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Ex-officer who shot Breonna Taylor gets 3 years — but DOJ asked for zero?
Ex-officer who shot Breonna Taylor gets 3 years — but DOJ asked for zero?

The Hill

time22-07-2025

  • Politics
  • The Hill

Ex-officer who shot Breonna Taylor gets 3 years — but DOJ asked for zero?

I have reported on injustice for years now. And every so often, a case cuts deeper — not just as a journalist, but as a Black woman. Last night, that moment came again. A former Kentucky police officer, Brett Hankison, was sentenced to just under three years in prison for firing blindly into Breonna Taylor's apartment during the botched 2020 raid that ended her life. Here's what activist and Attorney Benjamin Crump had to say about the sentencing: 'And even though it's not what we wanted — we thought that he should have gotten more time — we are grateful to Kristen Clark, Merrick Garland and the Department of Justice who had the courage for the first time in history to bring federal charges against a police officer for killing a Black woman in America/ And we are thankful that he is at least going to prison and has to think about Breonna Taylor and that her life mattered.' The 33 month sentence came down after the judge outright rejected the Justice Department's recommendation that former officer Hankison should serve no prison time. Imagine that: the Justice Department, the department that we — Black communities and all Americans — are told to trust for justice, suggested this officer's crime was worth zero time behind bars. I sat with that, because that's not just a legal decision. That's a message. Breonna Taylor was a 26-year-old Black woman. An EMT. Someone whose literal job was to save lives. She could have been any of us. She was any of us. She had plans. She had love in her life. She had a future. And all of that ended on March 13, 2020, because of a 'no-knock' warrant tied to someone who didn't even live at her address — because police fired without care or confirmation. She was killed because Kenneth Walker, her boyfriend, thought intruders were breaking in, and because our system didn't value her enough to get it right. They didn't find drugs that they were supposedly looking for. They didn't find evidence. What they found were lives destroyed. What hurts, in this moment, is not just the injustice — it's the pattern. It's the normalization. And what's more exhausting is having to explain why we're still yelling Breonna's name in 2025. We're not chanting her name out of rage. We're chanting it because we're begging people to see Black women not as strong Black women, not as superhuman, not as invisible victims, but as whole human beings who deserve to live freely and safely, just like everyone else. Too often, America doesn't. This country has always been a place where Black women's contributions are celebrated, but our lives are discounted. I have watched us hailed as 'backbones' and 'trailblazers,' while our disappearances go uncovered, our murders go unresolved, and our voices in the delivery room go unheard. We are either heroic or irrelevant — rarely human. Even in Breonna's death, that played out. There wasn't outrage in every corner. There wasn't unanimous support. There was division. There were justifications. There were quiet dismissals. 'She was in the wrong place at the wrong time.' But no — she was in her own home. And still, it wasn't safe. I think about how different that night could have been if a little bit of care had been shown — if due diligence had been done, if police had simply knocked, announced themselves, and handed her a warrant addressed to someone else. She and Kenneth could have gone back to bed. She would still be here today, probably working a shift, saving lives. Instead, her mother had to bury her child. I don't want to stand here, five years later, explaining this to our audience. But I have to, because the same country that tells me it's too 'divisive' to teach Black history in schools now tells me that Breonna's life didn't warrant accountability. That's the message when federal agencies scrub the word 'oppression' from websites. That's the message when museums are criticized for acknowledging racism. That's the message when an officer who fired recklessly gets a recommended sentence of nothing. And yet we're told to move on. I can't. We can't. This isn't about anger. This is about humanity. Calling out Breonna Taylor's name today isn't a protest. It's a reminder that Black women are human beings — complex, vulnerable, powerful, flawed, loving, dreaming human beings. Not afterthoughts, not martyrs, but people who deserve to be protected, remembered. And most importantly, who deserve to live like everybody else. That's why I keep saying her name: 'Breonna Taylor.'

