteran of the force whose name has not been released, then reached for his holster and shot Grant once in the back.  So far BART officials have only said that the officer’s gun “discharged” once.

Witnesses say that directly after the shooting, the officer said: “Oh my God.”

“I didn’t even know he was shot,” said Pangelino.

He said that he thought it was a rubber bullet gun at first, and riders in the train-car near him assumed it was the sound of a taser being triggered.  Pangelino said he tried to hold the BART train door open, but a female cop made everyone get back on the train and it left before he could hold the train at the station.

Witnesses said that officers put handcuffs on Grant after the shooting occurred, and then removed them as the ambulance arrived.  He died soon after at Highland hospital.

“The intention of the officer is not significant.  It’s what he did that counts,” said Burris at the press conference.  “And what he did at the time was step back, pull his gun out of his holster, point it at the back, and fired it.”

BART police have the same training as city police officers, and have the same authority for arrest.   In 2001, 42-year-old Edward Seward was shot in the chest and killed by a BART police officer at the Hayward station, and roughly ten years prior to that in 1992, an unarmed 19-year old named Jerrold Hall was shot in the back and killed by BART police at the same station.  In both cases, the BART police involved in the shootings were eventually cleared of wrongdoing.

Over thirty of Grant’s friends and family members attended the press conference, and many have said that they will spend the next week holding vigil that the memorial that the BART officials have allowed them to erect outside of the Fruitvale station.

Grant was raised with his sister in Hayward by his mother, Wanda Johnson, who had just celebrated her birthday on December 31 when she received the news that her son had been shot.  He worked as a butcher at Hayward’s Farmer Joe’s store.  Family members say that Grant was a big sports fan, and Cephus Johnson, Grant’s uncle, said that they had plans to attend all of the Raiders games together before the shooting occurred.