Facing visions of violence

My daughter and I drove up the driveway of the Mercy Junction Justice and Peace Center to pick up my husband, Brian, from work. The Justice and Peace Center is housed in a beautifully dilapidated hundred-year-old Methodist Church, which closed. Now it’s full of artists, non-profit workers, musicians, activists and a new worshiping community in Chattanooga. Brian walked up to the car. Visibly shaken, he said, “Go home. I think I’m going to get arrested.” 

He had just had a confrontation with someone in the sheriff’s department who had been off-duty, working as a security guard for the mega-church across the street. The guard drove up in a cart, and Brian asked what was going on. The guard ignored Brian, driving his cart to the other side of the parking lot. Brian thought it was because they closed their parking, and some of the mega-church people would have to walk onto the other side of the building because they were using the lot. Brian repeated his question and the Sheriff answered, “I don’t have to tell you anything!”  Brian got nervous. He wasn’t worried about himself, but there had been a couple of African-American men who had been questioned without cause on their property.

The security guard yelled, “You are impeding an investigation. You will be arrested!” The security guard walked toward Brian and reached for his side, where a gun or taser would be. Brian asked for his name and badge number, but the guard refused and repeated that Brian would be arrested.