RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN POLICE, BLACKS STILL OFTEN TENUOUS IN SHOALS

Temperatures soared well into the 90s on that August evening in 1994.

The body of a 17-year-old boy had just been found in a wooded area in west
Florence, a predominantly black area of the city. Word had traveled
throughout the community that Chris Stanback had been killed, and hundreds
of blacks -- mostly males -- had come to see what was going on.

Rocks and bottles were tossed at police who were trying to secure the crime
scene. They were signs of growing unrest between police and west Florence
residents at the time.

Some say the reaction was a result of building tension in the neighborhood.
Three months earlier, Florence police targeted about 100 people in a drug
sting known as Operation Copy Cat.

Florence Councilman Sam Pendleton remembers those days as being the most
unstable times in the tradition-rich neighborhood.

He also remembers those turbulent days as a time when attitudes toward
police changed for the better as residents joined police to take back their
neighborhood.

Others living there have a totally different view. They see the slaying of
Stanback and the drug raid as solid proof that police are the enemy to
blacks, not their friends, because the homicide has yet to be solved and
the raid centered primarily on blacks in the community.

Police say they must deal with the negative perception directed toward them
from some blacks every day. Those blacks say they live every day with the
fear that they will be singled out and harassed by police because of the
color of their skin.

Some in predominantly black communities throughout the Shoals complain that
police overreact when they are called to their neighborhoods.

They say a dozen patrol cars often respond to even minor incidents, which
leaves residents angry and feeling singled out.

Police, on the other hand, say they have learned over the years to alter
their response procedures in high crime areas, regardless of whether the
neighborhoods have mostly black or white residents.

Both sides are convinced their perception is accurate.

Who's right? It depends on who is doing the talking.

Bitter feelings still exist between Florence police and some people in west
Florence as a result of the unsolved Stanback slaying. Rumors remain
persistent, from the night his body was found until today, that police had
something to do with Stanback's death.

Police investigators, who have even solicited help from outside agencies in
recent months, have begged for anyone with substantive evidence to support
that belief to come forward. No one has.

"I wish we could do something to satisfy the people in the community who
still believe that," said Florence Police Chief Rick Singleton. "We've
pursued all theories and followed all leads. There's been officers who've
taken polygraphs (issued by Huntsville police) and that's never been made
public.

"By the way, the officers passed."

Florence resident Marquez Ray, a student at Northwest-Shoals Community
College, is one of a group of people who say the Stanback case is evidence
that Florence police don't investigate crimes against blacks with the same
zeal as those against whites.

"I want the person who did it, whether they're wearing a badge or not,"
Singleton said. "In my opinion, there's people in the community who could
probably help us solve this, and, for whatever reason, haven't come forward."

Mistrust between police and blacks is nothing new. It has lived for
generations. Most police will agree that the perception was warranted in
the past, and they will concede there are still racist officers on the
streets in most cities nationwide.

They're quick to point out, however, that racism is not tolerated by
departments in the Shoals.

"In this department, there is no room for racism," said Florence police
Capt. Spence Butler, the first black in the department to achieve the rank
of captain. "It's something we don't tolerate, and if someone is doing
that, they're on their way out the door."

Butler, who joined the force in 1989, said the department, under
Singleton's leadership, has made great strides in reaching out to all areas
of the community.

Most experts who have studied the relationships between minorities and law
enforcement say the negative perceptions have been handed down through
families and neighborhoods.

To understand current sentiment, history must be considered.

For several weeks in the late 1970s, WZZA-AM, the first black-owned radio
station in north Alabama, had a problem with vandalism, said General
Manager Tori Bailey. She said Tuscumbia police and the Colbert County
Sheriff's Office each claimed the other had jurisdiction at the station,
which was at the time in a rural section of Woodmont Drive. So, neither
patrolled the area.

The harassment continued until vandals burned a cross in the station's
front yard. Finally, the late Bob Carl Bailey, the station's founder and
owner at the time, met with some local Klansmen to find out why they were
attacking his business.

Tori Bailey said the Klan wasn't responsible for the damage and volunteered
to patrol the area. Eventually, Klansmen found the culprits.

"Race relations in the South are a funny thing," Tori Bailey said.

