My experience with excessive police force

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 22/12/2021 (1056 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

Are vulnerable citizens more likely to be targeted by police? Here is my experience. I was 13 years old, traveling with my family in the summer of 1972.

We lived on a Saskatchewan farm and were completing a road trip in the south central area. Preparing to overnight in a Moose Jaw hotel, my parents were getting stuff from the car in the parking lot.

Impatient and tired, I grabbed my pillow and walked alone to the hotel entrance. About midway, a car stopped. The passenger window rolled down. A man told me “Hey you, come here.”

This farm girl, unaccustomed to big town life, thought the worst. I ran toward my parents, still in the parking lot.

The car sped after me. The passenger came out of the car, grabbing me. I fell on the sidewalk. My knee was scraped and bleeding. As I was pinned to the hood of the car, I thought, “I’m about to die.”

My brother, witnessing the incident, yelled out, “Someone is trying to kill Armande.” My father ran toward the guy and put him in a headlock. As he did, the driver of the car, in a police uniform, came out and warned his plainclothed partner, “Watch out for that guy!”

Turns out they were City of Moose Jaw police officers in an unmarked car. They were apparently suspicious of a teenager carrying a pillow they felt might contain drugs. These were the hippie days but, really? Did I look dangerous?

Livid, my father took me to the police station as I hobbled behind him with my bloodied knee, still in shock.

The police officer at the station informed my father of previous incidents involving this Rambo style cop.

The undercover cop was called in to meet us in the station office. My father, expressed his anger while the cop sat listening. I remember sitting further behind but can’t recall the exchange.

Charges could only be pressed the following morning. My parents decided to head straight home the next day. Instead, my mother wrote to the attorney general in Regina, cut off the bloodied portion of my pant leg and sent it along with her letter.

I remember my parents received a response advising them the incident would be added to the police officer’s file. That’s the last I heard of it.

In late fall of this year, I contacted the Saskatchewan attorney general’s office, requesting a copy of my mother’s 1972 letter. In early December, I received a response that the correspondence could not be located. Other avenues were suggested.

There were no nightmares, I remember, in relation to the incident. My thinking was that this overzealous law officer was an anomaly. Was he, though?

As a white woman, my experience does not compare to people of colour. I am not picked on or harassed by police continuously. At one time, as a youth, however, I was a more vulnerable individual…

Armande Bourgeois Martine is a correspondent for Crescentwood. Reach her at 1martine789@gmail.com