- Originally published in the Chicago Tribune on November 25, 2004
Stories of police brutality have become part of local lore in the racially mixed city of Blue Island, shared among neighbors and recounted around dinner tables.
And those stories might have remained just that--undocumented tales quietly woven into the fabric of the town's history--if it wasn't for the recent death of a Mexican immigrant, Antonio Manrique.
Manrique, 74, was taken to the ground by a police officer Oct. 6, suffered numerous broken ribs and died four days later.
His family, in a lawsuit filed Nov. 18, said he died of internal bleeding and blood clots stemming from his injuries. They alleged that two Blue Island police officers beat him on his head and face and that he was covered in bruises.
Manrique's cause of death has not yet been determined by the medical examiner's office, but Hispanics in this hardscrabble community believe he died because of police brutality. It's a bell that has proven hard to un-ring and has helped fuel the anger between police and residents.
Blue Island, a working-class city 17 miles south of Chicago, has undergone a dramatic demographic transformation in recent decades. The city's Hispanic population, which has more than doubled in 20 years, has for the first time begun addressing in a unified voice a problem they say has been lurking beneath the surface for decades.
Tales of abuse may abound, but only a modest number of suits--about 20--were filed against the department from 1984 until this fall, according to court records. That all changed in October when, in one day, 12 lawsuits were filed in federal court against the city and various officers, all alleging some combination of brutality, harassment and excessive force. Three more suits alleging police misconduct were filed Wednesday.
The older suits contain complaints of excessive force, false arrest and imprisonment, illegal search and seizure, malicious prosecution and verbal harassment. Like the newer suits, they were filed by people of varying ethnic backgrounds. A majority were non-Hispanic.
The suits indicate tension between the department and the community but do not reflect the scope of the problem, residents say.
Hispanic residents who gathered by the hundreds at community forums said they felt too disenfranchised to pursue court battles. Facing a language barrier and what they call an unreceptive response from the city and its police department, they have largely left their complaints undocumented.
Some mistakenly thought they could not file a lawsuit because they were illegal immigrants.
Alicia Ramirez, a Blue Island resident and member of a local citizens group called CASA, or Citizens in Action Seeking Answers, said residents have since gained the confidence to speak out.
"Maybe right now they are voicing it because they realize they do have rights," she said.
Some have said they feared the cost of pursuing litigation. Others say they feared retaliation. "A lot of Hispanics are afraid to talk," said Teresa Hernandez, a community activist since the 1960s.
Mayor Donald Peloquin said it is hard to determine whether the lawsuits filed since the mid-'80s are an accurate reflection of uneasiness that may have been building here for decades. In office for 20 years, he said he has heard complaints about the department throughout his tenure, which is not surprising considering the difficult nature of its work.
"You always hear it," he said. "But the police are only called when there are problems. They're not called when things are good."
Dennis Rosenbaum, a professor of criminology at the University of Illinois at Chicago, said there is a long history of tension between police and minority communities across the country and while every town faces its own problems, some themes are universal.
One of the most prominent is perception, which is hard to change. Those who have a decidedly negative or positive view of the police will "selectively process information to support their belief," he said.
Those who believe police are abusive are more likely to say something during their interaction with officers that could be interpreted as hostile, provoking an equally argumentative response.
"Nobody is innocent here," Rosenbaum said. "It's complicated."
Hostility may be rooted in other factors as well, he said, such as the city's ethnicity, which among Hispanics is largely Mexican-American. They tend to come from a place where the police "are quite abusive," he said. Some may view the Blue Island department the same way, perpetuating animosity between the two.
As a result, an incident of police brutality, or a perceived incident, is often enough to bring that tension to the surface.
"It's like throwing a match on gasoline that's already spilled," he said.
A boisterous protest days after Manrique's death seems to support Rosenbaum's claims. Residents gathered by the hundreds outside City Hall on Oct. 12 with just a couple of days' notice in a meeting largely fueled by word of mouth and a last-minute announcement by a local Spanish radio station.
Some protesters gave impassioned speeches before the mayor, pleading for justice and change, while others stood outside jeering police, spitting in their direction and vandalizing their vehicles.
The number of protesters--at least 500--was a sign that something was wrong. But the root of their anger and solutions to their problems have been harder to find.
Some residents say the mayor is aloof and unapproachable, and the Police Department not representative of the community.
Peloquin said he has upgraded police training, yet the department has not made great strides in learning languages. Although 37 percent of the city is Hispanic, only a fraction of the officers speak Spanish, Chief Douglas E. Hoglund has said.
Hoglund, who could not be reached for comment, has said that officers can take a short Spanish language course, but it is not required.
Such issues were supposed to be fodder for meetings between police and community leaders, mediated by the Community Relations Service, a branch of the U.S. Department of Justice. But it was rebuffed in its efforts when CASA members voted against the Justice Department's involvement.
Rene Valenciano, CASA's temporary president, said his group was turned off when it learned the Justice Department would not enforce any agreement between the city and the community. CASA, formed in response to Manrique's death, wanted something with more teeth.
Valenciano said the group may call upon the Justice Department in the future, but only if its talks with city leaders fail. Peloquin said he welcomes mediation by federal officials.
Already CASA members have experienced problems going it alone. They canceled a Nov. 16 meeting because they weren't prepared and because other groups invited to sit in backed out for various reasons.
"We weren't ready," Valenciano said. "I was concerned that there wasn't enough representation from the community."
They planned to regroup with other community members on Nov. 29, but had not scheduled a sit-down meeting with the mayor or Police Department.
A spokesman from the Justice Department said it still is willing to help, although the new lawsuits may hinder face-to-face talks.
Copyright © 2004, Chicago Tribune