Elijah McClain, an unarmed black 23-year-old man accused of no crime, was roughed up and choked by police officers in 2019 then killed with a lethal dose of ketamine by paramedics. Though two of the three cops got away with it, jurors yesterday found the paramedics guilty of negligent homicide.
It also was the last of three trials against police and paramedics charged in the death of McClain, whom officers stopped following a suspicious person complaint. He was injected with the sedative after being forcibly restrained. The case received little attention until protests over the 2020 killing of George Floyd in Minneapolis.
An Aurora police officer was convicted of homicide and third degree assault earlier this year, while two other officers were acquitted.
Exonerative media coverage was a problem in this case. Even now, in the first sentence of their story, the AP's Colleen Slevin and Matthew Brown report this verdict not in terms of the dead man's life or a legal process that's far from over, but as something that may have a "chilling effect on first responders around the country"–as if delivering lethal doses of ketamine into pleading, unarmed, unthreatening people being roughed up by Colorado's most notoriously and abusively racist cops is not only what we expect of paramedics but a measure America needs kept hot and ready to keep it safe from men like Elijah McClain.
I can't breathe. I have my ID right here. My name is Elijah McClain. That's my house. I was just going home. I'm an introvert. I'm just different. That's all. I'm so sorry. I have no gun. I don't do that stuff. I don't do any fighting. Why are you attacking me? I don't even kill flies! I don't eat meat! But I don't judge people, I don't judge people who do eat meat. Forgive me. All I was trying to do was become better. I will do it. I will do anything. Sacrifice my identity, I'll do it. You all are phenomenal. You are beautiful and I love you. Try to forgive me. I'm a mood Gemini. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Ow, that really hurt! You are all very strong. Teamwork makes the dream work. [after vomiting] Oh, I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to do that. I just can't breathe correctly.
