Seed bombs, trial run. Community vs. JSO, trial run.

I was in the garden yesterday putting together materials for the seed bomb workshop we'll be doing this Sunday at the festival. The last source of fill dirt we discovered was largely clay soil, but seed bomb recipes typically call for potter's clay. I wanted to see if we could use what we already had so I decided to do a trial run.

I laid the clay and some compost out to dry for a few days. Then I took a sheet of screen and laid it on a scrap of our bed-lining plastic. I put the clay on top and started crushing it with a rock to sift it into a fine powder. This took a while.

I did the same with the compost, and put the powdered stuff into separate buckets. Then I measured out some of each, added water, and started mixing. It was soupy, so I added more clay and more compost until I could form balls. It was a lot like making bread by hand.

The mix looked great! It was pretty sticky, and the balls held together just fine. I didn't add any seeds, so I'm not sure how that will affect things. I imagine it'll work.

I laid the balls out on the slab to dry.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Shortly after I finished I noticed a police car stopping a tall black man in the parking lot next door. I have instinctual issues with cops. I can't say I'm correct (in fact I think I'm wrong), but my instinct is to mistrust them, so I was watching this scenario thinking very negative things about the armed party, and sympathetic things about the unarmed and very calm citizen who was having his pockets rifled through.

Another officer showed up, which irked me. Y'all are never where you need to be, but eight of you show up to accost one unarmed black man?! (again, let me disclaim that my feelings about cops are not what I consider wholly rational. I'm sure they had some reason for stopping him. They must have.). Then, a smallish white man in a hawaiian shirt, who had recently walked past, heading north, returned and started mouthing off at the police. He was saying things I couldn't really hear, but probably agreed with. Things like, "F*&$ you, Lieutenant!", and something about false charges. He walked on past the scene, and it was then that the officers yelled, "Hey, come back here!" One officer ran after him (why?!), brought him back (he came along willingly), and then threw him onto the ground (which made my heart drop to my feet). I should have shouted at that point, something like, "I'm watching you." but I just watched, terrified that I would have to watch this crazy but harmless fellow be brutalized.

They put him in the car, and he sat there for a while. Then, inexplicably, they dragged him out of the car and threw him to the sand. His face was in this awful dusty dirt, but he didn't appear to be struggling. The officer was kneeling beside him, subduing him, and kneed him in the side several times. Then the guy started writhing, and his shirt was pulled off one shoulder. He was pretty much crying at this point, acting more pathetic than violent. The black fellow meanwhile, was squatting nearby, waiting to be released, shaking his head.

Then it got good.

Four other cars showed up (again, why?!). And around the same time Philip showed up to get the pickup truck and the grant money to use today. He asked me what was happening and I related what I'd seen. He said, "Alright, I'm going to go talk to them." And walked over.

All Richard saw when he passed the garden on his way to Zombie Bikes was Philip surrounded by five police cars and all the officers.

After Philip finished talking to the police, he returned to the garden and explained to me what had happened, what my rights were as a citizen witness, what the likely motivations were, etc. I was happy to learn this stuff, although it didn't alter my instinctual mistrust of police...at all.

Minutes later, Josh Dunn arrived at the garden. And then I saw Matt Bort biking up. Then Richard arrived, then Chris and Deirdre, and a few others.

I wondered if we were having a meeting about the festival or something. Then Richard explained that he'd seen the police surrounding Philip. He had gone straight to the bike shop, told everyone there, and they all immediately biked over to see what was going on.

I am happy to report that the friend corps' response time was something like three minutes. It was a false alarm, but I was stunned. I've been working with a neighborhood crime watch group in Riverside recently, wondering what to do, how to get it to come together. Yesterday it clicked. All you need is love, a sense of justice, and a willingness to drop everything the second your friend is in trouble.  ¶ 9:24 AM