DOJ seeks 1-day sentence for officer in Breonna Taylor killing. It's an insult.
DOJ seeks 1-day sentence for officer in Breonna Taylor killing. It's an insult.

USA Today

time20-07-2025

  • Politics
  • USA Today

DOJ seeks 1-day sentence for officer in Breonna Taylor killing. It's an insult.

DOJ's one-day sentencing recommendation sends a chilling message. Across America, Black women disproportionately suffer police violence – and all too often their deaths are brushed aside. On Monday, July 21, a federal judge will sentence former Louisville police officer Brett Hankison for violating the civil rights of Breonna Taylor. And yet the Department of Justice, under Trump‑appointed leadership, has recommended just one day in prison, which Hankison may never serve due to time already credited. That recommendation is woefully inadequate and a profound insult to Breonna, her family – whom I represent – and to the Constitution's promise of 'equal protection of the laws.' Across America, Black women disproportionately suffer police violence, and all too often their deaths are brushed aside. According to a 2024 study, Black women and girls are 40% more likely to be killed by police than White women, despite comprising just 15% of the female U.S. population. More than half of these deaths were callously classified as 'collateral damage,' meaning the women were not even the intended targets of the police action that took their lives. Adding insult to tragedy, convictions in these cases are nearly nonexistent. While fewer than 3% of police killings ever result in criminal charges, even fewer lead to convictions, especially for Black women. Our legal team has found no record of an on-duty police officer ever being convicted for killing a Black woman. Breonna Taylor was killed in her own home during a no-knock raid that never should have happened. Hankison fired 10 shots blindly through a covered window and door. The fact that none of those bullets struck Breonna was chance, not restraint. A federal jury rightly found his actions violated her civil rights. The law says that matters, but the DOJ wants you to believe it doesn't. This is not about vengeance. It's about accountability. This one-day sentencing recommendation sends a chilling message that even when an officer is convicted of violating a citizen's constitutional rights in a violent, deadly act, the penalty is little more than symbolic. It signals to police across the country that civil rights violations may come with no meaningful accountability, as long as the victim is Black. Let's be clear: this is not about vengeance. It's about justice. It's about enforcing the Constitution's protections for all Americans, regardless of race, gender, income or zip code. When federal prosecutors break from precedent to recommend an outrageously lenient sentence in a high-profile civil rights case, they undermine the very principles they're sworn to uphold. It tells families like Breonna's that even a conviction is not enough. It tells Black women that their lives, their rights and their humanity hold less value. And it tells the entire nation that the Constitution is negotiable. Opinion: US leads the world in deadly force by police. Why? Sadly, this goes beyond Breonna Taylor. It's about Pamela Turner, a Black woman with a mental illness who was killed by police in Texas. It's about Sonya Massey, a young Black woman in Illinois recently shot and killed by a sheriff's deputy after calling 911 for help. Massey's case hasn't yet gone to trial, but how that case is handled will be another test of whether our justice system truly sees Black women as worthy of equal protection. Again and again, Black women's lives are devalued, their suffering dismissed, and their deaths met with silence or slaps on the wrist. These names are not footnotes. They are evidence that the system sees Black women as disposable, and it's long past time for that to change. Breonna Taylor's mother is heartbroken, but she has hope for justice The 14th Amendment doesn't say 'equal protection, unless you're a Black woman.' It promises justice under the law for all. And yet, time and time again, the system refuses to extend that promise to Black women. Breonna Taylor's death was a preventable tragedy. And the lack of meaningful accountability for those involved is a national disgrace. The judicial system must send a clear message: when police officers violate civil rights, they will be held accountable. The federal sentencing guidelines exist for a reason. They must be applied fairly, including when the victim is a Black woman. Opinion: Juneteenth marks end of slavery, but not the start of equality. We can change that. Breonna's mother, Tamika Palmer, is heartbroken and angry. Once again. The fact that neither of the officers who shot her daughter – Jonathan Mattingly and Myles Cosgrove – were charged with her killing, is a heartbreak that will never go away. But she still holds out hope that the judge will reject this recommendation and do what the DOJ has refused to: honor the jury's verdict, respect the law and the guidelines and recognize the value of her daughter's life. If we want to build an America that truly lives up to its ideals, we must start by valuing Black women in our communities and in our courtrooms. That means listening to their voices, protecting their rights, and delivering real consequences when those rights are violated. Anything less is not justice, it's complicity. Ben Crump is a nationally renowned civil rights attorney and founder of Ben Crump Law. Known as 'Black America's attorney general,' he has represented families in some of the most high-profile civil rights cases of our time, including those of Breonna Taylor, George Floyd, Tyre Nichols and Ahmaud Arbery. You can read diverse opinions from our USA TODAY columnists and other writers on the Opinion front page, on X, formerly Twitter, @usatodayopinion and in our Opinion newsletter.

