Sunday, April 25, 2021
Sunday Reflection: The snow, again
It's supposed to snow here today. That happens in Minnesota in April (Prince even had a song about that, titled Sometimes It Snows in April). I'm pretty sure that the snow is just a device to make sure all the out-of-town news crews here for the Chauvin trial head home.
That verdict, of course, came in on Tuesday. I was in the middle of teaching first-year students criminal law at the time. Everyone's phone went off at the same time-- the University sent an emergency message signalling that the verdict was about to come in and shutting down the campus. I didn't have much choice; I finished the case and let everyone go.
I went down to my office, which is on the fourth floor of our school, looking out towards Nicollet Mall and downtown Minneapolis. The street beneath is 11th Street, which leads out of town to the expressway. Suddenly-- for the first time since the pandemic hit, really-- the street was jammed with cars and people tried to get out of the city. People were driving kind of crazy.
As time went on, it got more crazier. One or more helicopters whirred overhead, and there were sirens near and far. My phone rang; it was the local public radio station wanting to get my reaction when the verdict was read.
That's why I was sitting with the phone in my hand when Judge Cahill took the bench. Eerily, outside everything went quiet. The traffic jam evaporated, and I saw cars pull over to the side of the road, so the drivers could focus on the verdict.
When Judge Cahill announced a verdict of guilty on the most serious count, Second Degree Murder, I was relieved. It was the verdict I thought was right, having watched most of the trial. But there was another emotion, too, a deep sadness.
I mentioned earlier in the week that criminal law is all tragedy, and it is. I remember serving as a prosecutor and having the judge announce the verdict of guilty and feeling exactly that way: a deep sadness about it all. The verdict would not bring back George Floyd. It marked, more than anything, a recognition of a pungent truth about our society and the role of violence and race within it.
That sat in me, simmering for a minute. Then the people on the phone wanted to know what I thought.
