They did know. That’s why the warrant got approved, because of her previous association with a known drug dealer. So, they suspected a man was present
Breonna Taylor 26 yrs old Shot By Police In Botched Raid In Louisville
- Thread starter Mello Mello
- Start date
They did know. That’s why the warrant got approved, because of her previous association with a known drug dealer. So, they suspected a man was present
Agreed. But we have to look at each case individually. We could what if the case to death but the fact of the matter is. He did have a gun and he did shoot first triggering a return fire. I wish the cops had properly announced themselves before entering the residence. It wouldn't have guaranteed a better outcome but it would've increased the chances of such. I am glad there were no kids there.
My point in response to D24OHA if he lived there or not they would've still entered the residence the way they did.
Here CNN debunks a few misconceptions about this situation...
No. The warrant was approved based on a lie....the suspected drug dealers house was set to be raided the same day....in fact his address was raided at 12:00 as noted on initial copies of the arrest record.. But for a reason that has not been explained, they changed the time on the documents to 12:40 to match the time Breonna's home was raided.
The warrant according to CNN was based on a chase in which the suspect ran between a suspected drug house and her residence....nowhere do the cops say they know he is associated with her....what they claim is that he used her address to receive suspicious packages....
However, how did they jump to that conclusion? If police want to know if someone is receiving mail at an address, there's a simple form that gets filled out and returned to them in the mail by the local post office....it takes a few days. That's just for regular letter mail.
The police claim in the warrant they KNOW he received suspicious packages...well suspicious packages is what the local Postal Inspection Service handles. The representative from that office is on record stating his office was never contacted about suspicious packages at that address...and he further states if an Inspector from another jurisdiction was notified, they would have still notified his office and that did not happen. So in short that was a lie.
Louisville postal inspector: No ‘packages of interest’ at slain EMT Breonna Taylor’s home
Louisville Metro Police shot and killed Taylor, an emergency room tech and former EMT, on March 13. The shooting has drawn national scrutiny and calls for an independent probe.
You're saying that if he didn't shoot, then the police wouldn't have shot her and killed her.....
I would agree that she may have been in their line of fire of it wasn't for premilinary ballistics that shows 1 officer shot 10 times from outside the house into the house....they haven't released the full report so there is no clue if he hit her / how many times.....but if he's responsible for her death....then we will disagree on her being in the line of fire.
The cops claimed to have been watching her house....so how did they not know he was there?
No, they were counting on her being there with just her sister (whom is on record living there)
If they knew he was there, they may have actually followed procedures and announced themselves....they got lazy with actually investigating.
Also to claim someone is still getting packages for someone they dated 2 yrs prior....and then have a Postal Inspector state they ruled that out in January....how do you keep that on your warrant request in March?
....that warrant was bullshit and they didn't follow procedures....they didnt announce themselves and at least 1 mfkr let off 10 rounds from outside......
I refuse to entertain any talk about the role the bf played in this. This search / situation was a shit show and fucked from go.
‘I was her shadow’: As millions cry for justice, Breonna Taylor’s sister faces her own quiet grief
Ju'Niyah Palmer, the sister of Breonna Taylor, who was killed by plainclothes police officers in the apartment where both sisters lived. (Joshua Lott/For The Washington Post)
By
Caitlin Gibson
August 8, 2020 at 1:20 p.m. CDT
Before Breonna Taylor was a name chanted in the streets and scrawled on signs, before she was a face emblazoned on street murals and the cover of Oprah’s magazine, before she was the reason millions of Americans started clamoring for criminal charges to be brought against four Louisville police officers, before she came to symbolize the Black lives incomprehensibly snuffed out by law enforcement, she was Ju’Niyah Palmer’s sister — her companion, role model and confidante.
“She was my person,” Palmer, 20, told The Washington Post in an interview. “I was her shadow.”
And then, in a matter of minutes, Taylor was gone, and it all felt so impossible that Palmer couldn’t believe it had really happened. Taylor had been shot to death by Louisville police officers in her own apartment — their apartment.
The sisters had always been inseparable. Palmer, six years younger, grew up wanting to do everything her big sister did: When Taylor played basketball, Palmer became a water girl so she could be there at the games. When Taylor went out with friends, Palmer begged to tag along. Palmer remembers how Taylor would sometimes roll her eyes at her, a mix of irritation and affection. You’re so annoying, she’d say, but then: Come on, hurry up.