All American Might Be Going There With Coop's Love Life (and We Wish It Wouldn't)
All American Might Be Going There With Coop's Love Life (and We Wish It Wouldn't)

Yahoo

time18-03-2025

  • Entertainment
  • Yahoo

All American Might Be Going There With Coop's Love Life (and We Wish It Wouldn't)

All American Yeah, we suppose that All American breakup was inevitable. More from TVLine CW Sets Dates for Sherlock & Daughter, Sullivan's Crossing Season 3 and Children Ruin Everything's Final Run Leighton Meester Talks Good Cop/Bad Cop's Quirky Gilmore Girls-Meets-Twin Peaks Vibe, Adam Brody's Guest Spot All American Bosses Break Down Olivia's Big News in Episode 2 - Including a Bonus Spoiler! During Monday's episode of the CW drama, long-distance lovebirds Coop and Patience decided to permanently call it quits, punctuating an on-again-off-again relationship that dates back to the show's first season. Patience, who's been away performing in a Broadway show, revealed she'd been invited to star in a brand-new stage production coming to London's West End. Coop recognized that she's fully thrown herself into her law school studies. And in a tearful-but-amicable breakup scene that paid sweet tribute to the couple's series-long romance, Patience and Coop ended things for good. Logistically, at least, the writing was on the wall for these two. Bre-Z, who plays Coop, returned as a series regular this season — one of only three All American OGs to do so — while Chelsea Tavares did not. With that arrangement, it'd be tough to keep even the strongest TV couple alive. In some alternate CW universe, maybe this pair could have gone the distance, but they seemed destined to separate in this one. With Patience now out of the picture, though (and hardly on Coop's mind when she was in the picture), All American appears to be speeding toward another narrative inevitability, and it's one that we're giving some preemptive side-eye: a potential romantic something between Coop and her law school professor, Breonna Strong. Breonna, who teaches Coop's torts class, first showed up in Episode 2 of the current seventh season, skillfully talking Coop down from a first-day-of-law-school panic attack. At the time, neither woman realized that Coop would be a student in Breonna's classroom — but that revelation hasn't squashed their chummy dynamic, either. In fact, the lines have only gotten blurrier since then: Coop watches Breonna's class lectures on repeat, even when she attended them in person; they've spent time alone in Breonna's office, including a long hangout that involved alcohol; and Breonna recently dropped the news that she's into women, which seemed to pique Coop's interest. It's possible we're off-base with our assumptions here. Maybe nothing will come of Coop and Breonna's increasingly friendly vibe. Maybe something briefly will — they're both single now, after all — but one of them will have the good sense to end it. (Ideally Breonna, for obvious reasons.) Maybe Layla, who's already picked up on Coop and Breonna's unusual closeness, will find a way to insert herself more forcefully as the voice of reason that Coop's been tuning out. But the show has already dropped enough clues that something is starting between these two, something that might not be extinguished until they've acted on their whatever-is-going-on-here — and we're worried about that. For one? It's weird and inappropriate. Sure, Coop is in her 20s and capable of making her own romantic decisions… but a power imbalance is a power imbalance, and even a student-professor fling that seems mutual won't shake out evenly in the end, especially when said student is rebounding from a long-term love. That's especially worrisome for Coop, a character who's currently enjoying a richly deserved 'look how far she's come!' arc, one that we're concerned will get tarnished by this potential tryst. Coop has thus far taken law school extremely seriously — she's unsatisfied with any grade lower than an 'A' — and Breonna is not only a potential distraction, but a possible liability to Coop's success, should word get out around GAU about those after-hours office visits. We're already a little nervous for Coop, now that she's likely moving in with Amina and Preach, and circling some uncomfortable truths about what really happened to Amina's mom years ago. This yet-to-be-defined situation with Breonna only makes us more concerned for, and protective of, Coop's hard-fought stability — and though All American might very well overrule us in the weeks to come, this is one objection we've got to raise. fans, I hand it over to you. What are your thoughts on Coop's breakup with Patience, and whatever's brewing with Breonna? Drop a comment below. Best of TVLine Weirdest TV Crossovers: Always Sunny Meets Abbott, Family Guy vs. Simpsons, Nine-Nine Recruits New Girl and More ER Turns 30: See the Original County General Crew, Then and Now The Best Streaming Services in 2024: Disney+, Hulu, Max and More