The perception by her father and other blacks was that local law
enforcement was less interested in enforcing crime against blacks.

Officers within local departments don't pretend the relationship was always
good, but they say that was then.

Florence began hiring black officers in the mid-1960s. Charles Perkins
joined the force a few years later and worked as an officer in Florence and
Sheffield off and on until 1992.

He said he dealt with racists inside and outside the department, but he
won't talk much about specific incidents from those early years in his career.

"If you didn't live in that era, you shouldn't have to go through that," he
said. By the time he retired, though, the situation was completely different.

"In this era, we have some fine law enforcement," he said. "I'm proud of
them; they do a fine job. I think the community should be a little more
appreciative of their law enforcement officers."

But the perception that predominantly black neighborhoods are
underprotected while crimes committed by blacks are pursued overly
aggressively has not changed among some blacks.

"If (police) go to the west side (of Florence), if you have a white person
in your car, they'll pull you over," said Stefani Moore, a 31-year-old
resident of Florence and a student at Northwest-Shoals Community College in
Muscle Shoals. "I don't like the way they sit over there, all the time
harassing. They just sit there making sure you don't do anything."

Moore couldn't cite any specific examples of police harassment or
brutality. Her own experiences with police have been few and far between.

"They just get on my nerves," she said. "I try not to fool with them. I
hope they don't try to fool with me."

Ray, a 26-year-old who admits to drug and assault arrests, said police have
"done their share of dirt." Like Moore and others interviewed, Ray declined
to give specifics.

"They know what they did," he said.

The idea of corrupt, racist cops persists, often unsupported by facts or
first-hand experience and despite the fact that police are better trained
and more educated.

Pendleton blames himself and other black leaders like him for perpetuating
the idea that officers are always in the wrong.

Before he was elected to the city council in 1992, Pendleton said he was
always quick to accuse police and see a racist behind every badge. When he
was elected, he began requesting weekly reports about police activity and
viewing patrol car videotapes.

He estimates that most of what is called police misconduct was actually a
response to residents' behavior.

"I found a lot of things that happened were provoked by the community, by
overreaction by the subject," he said.

Pendleton mentioned one traffic stop six years ago that led to rocks and
bottles being thrown at officers.

"Always blaming the police department is not helpful to the community," he
said. "Always blaming the police department gives the hoodlums free reign."

Tuscumbia police Capt. Bernard Pugh, the first black in the Shoals to reach
that rank and a 20-year veteran, says mistrust in police is handed down
from parents.

"Parents tell kids, 'Look out. The police are gonna get you,' " he said.
"We tell people now to say we're here to help. If you have a problem, you
need to come to us with your problem."

Scandals in other cities - such as the Rodney King beating in Los Angeles -
fuel the negative perception. Ray talked about a friend shot by police in
Birmingham; and Moore and her classmate, Tennille Beasley, agreed that such
incidents colored their view of local law enforcement.

Sheffield police detective Greg Ray acknowledged that a brutality case in
Chicago or Atlanta can lead to a tough day for him, but the effect cuts
both ways.

"After Sept. 11 when all cops were heroes, we got that even though it
happened in New York."

People who don't trust police often don't talk to police. And police who
can't get information can't solve crimes. In turn, that makes neighborhoods
less safe and plays into the idea that police don't care about certain
neighborhoods.

Butler points to a recent daytime shooting in Florence as an example to
emphasize the point.

"I find it hard to believe that on West Mobile Street at 12 in the
afternoon, you can shoot nine times and have nobody hear anything or see
anything," he said. "That's unheard of."

Singleton and others say there are several people who know who killed
Stanback. Similarly, there were dozens of people who witnessed a young
black man being killed at the North Alabama Dragway in Colbert County 10
years ago, but none of them have being willing to tell investigators.

"Once bitten, twice shy," Bailey said, referring to the attitude shown to
police by some blacks.

"I believe that the community, once shown a different reaction from (law
enforcement), will certainly appreciate that enough to be more cooperative,
welcoming and interactive."

The typical reaction is not, of course, the universal one.