After they moved with their mother from Grand Rapids, Mich., to Louisville 12 years ago, the girls shared a room with matching dressers and slept side by side on a queen bed with a gleaming silver frame. Palmer brought that bed with her 2½ years ago when she moved in with Taylor and her boyfriend, Kenneth Walker. Whenever their schedules didn’t keep them apart — Taylor worked nights as an emergency room technician, Palmer is a pharmacy technician — the sisters were together.
“She was my friend every day,” Palmer says. “There were no secrets between us at all.”
When Black men and women are killed by police, the public attention often falls first on the parents, spouses and children left behind. The “Mothers of the Movement” have become particularly prominent in the fight for racial justice on behalf of their slain children, and Taylor’s mother, Tamika
Palmer, has been a vocal advocate for her daughter. But grieving siblings like Palmer face their own distinct challenges, coping with personal anguish even as they watch their loved one be mourned and embraced as a symbol by millions of strangers.
The resounding finality of Taylor’s absence feels beyond reach even now — especially now, as Palmer tries to wrap her mind around a reality where millions of people who never knew her sister are shouting her name, signing petitions demanding justice for her killing, carrying posters printed with her photograph. Where, instead of celebrating Taylor’s 27th birthday with the customary fancy dinner and dancing at the club, massive gatherings of strangers clutched candles and sang “Happy Birthday” at solemn vigils across the country.
Reminders of her sister’s death are everywhere, but Palmer says she still feels removed from the visceral truth of it. “Mostly at night is when I can really think, and I have moments — like, I’ll cry,” Palmer says, “but I haven’t grieved it, if that makes sense. I still don’t want to face it.”
The officers had burst into the apartment shortly after midnight on March 13 while executing a “no knock” warrant as part of a narcotics investigation. (The person the police were looking for, an ex-boyfriend of Taylor’s who was a suspected drug dealer, had already been apprehended, and the warrant has since come under scrutiny.)
Palmer hadn’t been home when it happened, and she wanted to go back to the apartment as soon as she could, she says, “so I could see for myself.” But her family urged her to wait. Three weeks later, on an afternoon in early April, Palmer finally returned to pack up the last home she would share with her sister.
She and her mother sorted through Taylor’s room first. Then Palmer entered her own bullet-riddled room and sat once more on their childhood bed. From there, through the open door, she could see the place in the hallway where Taylor had fallen in the final minutes of her life. Palmer stared for a moment.
“And then I started packing again,” she says. “I didn’t want to be in there.”
Walker has said that he and Taylor were asleep when three plainclothes Louisville police officers pounded on the apartment door — then, according to attorneys representing the Palmer family, they forced their way inside without announcing themselves. Police officials say the officers, who were not wearing body cameras at the time, identified themselves as law enforcement before entering. Walker, a licensed gun owner who says he believed that intruders were breaking in, fired toward the door, striking one officer in the leg. (Walker was initially charged with attempted murder of a police officer, but the charges were dropped in May.) The police immediately returned fire, and 26-year-old Taylor, who was unarmed, was shot five times.
The coroner for Jefferson County told the Louisville Courier-Journal that Taylor probably lived for less than a minute after she was shot. But Walker told police that she lived for several minutes, coughing for breath as he frantically called 911: “I don’t know what is happening,” he told the dispatcher, according to audio released from the call. “Somebody kicked in the door and shot my girlfriend.”
Palmer was thousands of miles away, visiting a friend in California, when another friend called on FaceTime and let her know that there had been a shooting in her neighborhood back home. Palmer immediately tried to call Taylor and Walker to see if they had more information, but neither picked up their phones. She figured they’d gone to sleep and she’d hear more details in the morning.
A couple of hours later, her mother called, and Palmer could immediately tell that something was very wrong.
“She just started crying,” Palmer says. “She was like, ‘Breonna’s been shot.’ And I said, ‘What do you mean, she’s been shot?’ And she said, ‘Your sister’s dead.’
Palmer refused to believe it. She hung up and called Taylor’s number again. No answer.