Worn shoes and ashes in small urns: Reminders of Breonna Taylor remain 5 years after death
Worn shoes and ashes in small urns: Reminders of Breonna Taylor remain 5 years after death

USA Today

time13-03-2025

  • USA Today

Worn shoes and ashes in small urns: Reminders of Breonna Taylor remain 5 years after death

Worn shoes and ashes in small urns: Reminders of Breonna Taylor remain 5 years after death March 13 marks five years since police killed Breonna Taylor, but to many who knew and loved her the most, it 'feels just like yesterday.' Show Caption Hide Caption Breonna Taylor: Bianca Austin talks about niece's death 5 years later Five years after police killed Breonna Taylor, her aunt Bianca Austin reminisces about her niece's charm and what she misses the most. It's been five years since police in Louisville, Kentucky, killed Breonna Taylor, but family and friends say it still "feels just like yesterday." Loved ones remember Taylor as "the glue" who held them together and "an angel on Earth." This story is the first in a series of coverage The Louisville Courier Journal, part of the USA TODAY Network, will publish over the next few months, marking five years since Louisville police killed Breonna Taylor and protests erupted over her death. Look for content online and in print, including videos, photos and articles exploring what Breonna meant to people and what has changed since she was fatally shot. The last pair of shoes Breonna Taylor bought her goddaughter are about three sizes too small now. But Breonna loved the 'just so cute' pair of green and silver sneakers. And five years after Breonna's death, the 13-year-old can't bring herself to let them go. Before police shot and killed Breonna in her South End apartment in Louisville, Kentucky, in March 2020, prompting thousands of protesters to take to Louisville's streets in her name for more than 150 days, Breonna was Erinicka Hunter's 'ride or die' best friend and the godmother to her daughter, Erin. The 26-year-old Black woman was a daughter, a niece, a role model to her cousins and siblings, and 'the glue' of her friend group, who organized game nights and girl trips. March 13 marks five years since she died, but to Hunter and many of the people who knew and loved her the most, it 'feels just like yesterday.' 'I know if (Breonna) would see Erin right now, she'd just cry, because she's all grown up,' Hunter said. 'She's so mature, and she'd really love who she is becoming.' Hunter paused. Her eyes welled with tears. 'Gosh, that hurts.' Breonna, who would have turned 32 this year, has missed so much in the past five years. She'd spent most of her 20s setting goals and checking off boxes. Just weeks before she died, she'd finally purchased her dream car. She was working in two different emergency rooms as an ER technician and as a patient transport, as she saved up for a house and to attend nursing school. If she'd lived, Hunter said she'd almost certainly be a nurse by now. Her best friend thrived when she was helping people. Breonna was goal-oriented and focused. That all changed when LMPD officers with a 'no-knock" warrant used a battering ram to break down her apartment door during a botched drug investigation. The officers returned a single, defensive shot fired by her boyfriend, Kenneth Walker, with a volley of bullets. Six of them hit Breonna. "She was most definitely supposed to be here,' Hunter said. 'She was robbed. She was robbed, and it was wrong. They were wrong.' Breonna's death spurred a series of historic police reforms in Louisville. It banned no-knock search warrants that allow officers to burst in unannounced, like the one obtained to search Breonna's home. It created a civilian review board and hired an inspector general to review questionable actions by Louisville Metro Police Department. It promised more than a dozen reforms as part of a $12 million settlement with Breonna's family. And it signed a wide-reaching consent decree with the U.S. Department of Justice, intended to guide police practices for years to come. But Breonna was so much more than