Cat Sewing Because Murder is Wrong Shirt
BUY THIS PRODUCTS FROM AMAZON.COM HERE
Cat Sewing Because Murder is Wrong Shirt
✅ Printed in the USA
✅ High-quality
✅ Order at amazon.com
Cat Sewing Because Murder is Wrong Shirt
An investigation published by Reuters in 2017 found that 1,005 people across the United States had died after police tased them. Most of the deaths had occurred since the early 2000s, and many of the victims were already in some psychological distress. Taser International (now Axon) revised its own training manuals in 2013 regarding the use of Tasers on people with mental health issues. The company said: “Drive-stun use may not be effective on emotionally disturbed persons or others who may not respond to pain due to a mind-body disconnect.” And since 2009, the company has cautioned against using Tasers on the chest. After Plymell’s death, a Taser prong was found lodged near his right nipple. During their investigation, Oregon State Police detectives spoke to several civilians who had either seen Plymell stranded on the side of the road or attempted to push his car for him. He was described as “erratic,” “acting like a tweaker,” and maybe “buzzed on dope.” One person said he repeated 15 times that the car “is light, it’s easy to push.” “The big picture question we should be asking is what kind of failures, what opportunities were there, to intervene in a different way earlier than could have prevented this guy from being in the disabled vehicle Cat Sewing Because Murder is Wrong Shirt
Stoughton said. In the months before his death, Plymell had lived in a recovery house called God Gear. Curtis Parke was a resident there at the same time, and only knew Plymell when he was clean and sober. “He’s a really pleasant, friendly guy,” he said. He had heard that Plymell’s car had broken down the night before he died, and that he ended up sleeping in the car at Battery X-Change, less than a mile from God Gear. “I often wonder why he didn’t reach out to any of us,” Parke said. “He was right there. We could have done something if he just reached out.” Later, when a detective scoured Plymell’s Nissan for evidence, it turned out it wasn’t completely out of gas, as he’d told police. One of the cables that connected the battery to the car was simply unplugged. Using records obtained from the Albany Police, I was able to look through the contents of Plymell’s cellphone. Just like anyone’s phone, it chronicles at least a part of Plymell’s life — the people he spent his time with, the ones he cared about and those who cared about him. In June 2019, he snapped photos of a cherry-red Mustang at a used car dealership; Ackroyd and Bourgeois said he bought it with an insurance settlement. (When Plymell died, there was a photograph of a check for $20,698.94 on his phone from Progressive insurance.) He got new tattoos: an eagle mid-flight, wrestling with a snake in its talons, across his forearm; his last name inked across his shoulders in script. There were appointments in his phone for court dates and doctors’ appointments. A photo of Ackroyd, smiling, in a red tank top.
One of a newly installed sound system in his Mustang, and one in the beat-up Nissan. Pictures of antique clocks and silver coins. Sunrises, sunsets. A selfie of Bourgeois and Plymell, grinning on a trip to the beach in Newport, where they walked along the Bayfront. He took other selfies, too: smiling in a driver’s seat of his Mustang; smiling in the forest; smiling as he reclined on a couch outside at God Gear, with the words “Jesus Saves” painted on the wall behind him. And there’s one more selfie, taken in the dark, early in the morning of Oct. 23, 2019. You can barely see him. It’s as if he’s fading, somehow, just a dark outline in the driver’s seat of his car. The following photos are a blur: The floor. The seat cushion. And then one more photograph, taken in the morning, out the window, the bright yellow walls of Battery X-Change coming into view as the sun came up one last time. This story was originally published at High Country News (hcn.Org) on March 1, 2021. Leah Sottile is a correspondent at High Country News. She writes from Portland, Oregon. Note to readers: if you purchase something through one of our affiliate links we may earn a commission.
Visit our Social Network: Pinterest, Blogger, and see more at our collection.
Nhận xét
Đăng nhận xét