At first, the family thought it had been a break-in. The following afternoon, on a flight home to Louisville, Palmer scoured the news for updates. “And that’s when I found out it was a police-involved shooting,” she says. “I thought, ‘This doesn’t make sense. This story is not adding up.’ ”
Her aunts retrieved clothes, shoes and tote bags for Palmer from the apartment, and she made arrangements to take some time off from her job. “I was kind of stuck in a daze for a while,” she says. “I couldn’t go back to being normal. I moved in with my mom, but it still wasn’t normal.” She spent a couple days at a friend’s house, then a couple more days. It was obvious to the friend that Palmer was avoiding confronting her new reality. “She told me, ‘You can’t keep trying to put it off,’ ” Palmer says. “ ‘You’re never going to be able to go back home.’ ”
Home had meant Taylor — “Bre,” as she was known by her closest friends and family — for as long as Palmer could remember. The six years that separated them, combined with Taylor’s caregiving personality, meant that she often felt like both a sister and a mom; a friend who would shed empathetic tears over Ju’Niyah’s dating dramas, an adviser who would counsel her little sister about budgeting her money.
In the months before she died, Taylor had decided she was ready for actual motherhood. She had long dreamed of having a baby, and she and Walker had just started trying to conceive, Palmer says. Taylor had transitioned their apartment to a month-to-month lease in anticipation of going house-hunting in the fall. She was planning to begin nursing school in January.
“She felt like 2020 was definitely going to be her year,” Palmer says. “Everything was going the way she wanted it.”
Palmer hasn’t felt like she can fall apart — not yet, she says. She wants to be strong for her family, and she tries not to cry in front of her mother. “I’ll have that moment someday,” she says, her tone one of blunt resignation. “It’s going to come at some point.”
Processing the grief, the guilt and the reality of such sudden and traumatic loss takes time. And Palmer is only one of a growing number of siblings forced to cope with personal tragedies that have become national flash points.
“It might take another 30 years,” said Shante Needham in 2018, referring to how long she would mourn her sister, Sandra Bland, who died in police custody after she was arrested for a traffic violation in Texas in 2015.
“I couldn’t take care of George the day he was killed,” Philonise Floyd told lawmakers with the House Judiciary Committee in June, as he testified on behalf of his brother, George, who died after a Minneapolis police officer knelt on his neck.
“You want to see justice,” Amber Carr told local media in October of last year, soon after her 28-year-old sister, Atatiana Jefferson, was shot to death by a police officer as she babysat Carr’s young son at her Fort Worth home. “But justice don’t bring my sister back.”
Carr reached out to Palmer after Taylor’s death, Palmer says, offering herself as someone who could listen and understand. “I talk to her from time to time,” Palmer says. “She told me when I was ready, she would be there.”
But Palmer isn’t ready to look inward yet, especially with so much still going on outside. Two or three times each week, Palmer joins the ongoing protests at Louisville’s Jefferson Square Park. She supports the Black Lives Matter movement, but she isn’t comfortable drawing attention to herself, she says. She prefers to be part of the crowd, wearing a T-shirt printed with her sister’s portrait, carrying a sign with Taylor’s name, like so many others.
“Sometimes, going to the protests makes me feel like she’s almost there. Like she’s there, and watching,” Palmer says of Taylor. “But then —” she trails off and shakes her head firmly, reversing herself: “No. She’s never going to come back.”
The vigils and protests and tributes instill a welcome sense of comfort and community, Palmer says, even if they can’t erase the inherent loneliness of loss. In the streets, Palmer is surrounded by people who know her sister’s life mattered. But they will never know the contours of her life like Palmer did.
Nearly five months on, with the outcry over Taylor’s death still gaining new, high-profile voices, Palmer wonders if justice is within reach. To date, none of the police officers involved have been charged. One — Brett Hankison — was fired from the department for “wantonly and blindly” firing 10 shots into the apartment, according to the police. Three others — Jonathan Mattingly and Myles Cosgrove, who were present at the scene, and Joshua Jaynes, who applied for the search warrant — remain on administrative reassignment while the shooting is under investigation by the Kentucky attorney general and the FBI.
“I really just hope those officers really do get charged and fired,” Palmer says. “They took somebody who didn’t deserve this. And hopefully, at some point, I hope the world can regain some peace.”
Finding peace for herself is a different journey. To mark Taylor’s June 5 birthday, Palmer posted a message on Facebook: “Today you would’ve turned 27! I am still super sad and hurt you aren’t here anymore, sometimes I want to give up because I no longer have a norm,” she wrote. “Breonna, I need you to know I love you literally with all my heart.”
