Without Feathers

Enough has been said and written about the Gates/Crowley affair.  I just want to get one more word in.  Two words, really: Exigent Circumstances.  Most Americans mistakenly believe that the police cannot enter your home without a warrant.  That isn’t true.  The police can enter your home anytime they want if they believe exigent circumstances (aka probably cause) justifies it.  The only real problem police have with entering a home without a warrant is the admissibility of evidence obtained without a warrant.

So what does this have to do with Sgt. Crowley entering Professor Gates’ home?  What possible “exigent circumstances” could Crowley have had to enter without a warrant?  Listen to this recording.  It is the Cambridge Police Department dispatcher talking to Sgt. Crowley (who, by the way, never spoke to the 911 operator)

The most significant piece of information relayed to Sgt Crowley is near the beginning of the recording when he asks where the suspects are.  The dispatcher tells him: “Both [suspects] are still in the house.”  Just to be clear, the dispatcher tells Crowley: “Both [suspects] are still in the house.”

Exigent circumstances — black and white.  Crowley approached the front door of 17 Ware St. in the belief — later proved to be mistaken — that two “larger men” (according Lucien Whalen on the 911 recording) were in the house at 17 Ware St.  Had Sgt Crowley simply walked away from the front door when Professor Gates commenced his tirade, he (Crowley) would have been guilty of gross dereliction of duty — and probably worse had the police dispatcher later proved to be correct.

Sgt. Crowley wasn’t just doing his job on that humid July afternoon up in Cambridge town, he was — to the best of his knowledge — putting himself in harms way to protect the lawful resident of that home, because — it cannot be said enough — when he climbed the stairs to the front door of 17 Ware St., he believed that: “Both [suspects] [were] still in the house.”

You want to speculate on Crowley’s white anger and suppressed working class rage over finding this uppity negro the master of such a fine house?  No need to speculate on Crowley’s state of mind, because there is a recording of the police dispatcher telling him that he and the lawful resident of the house were probably in danger.

We also don’t have to speculate on what was on Professor Gates’ mind.  He was quite candid about it in an interview for the Daily Beast (.com) a few days later:

My house. I mean, he was there investigating? He should have gotten out of there and said, “I’m sorry, sir, good luck. Loved your PBS series—check with you later!”

Apparently the professor was miffed that proletarian Crowley failed to recognize his eminence as a PBS auteur.

I’ll let the erudite Professor Gates have the last word here.  I was a little confused at first by this clip.  For a moment I thought it might be an excerpt from an old episode of “Good Times.”  You’ll understand why towards the end.  This is well worth listening to the end, especially the last minute or so. (Say what Skip about “yo’ mama?”)

I had every intention of avoiding the Lewis “Scooter” Libby sentence commutation altogether, expecting that the story would just go away after a few days because, really, the President has the constitutional privilege of commuting any sentence he wants, anytime he wants, for any reason he wants.

It’s no surprise, I guess, that of all the commutations of all the presidents in the history of the United States, this one has the distinction of being the most intolerable ever.  The Liberal pundacrocy is certain beyond doubt that this exercise of executive clemency is irrefutable evidence of impeachable corruption and reason enough to remove the President from office.

I’m no particular fan of Lewis Libby, or for that matter, his boss Vice President Richard Cheney.  I agree that the revelation of Valerie Plame’s name to Robert Novak and other journalists at least warranted an investigation, and that Libby was duty bound to cooperate in that investigation.  I also believe that Patrick Fitzgerald proved his case that Isidore Lewis Libby deliberately obstructed his investigation and was justly found guilty of the crime.  I would have preferred to see Libby serve some time for the crime.

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Durham North Carolina District Attorney Michael Nifong has lost his job and his law license. He deserved this fate. And he deserves the multi-million dollar lawsuits against him already in the works for his vile attempt to buy votes by railroading three innocent Duke Univeristy Lacrosse players. So why can’t I bring myself to be joyous at this deliverance of justice?

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When I heard the news about a young African-American woman being raped by three Duke Lacrosse players at a drunken frat party, my first thought was that these knuckleheads had not only thrown away a posh future, they were on their way to some serious legal retribution. I spared just a moment of sympathy for the three sons of privilege who were soon to spend most of the rest of their lives incarcerated in a hell they could hardly imagine.

As the story progressed and I learned more about Reade Seligman, Collin Finnerty and David Evans my sympathy declined. They looked like just the kind of upper crust snots that I’ve learned to despise instinctively.

Shame on me.

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