Greg Ray and fellow Sheffield police detective Capt. Curtis Burns, both
white men in their 40s, say the black community in their city isn't any
more or less willing to talk than any other constituency. The age of the
person they're dealing with or the crime they're investigating makes a
bigger difference than race, they said.

"People are less likely to talk in theft or burglary cases than assault or
murder," Ray said.

"I can't say that's black or white; that's just people."

Pendleton puts it in life-or-death terms.

"The black community has to decide who is the true enemy - the gangs, drug
dealers, robbers and others who keep our community in bondage - if we
decide we want peace of mind in the community," he said. "If we don't want
that, we have to seek open lines of communication to the people who keep
our community safe.

"There will never be enough police to keep our community totally safe. They
have to work hand in hand with the community."

Racial profiling is generally taken to mean law enforcement stopping or
arresting blacks based on the color of their skin instead of probable cause.

It is popularly known among many blacks as DWB -- driving while black. But
where is the line between profiling, which is illegal and discriminatory,
and patrolling, which responds to patterns of crime and is evidence of good
police work?

Some people complain that predominantly black west Florence is over-patrolled.

"I'll buy that everyday," Butler said. "If you look back in the '80s,
people were jumping up and down for more police."

Residents living on Jarman Lane in Colbert County are adamant that
sheriff's deputies and state troopers are unnecessarily defensive and
dangerously aggressive when they come into the low-income, predominantly
black neighborhood.

"No one has ever told me that," said Colbert County Sheriff Ronnie May.
"Most folks who call us complain because we're not out there more often."

Deputies say they have been in life-threatening situations in the past
while working in the Jarman Lane area. The neighborhood in eastern Colbert
has a reputation for drug activity and violence.

Deputies responding to calls to the nightclub Doug's Place have found
themselves surrounded by hostile crowds, although May said unruly crowds
are an infrequent event.

"That is an area where we work pretty heavily," he said. "In the last year,
we've made over 90 calls just on that one road. Do guys go in there more
cautiously? Yes. I'd be more cautious going in there. (But) we've been
asked by most of the good people living in that area to be there."

May points to dozens of letters from people living in that neighborhood
thanking him for the department's efforts to clean up the area.

"We're making a difference in that area, just not as fast as some would
like us to," May said.

Florence is among the departments that document the number of citations
written to blacks and whites as ammunition for when anyone accuses the
department of racial profiling.

There are officers within the department who privately say the practice can
lead to reverse discrimination. Their thought is that if patrol officers
know they're being monitored, they might write citations to whites who
ordinarily would be given a warning, just to keep their numbers balanced.

At the same time, some blacks whose violation is serious enough to warrant
a ticket might be given a break. Since June 2002, Florence police have
issued citations to 5,908 whites and 1,436 blacks. Those numbers are in
line with city's population, which is 78 percent white and 19 percent
black, according to the 2000 census.

Heather MacDonald, a senior fellow at the Manhattan Institute and the
author of "Are Cops Racist? How the War Against the Police Harms Black
Americans," has similar thoughts.

She argues that asking police to stop searching black and Hispanic subjects
is foolish because blacks and Hispanics are statistically responsible for a
disproportionate amount of crime.

In a January editorial in the Los Angeles Times, she said, "To the charge
that the police have 'too many' law enforcement interactions with
minorities, the question must always be: 'Too many' compared to what? To
compare stop, search and arrest data to demographics, as cop critics would
have us do, is absurd. The police don't formulate their crime strategies
based on census findings; they go where the crime is."

Realizing there are some in the black community who remain convinced that
blacks cannot get a fair shake with law enforcement, some departments have
developed outreach programs to minority groups in an effort to improve
their image.

Police in Muscle Shoals and Sheffield play an annual basketball game to
raise money for muscular dystrophy.

Florence has a division devoted to community policing and officers play
basketball with young people at the Handy Community Center on Thursdays.
Sheffield police have a summer program that places officers with children
from the city's public housing facilities.

May said he encourages his deputies to interact with the public whenever
possible, but manpower constraints keep him from creating an organized program.

"We want people to see our officers at times other than when we have to
make an arrest or some other unpleasant duty," Singleton said. "We're not
the bad guys. We want them to know we're their friends and they can come to
us when they have a problem."