This is as close as Palmer will come to addressing her sister directly. There are some mourners who find a sense of comfort or connection in speaking to their departed loved ones, but Palmer says that would never work for her. The sisters’ conversations were always so dynamic, full of spirited interruptions, a constant overlap of two voices — the sound of Palmer’s voice speaking into the stillness, she says, would not feel right at all.
Keeping the bed that the sisters shared, the silver-framed queen that Palmer brought when she moved in with Taylor and Walker — that didn’t feel right, either. Before Palmer left the apartment that afternoon in April, she turned to her mother and gestured toward the bed. “Mama, I don’t want this,” Palmer remembers saying. “I shared it with her, and I can’t take it with me anymore.”
Other things have followed her — the milestones her sister had once looked forward to, the memories of her various quirks and habits: how the two would settle in to watch a movie, and Taylor would fall asleep within minutes; how she always wanted her beloved Dodge Charger kept immaculately clean; how she would sometimes wake Palmer with a phone call at 3 a.m. during a particularly quiet night shift, imploring her to deliver board games to the hospital.
Palmer was her sister’s shadow. Now her sister is her shadow.
“It will never be the same,” she says. “It’s too quiet.”
Ju'Niyah Palmer, the sister of Breonna Taylor, who was killed by plainclothes police officers in the apartment where both sisters lived. (Joshua Lott/For The Washington Post)
By
Caitlin Gibson
August 8, 2020 at 1:20 p.m. CDT
Before Breonna Taylor was a name chanted in the streets and scrawled on signs, before she was a face emblazoned on street murals and the cover of Oprah’s magazine, before she was the reason millions of Americans started clamoring for criminal charges to be brought against four Louisville police officers, before she came to symbolize the Black lives incomprehensibly snuffed out by law enforcement, she was Ju’Niyah Palmer’s sister — her companion, role model and confidante.
“She was my person,” Palmer, 20, told The Washington Post in an interview. “I was her shadow.”
And then, in a matter of minutes, Taylor was gone, and it all felt so impossible that Palmer couldn’t believe it had really happened. Taylor had been shot to death by Louisville police officers in her own apartment — their apartment.
The sisters had always been inseparable. Palmer, six years younger, grew up wanting to do everything her big sister did: When Taylor played basketball, Palmer became a water girl so she could be there at the games. When Taylor went out with friends, Palmer begged to tag along. Palmer remembers how Taylor would sometimes roll her eyes at her, a mix of irritation and affection. You’re so annoying, she’d say, but then: Come on, hurry up.
After they moved with their mother from Grand Rapids, Mich., to Louisville 12 years ago, the girls shared a room with matching dressers and slept side by side on a queen bed with a gleaming silver frame. Palmer brought that bed with her 2½ years ago when she moved in with Taylor and her boyfriend, Kenneth Walker. Whenever their schedules didn’t keep them apart — Taylor worked nights as an emergency room technician, Palmer is a pharmacy technician — the sisters were together.
“She was my friend every day,” Palmer says. “There were no secrets between us at all.”
When Black men and women are killed by police, the public attention often falls first on the parents, spouses and children left behind. The “Mothers of the Movement” have become particularly prominent in the fight for racial justice on behalf of their slain children, and Taylor’s mother, Tamika
Palmer, has been a vocal advocate for her daughter. But grieving siblings like Palmer face their own distinct challenges, coping with personal anguish even as they watch their loved one be mourned and embraced as a symbol by millions of strangers.
The resounding finality of Taylor’s absence feels beyond reach even now — especially now, as Palmer tries to wrap her mind around a reality where millions of people who never knew her sister are shouting her name, signing petitions demanding justice for her killing, carrying posters printed with her photograph. Where, instead of celebrating Taylor’s 27th birthday with the customary fancy dinner and dancing at the club, massive gatherings of strangers clutched candles and sang “Happy Birthday” at solemn vigils across the country.
Reminders of her sister’s death are everywhere, but Palmer says she still feels removed from the visceral truth of it. “Mostly at night is when I can really think, and I have moments — like, I’ll cry,” Palmer says, “but I haven’t grieved it, if that makes sense. I still don’t want to face it.”
