THE DAY THE SWAT TEAM CAME CRASHING THROUGH MY DOOR

I remember thinking, as I kneeled at gunpoint with my hands bound on
my living room floor, that there had been a terrible, terrible mistake.

An errant Prince George's County SWAT team had just forced its way
into our home, shot dead our two black Labradors, Payton and Chase,
and started ransacking our belongings as part of what would become a
four-hour ordeal.

The police found nothing, of course, to connect my family and me to a
box of drugs that they had been tracking and had delivered to our
front door. The community -- of which I am mayor -- rallied to our
side. A FedEx driver and accomplice were arrested in a drug
trafficking scheme. Ultimately, we were cleared of any wrongdoing,
but not before the incident drew international outrage.

This was 14 months ago. We have since filed suit, and I am confident
that we will find justice more quickly than most.

Yet, I remain captured by the broader implications of the incident.
Namely, that my initial take was wrong: It was no accident but rather
business as usual that brought the police to -- and through -- our front door.

In the words of Prince George's County Sheriff Michael Jackson, whose
deputies carried out the assault, "the guys did what they were
supposed to do" -- acknowledging, almost as an afterthought, that
terrorizing innocent citizens in Prince George's is standard fare.
The only difference this time seems to be that the victim was a
clean-cut white mayor with community support, resources and a story
to tell the media.

What confounds me is the unmitigated refusal of county leaders to
challenge law enforcement and to demand better -- as if civil rights
are somehow rendered secondary by the war on drugs.

Let me give you three specific concerns underscored by our case.

First, the Prince George's Police Department's internal affairs
division is broken. When the Justice Department released the county
police from federal supervision in February, the internal affairs
function was the one area that was not cleared. Internal affairs
division (IAD) investigations were required to take no longer than 90
days. More than a year after our ordeal, my family awaits the IAD
report on what happened at our home. The statute of limitations for
officer misconduct is 12 months, which means that any wrongdoers are
off the hook.

Next, there is significant evidence that the county is broadly
violating the Fourth Amendment, which protects against unreasonable
search and seizure. After initially claiming a "no-knock" warrant to
forcibly enter our home, county police acknowledged that they did not
have one. But they went on to contend that there is no such thing as
a "no-knock" warrant in Maryland. But this isn't true. A statewide
"no-knock" warrant statute was passed in 2005. Effectively, the
county is denying the existence of state law. We can't get the county
to say whether it has ever followed the law or, at a minimum, even
acknowledges it.

Finally, and perhaps most disturbing of all, county police may be
lying to cover up their civil rights violations. A county officer on
the scene told Berwyn Heights police a fabricated tale to justify the
warrantless entry of our home. The lie disappeared after they learned
that I was the mayor. Charges of a police coverup are hardly unusual,
but there is significant evidence that county law enforcement engaged
in a conspiracy on our lawn to justify an illegal entry. Nothing
strikes at the heart of police credibility like creative report
writing and false testimony to cover up a lie or even put innocent
people behind bars. Swift and serious consequences are the best deterrent.

In fairness, some good has come from the incident. State leaders have
passed legislation that will provide statewide oversight of SWAT
teams -- a first-in-the-nation law that will shine a light on the
troubling trend of paramilitary policing.

Yet, the wagons have circled in Upper Marlboro. The response is
textbook: Law enforcement stands its ground and concedes no
wrongdoing -- and elected officials burrow their heads in the sand.

As an imperfect elected official myself, I can understand a mistake
- -- even a terrible one. But a pattern and practice of police abuse
treated with utter indifference rips at the fabric of our social
compact and virtually guarantees more of the same.