“Oh my God, what happened?”
I have never been consistent in my reaction to death. I have been sometimes unmoved by the deaths of those near me, and I have burst into tears watching strangers eulogize other strangers. But a sudden, unexpected death inflames my curiosity. That is consistent. The announcement of an unexpected death has caused “Oh my God, what happened?” to be my immediate response more than once. When confronted by a death that not only tears through emotions but genuinely surprises as well, the need to question it seems instinctual, forceful and immediate.
If you read last week’s journal and were unfamiliar with David Joseph then the summary of his death probably left you with a lot of questions. What was he doing on that street naked? What drove Officer Geoffrey Freeman’s thought process when responding? What exactly happened that day, all context included? For myself, each time I return to David’s death I find it more enigmatic than before.
When I initially searched for details on David’s death, all that existed were short, newsflashsynopses of what had occurred. Then I found access to Geoffrey Freeman’s disciplinary memo, which explained much more in specifics but was devoid of personal interviews and grossly marred in redactions. This was followed by the release of Freeman’s dashcam footage, but that only revealed enough to confirm a few details from the memo’s terse descriptions. I traveled to Austin and uncovered more there as well, visiting the scene of David’s killing and envisioning how his homicide unfolded.
Recently, Internal Affairs released their report containing interviews with Geoffrey Freeman as well as with friends and family of David Joseph. I have discovered further clarity scavenging the pieces disseminated by local media, but there is still much to learn. (I say pieces because I am still waiting on my own copy of the report from APD). Each new fragment of evidence has brought me to rethink my perception of David’s death, but I imagine I am still far from finished.
Still, nearly half a year has passed since David lost his life and I feel required to write down what I have collected so far. Using all these sources (while continually searching for others), I have been able to convert the Rashomon-esque accounts of what took place that morning into one unified narrative.
I urge you to remain empathetic yet skeptical. This is not an objective retelling; this is my retelling. This is my propaganda on behalf of someone who would’ve told you the truth, had he the chance.
To the best of my knowledge this is the answer to “what happened?”