The officers had burst into the apartment shortly after midnight on March 13 while executing a “no knock” warrant as part of a narcotics investigation. (The person the police were looking for, an ex-boyfriend of Taylor’s who was a suspected drug dealer, had already been apprehended, and the warrant has since come under scrutiny.)
Palmer hadn’t been home when it happened, and she wanted to go back to the apartment as soon as she could, she says, “so I could see for myself.” But her family urged her to wait. Three weeks later, on an afternoon in early April, Palmer finally returned to pack up the last home she would share with her sister.
She and her mother sorted through Taylor’s room first. Then Palmer entered her own bullet-riddled room and sat once more on their childhood bed. From there, through the open door, she could see the place in the hallway where Taylor had fallen in the final minutes of her life. Palmer stared for a moment.
“And then I started packing again,” she says. “I didn’t want to be in there.”
Walker has said that he and Taylor were asleep when three plainclothes Louisville police officers pounded on the apartment door — then, according to attorneys representing the Palmer family, they forced their way inside without announcing themselves. Police officials say the officers, who were not wearing body cameras at the time, identified themselves as law enforcement before entering. Walker, a licensed gun owner who says he believed that intruders were breaking in, fired toward the door, striking one officer in the leg. (Walker was initially charged with attempted murder of a police officer, but the charges were dropped in May.) The police immediately returned fire, and 26-year-old Taylor, who was unarmed, was shot five times.
The coroner for Jefferson County told the Louisville Courier-Journal that Taylor probably lived for less than a minute after she was shot. But Walker told police that she lived for several minutes, coughing for breath as he frantically called 911: “I don’t know what is happening,” he told the dispatcher, according to audio released from the call. “Somebody kicked in the door and shot my girlfriend.”
Palmer was thousands of miles away, visiting a friend in California, when another friend called on FaceTime and let her know that there had been a shooting in her neighborhood back home. Palmer immediately tried to call Taylor and Walker to see if they had more information, but neither picked up their phones. She figured they’d gone to sleep and she’d hear more details in the morning.
A couple of hours later, her mother called, and Palmer could immediately tell that something was very wrong.
“She just started crying,” Palmer says. “She was like, ‘Breonna’s been shot.’ And I said, ‘What do you mean, she’s been shot?’ And she said, ‘Your sister’s dead.’
Palmer refused to believe it. She hung up and called Taylor’s number again. No answer.
At first, the family thought it had been a break-in. The following afternoon, on a flight home to Louisville, Palmer scoured the news for updates. “And that’s when I found out it was a police-involved shooting,” she says. “I thought, ‘This doesn’t make sense. This story is not adding up.’ ”
Her aunts retrieved clothes, shoes and tote bags for Palmer from the apartment, and she made arrangements to take some time off from her job. “I was kind of stuck in a daze for a while,” she says. “I couldn’t go back to being normal. I moved in with my mom, but it still wasn’t normal.” She spent a couple days at a friend’s house, then a couple more days. It was obvious to the friend that Palmer was avoiding confronting her new reality. “She told me, ‘You can’t keep trying to put it off,’ ” Palmer says. “ ‘You’re never going to be able to go back home.’ ”
Home had meant Taylor — “Bre,” as she was known by her closest friends and family — for as long as Palmer could remember. The six years that separated them, combined with Taylor’s caregiving personality, meant that she often felt like both a sister and a mom; a friend who would shed empathetic tears over Ju’Niyah’s dating dramas, an adviser who would counsel her little sister about budgeting her money.
In the months before she died, Taylor had decided she was ready for actual motherhood. She had long dreamed of having a baby, and she and Walker had just started trying to conceive, Palmer says. Taylor had transitioned their apartment to a month-to-month lease in anticipation of going house-hunting in the fall. She was planning to begin nursing school in January.
“She felt like 2020 was definitely going to be her year,” Palmer says. “Everything was going the way she wanted it.”
Palmer hasn’t felt like she can fall apart — not yet, she says. She wants to be strong for her family, and she tries not to cry in front of her mother. “I’ll have that moment someday,” she says, her tone one of blunt resignation. “It’s going to come at some point.”
Processing the grief, the guilt and the reality of such sudden and traumatic loss takes time. And Palmer is only one of a growing number of siblings forced to cope with personal tragedies that have become national flash points.