a catalyst for change. She was a person deeply loved by her friends and family. And after five years, many of them still can't believe she's gone. Previous coverage: Why Black women in Louisville are still saying Breonna Taylor's name 'I never thought it would be Breonna' The words "Breonna died" still feel wrong to her friend Elysia Bowman. Over the years she'd seen reports of Black people dying at the hands of the police, but Bowman said it was hard to imagine it happening to someone you know. The night before Breonna died, she and her boyfriend enjoyed dinner at Texas Roadhouse and gave a friend's kids a ride across town. It was her first night off in awhile. She'd worked a few consecutive 12-hour shifts as an ER technician, so the couple climbed into bed and turned on a movie. At about 12:40 a.m., a racket at the door startled them out of bed. They yelled out and asked "who's there?" but didn't hear a response, Walker said. When Walker saw the door "come off its hinges," he fired a warning shot at the ground, which hit LMPD officer Jonathan Mattingly. He and two other officers returned fire with more than 20 bullets. A bullet struck near Taylor's heart, tearing through her main pulmonary artery connecting her heart and lungs, and the lower lobe of her left lung. Other bullets hit her forearm, thigh, abdomen, foot and right heel. She was dead by 12:43 a.m. For Bowman, it's still unthinkable that all this happened to one of her friends. "I never thought it would be Breonna," Bowman said. "That's crazy. Her of all people. You would never think." The pair met in high school in a silly little moment where Bowman confused Breonna as another friend. Somehow she ended up at Breonna's house later that day, and from then on Bowman always thought of her as a big sister. Something changed inside Bowman the more she got to know her new friend. She watched Breonna work hard in school while balancing a job at Steak N' Shake. She saw how Breonna's cousins and siblings looked up to her and admired her work ethic. Bowman's parents didn't allow her to stay the night at friends' houses on school nights, but Breonna's house was always the exception. Bowman can still hear her, shaking her awake in the morning. "I'm about to take you to school," Breonna would holler at her. "Come on, get up! It's time for you to go to school." "You're supposed to be my friend," Bowman would groan back. She was, of course. One of the greatest Bowman has ever had. "I think about all those years, and just knowing her, and how she was," Bowman said, still stunned at the loss. "And then what happened to her, and the way it happened was tragic and really messed up. It makes you think, 'dang, she really was an angel on Earth.'" Five years later, she feels like that angel is still with her. Every day since Breonna passed, Bowman has seen the numbers 3/13 in one way or another. Sometimes the date Breonna died appears on a clock or a license plate. She's spotted it in random numbers on receipts and paperwork. Occasionally, it's part of an address. Sometimes when working in her at-home hair studio, she'll be standing behind a client crying softly as one of Breonna's favorite songs comes on. Music by PnB Rock or "Everything" by Mary J. Blige always hit her right in the heart. In those moments, she'll say softly out loud, "Girl, I know that's you." 'She just loved that togetherness' Bianca Austin, Taylor's aunt, misses her niece's voice the most. It was 'squeaky,' just a bit 'whiny' and very distinct. Breonna had the kind of voice you could pick out from across the room. 'Come on, y'all, it's about to be my birthday. What we doing?' Austin said, doing her best imitation of Breonna. The answer was nearly as endearing as Austin's impression. For her birthday one year, Breonna suggested they all have a Thanksgiving-like feast in June. At the time, her family all laughed at this because it was barbecue season. Who else but Breonna would want to turn on an oven in June? But Breonna had a knack for bringing her friends and family together, whether it was this unseasonable dinner, a night of playing cards or planning a girls' weekend away, another aunt, Tahasha Holloway, said. Having been raised as the first child, first niece and first grandchild, she was extremely family orientated. 