Racist Prosecutors & Cops will Believe Nearly Anything Racist Suspects Say If he/she is Talking About Killing a Black Person: Murder of Black Jogger Puts Spotlight on a Police Force’s History

racist suspect - any white person who is capable of practicing racism against non-whites. In general, if a Caucasian is able to be a Racist (White Supremacist), he or she may be one and should be presumed to be racist. According to Neely Fuller, as …

racist suspect - any white person who is capable of practicing racism against non-whites. In general, if a Caucasian is able to be a Racist (White Supremacist), he or she may be one and should be presumed to be racist. According to Neely Fuller, as long as white supremacy exists, every person classified as 'white' should be suspected of being Racist (White Supremacist). Since all whites are able to practice racism in a white supremacy system if they choose to do so, it is correct (and logical) to use the term "racist suspects" to identify whites who do not openly function as white supremacists (racists). Caucasians who do nothing to oppose white supremacy are its silent partners benefiting from this worldwide social political economic arrangement of domination. Those who do nothing about it or cooperate with it are also racist/white supremacist. Noted psychiatrist, Dr. Francis Cress Welsing, has stated, "people who classify themselves as White, who wish to be taken seriously, and who are righteous and responsible, will only talk about ending White Supremacy (Racism) and replacing it with Justice." FUNKTIONARY

From [NYT] When the Glynn County Police Department arrived at the scene of a fatal shooting in February in southeastern Georgia, officers encountered a former colleague with the victim’s blood on his hands.

They took down his version of events and let him and his adult son, who had fired the shots, go home.

Later that day, Wanda Cooper, the mother of the 25-year-old victim, Ahmaud Arbery, received a call from a police investigator. She recounted later that the investigator said her son had been involved in a burglary and was killed by “the homeowner,” an inaccurate version of what had happened.

More than two months after that fatal confrontation, the Georgia Bureau of Investigation, which took over the case this week, arrested the former officer, Gregory McMichael, and his son, Travis McMichael, on charges of murder and aggravated assault.

The charges — which came after the release of a graphic video showing the killing as the two white men confront Mr. Arbery, who was African-American — made clear the depths of the local department’s bungling of the case, which was just the latest in a series of troubling episodes involving its officers.

And it was one element of the broader potential breakdown of the justice system in South Georgia. Attorney General Chris Carr, through a spokeswoman, said on Friday that he planned to start a review of all of the relevant players in that system.

Mr. Carr’s office has already determined that George E. Barnhill, a district attorney who was assigned the case in February but recused himself late last month, should have never taken it on. Among his many conflicts: His son once worked alongside one of the suspects at the local prosecutor’s office.

George Barnhill’s letter to Glynn County Police Department

S. Lee Merritt, a lawyer representing Mr. Arbery’s family, has called for a federal civil rights investigation focused not only on the men who pursued Mr. Arbery, but the broader justice system.

“It’s small-town America,” Mr. Merritt said in an interview on Thursday. “Those counties, the law enforcement community there they know each other well, they recycle officers in between themselves — it’s a very tight-knit community.”

Over the years, Glynn County police officers have been accused of covering up allegations of misconduct, tampering with a crime scene, interfering in an investigation of a police shooting and retaliating against fellow officers who cooperated with outside investigators.

The police chief was indicted days after Mr. Arbery’s killing on charges related to an alleged cover-up of an officer’s sexual relationship with an informant. The chief, John Powell, had been hired to clean up the department, which the Glynn County manager described last fall as suffering from poor training, outdated policies and “a culture of cronyism.”

The Glynn County force was the sort of department where disciplinary records went missing and where evidence room standards were not maintained, leading the state to strip it of its accreditation.

Mr. Arbery was killed after the McMichaels confronted him while he was running in the Satilla Shores neighborhood just outside of Brunswick, the Glynn County seat. But neither of the McMichaels was arrested immediately after the slaying, which occurred on Feb. 23 at about 1 p.m.

According to a police report, Gregory McMichael said that he saw Mr. Arbery running through his neighborhood and thought that he looked like the suspect in a rash of recent break-ins. Mr. McMichael, 64, told the authorities that he and his son, Travis McMichael, 34, armed themselves and began chasing him in a truck.

Gregory McMichael had been a Glynn County police officer from 1982 to 1989, and later worked as an investigator in the local prosecutor’s office, before retiring last year.

Darren W. Penn, a lawyer and a department critic, said the Ahmaud Arbery case was “another symptom or sign of a police department that appears willing to protect those that they know.”

Mr. Penn is representing a woman who is suing the department over claims that it failed to intervene with her estranged son-in-law, a Glynn County officer, who killed her daughter, a friend and himself in 2018.

County officials and a police spokesman could not be reached on Friday for comment.

From the start, Mr. McMichael’s connections to the police department and the prosecutor’s office presented other challenges.

The first district attorney assigned to the case, Jackie Johnson, recused herself because she had worked with Mr. McMichael. The second prosecutor, Mr. Barnhill, advised Glynn County police that there was “insufficient probable cause” to issue arrest warrants, according to an internal document.

In spite of what the video showed the white prosecutors apparently found the white killer’s statement that ‘he was able to clearly identify the burglar while he was "hauling ass" or running by him fast,’ to be credible. [MORE]

Finally, the case moved to Tom Durden, the district attorney in Georgia’s Atlantic Judicial Circuit in Hinesville, Ga., who this week formally asked the state bureau of investigation to get involved, according to a G.B.I. statement. A Justice Department spokesperson said this week that the F.B.I. was assisting in the investigation.

Bob Coleman, a county commissioner at large, was critical of Ms. Johnson, saying she should have given the case to the state attorney general, not Mr. Barnhill. After the Georgia Bureau of Investigation made arrests this week, Mr. Coleman said, “That’s what should have happened a long time ago before the sun went down. They killed a person in the bright sunlight.”

Glynn County is a marshy coastal corner of Georgia about 300 miles southeast of Atlanta with about 85,000 residents, and is known mostly for its mellow barrier islands and its rich African-American coastal culture.

Like many Southern communities, its history is studded with racial violence, including three late 19th-century lynchings. Today, the county is about 70 percent white and 27 percent black, according to census figures.

Over the last decade, the Glynn County Police Department, which has 122 officers, has faced at least 17 lawsuits, including allegations of illegal search and seizure.

Mr. Powell, the police chief, was arrested this year along with three other department officials after an investigation into a disbanded narcotics task force. The inquiry found that Mr. Powell had actively tried to shield wrongdoing by the task force. That led to his indictment on charges including violating the oath of office, criminal attempt to commit a felony and influencing a witness.

As details of Mr. Arbery’s death slowly emerged and were reported in The Brunswick News, Mr. Arbery’s mother, increasingly distraught, called the department. She said that she had been told one thing, but that the newspaper had reported something else entirely.

Ms. Cooper’s faith was shaken. “It’s hard when you can’t really believe what authority tells you, you know?” she said. “When you just cannot believe the people that’s supposed to look out for all people. And when you question that, it’s not a good feeling.” [MORE]