“It might take another 30 years,” said Shante Needham in 2018, referring to how long she would mourn her sister, Sandra Bland, who died in police custody after she was arrested for a traffic violation in Texas in 2015.
“I couldn’t take care of George the day he was killed,” Philonise Floyd told lawmakers with the House Judiciary Committee in June, as he testified on behalf of his brother, George, who died after a Minneapolis police officer knelt on his neck.
“You want to see justice,” Amber Carr told local media in October of last year, soon after her 28-year-old sister, Atatiana Jefferson, was shot to death by a police officer as she babysat Carr’s young son at her Fort Worth home. “But justice don’t bring my sister back.”
Carr reached out to Palmer after Taylor’s death, Palmer says, offering herself as someone who could listen and understand. “I talk to her from time to time,” Palmer says. “She told me when I was ready, she would be there.”
But Palmer isn’t ready to look inward yet, especially with so much still going on outside. Two or three times each week, Palmer joins the ongoing protests at Louisville’s Jefferson Square Park. She supports the Black Lives Matter movement, but she isn’t comfortable drawing attention to herself, she says. She prefers to be part of the crowd, wearing a T-shirt printed with her sister’s portrait, carrying a sign with Taylor’s name, like so many others.
“Sometimes, going to the protests makes me feel like she’s almost there. Like she’s there, and watching,” Palmer says of Taylor. “But then —” she trails off and shakes her head firmly, reversing herself: “No. She’s never going to come back.”
The vigils and protests and tributes instill a welcome sense of comfort and community, Palmer says, even if they can’t erase the inherent loneliness of loss. In the streets, Palmer is surrounded by people who know her sister’s life mattered. But they will never know the contours of her life like Palmer did.
Nearly five months on, with the outcry over Taylor’s death still gaining new, high-profile voices, Palmer wonders if justice is within reach. To date, none of the police officers involved have been charged. One — Brett Hankison — was fired from the department for “wantonly and blindly” firing 10 shots into the apartment, according to the police. Three others — Jonathan Mattingly and Myles Cosgrove, who were present at the scene, and Joshua Jaynes, who applied for the search warrant — remain on administrative reassignment while the shooting is under investigation by the Kentucky attorney general and the FBI.
“I really just hope those officers really do get charged and fired,” Palmer says. “They took somebody who didn’t deserve this. And hopefully, at some point, I hope the world can regain some peace.”
Finding peace for herself is a different journey. To mark Taylor’s June 5 birthday, Palmer posted a message on Facebook: “Today you would’ve turned 27! I am still super sad and hurt you aren’t here anymore, sometimes I want to give up because I no longer have a norm,” she wrote. “Breonna, I need you to know I love you literally with all my heart.”
This is as close as Palmer will come to addressing her sister directly. There are some mourners who find a sense of comfort or connection in speaking to their departed loved ones, but Palmer says that would never work for her. The sisters’ conversations were always so dynamic, full of spirited interruptions, a constant overlap of two voices — the sound of Palmer’s voice speaking into the stillness, she says, would not feel right at all.
Keeping the bed that the sisters shared, the silver-framed queen that Palmer brought when she moved in with Taylor and Walker — that didn’t feel right, either. Before Palmer left the apartment that afternoon in April, she turned to her mother and gestured toward the bed. “Mama, I don’t want this,” Palmer remembers saying. “I shared it with her, and I can’t take it with me anymore.”
Other things have followed her — the milestones her sister had once looked forward to, the memories of her various quirks and habits: how the two would settle in to watch a movie, and Taylor would fall asleep within minutes; how she always wanted her beloved Dodge Charger kept immaculately clean; how she would sometimes wake Palmer with a phone call at 3 a.m. during a particularly quiet night shift, imploring her to deliver board games to the hospital.
Palmer was her sister’s shadow. Now her sister is her shadow.
“It will never be the same,” she says. “It’s too quiet.”
There's a leaked report circulating now. She was dating bad boys and being used. She was too close to dangerous muhfuckas and it cost her her life, as it turns out.
There's a leaked report circulating now. She was dating bad boys and being used. She was too close to dangerous muhfuckas and it cost her her life, as it turns out.
Imma need more solid evidence before i comment
There's a leaked report circulating now. She was dating bad boys and being used. She was too close to dangerous muhfuckas and it cost her her life, as it turns out.