'She just loved that togetherness,' Holloway remembered. 'When we come together, we were laughing, we're playing games. She has a little bit of an old soul, so listening to the (older) music, and we're playing all the card games that our mom taught us, like, Skip-Bo and Phase 10.' She treasured spending time with her grandmother 'Suga Mama.' Her cousins and siblings idolized her. Breonna embraced the work ethic she saw in her mother and aunts, so much so she chose health-related careers just like all three of them did. 'She kept on her path,' Holloway said. 'Somehow, she was able to figure out that balance in life ... where you want to balance having fun, but also balance taking care of business.' Nearly as memorable as her affinity for fun and community was Breonna's sense of style. She loved high heels and Air Jordans, Bowman said. She could dress up or dress down, and somehow, she always looked fabulous. Her shoes, purse and jewelry always tied her whole look together. She loved and thrived in fashion details. As the family planned Breonna's funeral in 2020, they honored that passion. Holloway helped do her hair for the services, and they tapped a friend to fix her makeup. They picked out a blue jumpsuit for the wake and a white dress for the funeral itself. Never in her life would Breonna have been caught in the same outfit two days in a row. Her family knew she wouldn't want that in death, either. Breonna Taylor's big love, loyalty and signature sass Not a day goes by that Breonna's family and friends don't think about her. Her sister, Juniyah Palmer, kept some of her favorite shoes. Her goddaughter wears a gold bracelet that once belonged to her, and a small urn of some of Breonna's ashes sits on the Hunter family's kitchen table. Even five years later, seeing pictures and murals of her godmother around town is surreal. "Knowing that her memory isn't going to die, it's very happy but a sad feeling at the same time," Erin said. Austin has thrown herself into fighting against police brutality and advocating for social and human equality. She serves as executive director of Families United Corp. and is at forefront of campaigns to enact legislative reforms, including "Breonna Taylor's No-Knock Law" and the "George Floyd Justice in Policing Act." 'It's a never-ending fight that needs to end, that needs to be right,' Austin said. Bowman spends a lot of time thinking about everything Breonna would have accomplished. Buying a house was definitely on her list, and her relationship with her boyfriend was nearing the point of engagement. When Bowman helped Breonna's family clean up her apartment after her death, she found a pair of baby shoes. That broke her heart. Breonna always wanted to be a mom. Hunter knows that first-hand. She lived with Breonna's mother while she was pregnant with Erin. 'That's my baby,' Breonna would tell her wryly. She found so much joy in helping with her goddaughter that Hunter jokes Breonna could have filed Erin on her taxes. She was right there, helping Erin get dressed, telling her jokes and teaching how to play UNO. That's what a 'ride or die' friend is. And that's what Breonna was before LMPD officers fired the shots that ended her life. That's who she was before the 911 calls were released from the night she died, and thousands of protesters took to the streets in her name in Louisville and beyond. Five years after her tragic death, the world knows Breonna as someone who sparked international outrage and criminal justice reform. But her family and friends remember her for all the big love, loyalty and signature sass she brought to their world every day. Courier Journal reporter Lucas Aulbach, and editor Bailey Loosemore assisted in the reporting of this story. Some information for this feature was pulled from Courier Journal archive stories.

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