Nuggets vs. Jazz score, takeaways: Jamal Murray scores 50 again, Denver forces Game 7 with win
Murray's spectacular playoff run continues
www.cbssports.com
Murray again magical as Nuggets force Game 7
Helping stave off elimination again by scoring 50 points for the second time in three games, Jamal Murray outdueled Donovan Mitchell and lifted the Nuggets to a 119-107, Game 6 win over the Jazz.
Phone taps and other info Re: Jamarcus Glover ( Breonnas ex ) and other persons of interest
https://www.yumpu.com/en/document/read/63943132/breonna-taylor-summary-redacted1
https://www.yumpu.com/en/document/read/63943132/breonna-taylor-summary-redacted1
Lewis Hamilton calls for the arrest of cops who killed Breonna Taylor
Lewis Hamilton, 35, collected his trophy for winning the Tuscan Grand Prix while paying tribute to emergency medical technician Breonna Taylor, 26, who was shot dead by Louisville Metro Police.
Louisville settles wrongful death suit with Breonna Taylor's family for "millions of dollars"
A start but long way to go... LOUISVILLE, Ky. (WAVE) - Attorneys for Breonna Taylor’s family have reached an agreement with the City of Louisville, WAVE 3 News Troubleshooters have learned. The settlement includes a significant amount of money reaching into the millions of dollars, sources...
www.bgol.us
UPDATE: Breonna Taylor's Family To Receive $12 Million Settlement From City Of Louisville
UPDATE: Breonna Taylor's Family To Receive $12 Million Settlement From City Of Louisville Earlier this Tuesday, it was shared that a settlement had
hollywoodunlocked.com
UPDATE: Breonna Taylor’s Family To Receive $12 Million Settlement From City Of Louisville
Written by Kecia Gayle September 15, 2020
UPDATE: Breonna Taylor’s Family To Receive $12 Million Settlement From City Of Louisville
Earlier this Tuesday it was shared that a settlement had been reached in a civil lawsuit between the family of Breonna Taylor and the city of Louisville. At the time, full details weren’t shared but sources told WAVE 3 News that the settlement included a significant amount of money reaching into the millions of dollars and is “expected to be one of the largest settlements following an officer-involved shooting in Louisville police history.”
RELATED: Louisville Settles Wrongful Death Lawsuit Filed By Breonna Taylor’s Family
CNN also reported that the mayor of Louisville is expected to announce the settlement later Tuesday in a joint press conference with the Taylor family attorneys.
Now, according to the latest updates by The Hill, it has just been revealed that the family will receive a $12 million settlement for the horrific death of the 26-year-old EMT, who was shot and killed in her own home by plainclothes Louisville police officers back in March. It was noted by the Courier-Journal that the deal is the largest settlement that the city has paid in a police misconduct case, shattering the previous top figure of $8.5 million.
ANNAPOLIS, MARYLAND – JULY 05: In an aerial view from a drone, a large-scale ground mural depicting Breonna Taylor with the text ‘Black Lives Matter’ is seen being painted at Chambers Park on July 5, 2020 in Annapolis, Maryland. The mural was organized by Future History Now in partnership with Banneker-Douglass Museum and The Maryland Commission on African American History and Culture. The painting honors Breonna Taylor, who was shot and killed by members of the Louisville Metro Police Department in March 2020. (Photo by Patrick Smith/Getty Images)
The Hill reports that Louisville Mayor Greg Fischer (D) and Taylor family attorneys, including prominent civil rights attorney Ben Crump, are all expected to share more details on the deal at a press conference this afternoon.
I didn't go through the entire thread or run a search. So, forgive me if these have already been posted:
Louisville police major on antifa and BLM: 'They will be the ones washing our cars'
"Our little pinky toenails have more character, morals, and ethics, than these punks have in their entire body," Maj. Bridget Hallahan wrote in an email.
Welp shit is about to be burned down again.
The attorney general of Kentucky needs his ass beat and the cops were lying like they normally do.
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Like I said in the other thread, the 12 mill was a quick payoff. In a way I kind of hate that they settled so quickly. All this this shit should have came out in court, even is civil.
New Bodycam Released Of SWAT Team Searching Breonna Taylor's Apartment... They Waited Five Minutes Before Checking Her Pulse.....
"NEW Bodycam Footage Released in Breonna Taylor Case JUST RELEASED: New bodycam footage shows SWAT team inside Breonna Taylor's apartment AFTER the fatal shooting. It's obvious they cared more about searching the apartment than trying to save Bre's life! It also leaves so many questions, like...
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Debates 2020: Highlights from the 2020 vice presidential debate
Vice President Mike Pence and Senator Kamala Harris faced off at the University of Utah in Salt Lake City on Wednesday ahead of the November 3 elections. The debate, hosted by USA Today’s Washington Bureau Chief Susan Page, covered topics such as COVID-19, election integrity and the Supreme Court vacancy.
20/20 to investigate Breonna Taylor's death in new special — watch the powerful trailer
By Tyler Aquilina
November 13, 2020 at 01:00 PM EST
ew.com
Eight months after the killing of Breonna Taylor, ABC News is looking to shed new light on the intensely scrutinized case. ABC News has teamed with the Louisville Courier Journal for a special episode of 20/20 investigating the night of Taylor's death, with rare footage, previously unheard details, and new interviews guiding a deep dive into the case.
On March 13, Taylor, a 26-year-old Black ER technician, was shot and killed by Louisville, Ky., police officers while sleeping in her apartment. The case attracted nationwide attention in subsequent months and helped spur the summer's widespread protests over police brutality and racial inequality. In September, a grand jury declined to charge any of the officers for Taylor's death.
Some key details in the case have been disputed, particularly whether the officers announced themselves despite having a "no-knock" search warrant for Taylor's apartment. Taylor's boyfriend, Kenneth Walker, who was in the apartment with her, has said the officers did not identify themselves when knocking, leading him to fire a warning shot in self-defense. Police have maintained that they did identify themselves.
The two-hour 20/20 special features intense footage of the incident obtained from police body cameras, as well as home video of Taylor and new interviews with Walker, Louisville officer Jonathan Mattingly (who was shot during the incident), and Taylor's mother, Tamika Palmer, among others, all of which can be glimpsed in the powerful trailer above.
"It's not a race thing, like people want to try to make it to be," Mattingly insists in a clip from his interview. "We were doing our job, I get shot, we return fire."
"I always knew she would be great," an emotional Palmer says of Taylor. "I hate that she had to die to be great."
20/20's special investigation with The Courier Journal will premiere Friday, Nov. 20, at 9 p.m. ET on ABC.
By Tyler Aquilina
November 13, 2020 at 01:00 PM EST
'20/20' to investigate Breonna Taylor's death in new special — watch the powerful trailer
See the powerful trailer for a special episode of '20/20' investigating the killing of Breonna Taylor.
Eight months after the killing of Breonna Taylor, ABC News is looking to shed new light on the intensely scrutinized case. ABC News has teamed with the Louisville Courier Journal for a special episode of 20/20 investigating the night of Taylor's death, with rare footage, previously unheard details, and new interviews guiding a deep dive into the case.
On March 13, Taylor, a 26-year-old Black ER technician, was shot and killed by Louisville, Ky., police officers while sleeping in her apartment. The case attracted nationwide attention in subsequent months and helped spur the summer's widespread protests over police brutality and racial inequality. In September, a grand jury declined to charge any of the officers for Taylor's death.
Some key details in the case have been disputed, particularly whether the officers announced themselves despite having a "no-knock" search warrant for Taylor's apartment. Taylor's boyfriend, Kenneth Walker, who was in the apartment with her, has said the officers did not identify themselves when knocking, leading him to fire a warning shot in self-defense. Police have maintained that they did identify themselves.
The two-hour 20/20 special features intense footage of the incident obtained from police body cameras, as well as home video of Taylor and new interviews with Walker, Louisville officer Jonathan Mattingly (who was shot during the incident), and Taylor's mother, Tamika Palmer, among others, all of which can be glimpsed in the powerful trailer above.
"It's not a race thing, like people want to try to make it to be," Mattingly insists in a clip from his interview. "We were doing our job, I get shot, we return fire."
"I always knew she would be great," an emotional Palmer says of Taylor. "I hate that she had to die to be great."
20/20's special investigation with The Courier Journal will premiere Friday, Nov. 20, at 9 p.m. ET on ABC.
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