NetGalley ARC | Taking Down Backpage: Fighting the World's Largest Sex Trafficker

I received a free digital copy from NYU Press via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

Rating ⭐⭐⭐⭐

After reading this one, I have been seriously pondering going to law school. I want to do the work the Krell is doing, to take down the monsters who profit from the trauma and assault of others. It is absolutely disgusting and I would gladly hunt down every last one and bring them to justice.

Unfortunately, as illustrated in this book, it is all too easy for said monsters to continue profiting from sex trafficking in the digital age.

Prior to this book, I do not recall ever hearing about Backpage except in a few other books I have read that cover the subjects of commercial sex workers who used the site and Craig's List to find clients. Perhaps I have simply been existing in my own little bubble, though I am not sure how I have missed such an incredibly important subject, but I am so glad to have read this book.

As it turns out, Backpage.com was at one time the world's largest sex trafficker. Untold numbers of victims were bought and sold on the site for ten years, forced into dangerous and violent situations where they were raped, sometimes multiple times, sometimes by multiple people. While we often think of young women and girls as the most common victims, it is important to note that transgender youth, and younger boys were bought and sold as well. Repeatedly. The site's reach was world-wide and operated in 800 cities internationally. The owners of the site could feign ignorance of what was happening, because they claimed to not be responsible for the content that others created to post on their site. Luckily some sleuthing found that the employees of Backpage were, in fact, creating content from the ads posted to Backpage. The content they created was posted to their shell sites in order to drive more business to Backpage.

I suppose if you are a disgusting excuse for a human being, it would be easy to sleep at night claiming this ignorance as you grew richer and richer by the day.

Enter Maggy Krell, and your days as such are numbered.

I could not put this book down. I became so invested in the stories of the young women and girls who had been trafficked at various times, and worried so much for them as they worked through their trauma and had to decide whether or not they could relieve it all again at trial. My heart broke for those, especially the girls as young as 12, who Krell was never able to find, despite the fact that their photos were still being used in ads on the website.

Krell writes like an attorney because that is who she is, yet the narrative was not bogged down by legal terms and boring procedure. In fact, the procedures were anything but boring, because I wanted to know what would happen and how the owners of Backpage, as well as the stree-level pimps, would finally face their day of reckoning. I had to stop myself from Googling the owners' names so many times just to know what would happen.

One aspect of the case that I found interesting is the fact that for so long, the FBI knew exactly what was happening. Ads would be found on the site for girls and boys under 18 and the FBI would request those ads be removed. Backpage was all too eager to assist in this way, to try and show how cooperative they were. What a fucking joke.

I found fascinating the legal workings of such a massive case like this, and one so delicate. The amount of coordination that had to occur among various agencies in different states is staggering and that it all went off without a hitch was something I honestly was not sure would happen.

I appreciate the fact that Krell does not shy away from any of the horror and trauma inflicted on those who were trafficked multiple times per day. I think we all agree that human trafficker in general and sex trafficking in particular are heinous crimes that we must put an end to. However, when it does not directly impact your life, the way to help can seem rather abstract. Personally for Eleanor and I, we live practically smack-dab in the middle of the US, at the convergence of two major interstates that run across the country. We are a major hub for human-trafficking and it is especially bad during the College World Series each year. I do not take Eleanor anywhere near downtown for those couple of weeks specifically for this reason. There have been so many arrests in recent years and that gives me hope that this is something we can defeat, but the realist in me knows that it is simply not possible.

Shutting down Backpage was a massive moment in this fight, but it is certainly not the only one. Sex traffickers have simply moved elsewhere online and we must continue to pursue them as Krell and her team did in order to bring the perps to justice and help victims and survivor get out and start to heal.

Highly highly highly recommended.

#BlackLivesMatter | Say His Name #GeorgeFloyd #JamesScurlock

I have been largely silent over the last week, but not for lack of anything to say. Blogging has felt so trivial and unimportant that despite a huge backlog of reviews I am trying to get done, I don't care right now.

One of my most recent posts referred to the horrific murder of George Floyd by a former Minneapolis police officer. That this happens at all is devastating and must end. That it happened in my home city, a place I love so much, made it that much worse because I can't be home right now to march and protest and demand justice for this man.

However, I could protest here in Omaha, and that is exactly what I did on Saturday night, May 30th. I had spent much of Friday the 29th after Eleanor went to bed watching livestreams of the protests, officers firing tear gas and rubber bullets at peaceful protesters, and not-so-peaceful protesters. I watched people commenting, asking why people couldn't be more peaceful, pretending they would acknowledge the pain and trauma, if only the protesters would be "nicer" (read: quieter). Well guess what? People have already tried to protest peacefully for YEARS and it wasn't the "right" (read: white) way, so everyone complained about that, too.

But Saturday night I decided I could not spend another night watching someone else's livestream.

I went down to the busiest intersection in the entire city of Omaha (which makes it the busiest intersection in the state) with my little sign and stood there for nearly three hours with fellow protesters. I listened to chants of "Say his name/George Floyd", over and over and over again.

"Hands up, don't shoot."

"No justice, no peace."

I watched a man venting his anger using only his words, furious over the injustices we were protesting, only to see one of the four officer from the parked car he was yelling at flip on the lights and get out. I watched three officers wrestle this man to the ground, slamming him to the pavement. I watched three additional officers pile on before the man was handcuffed and dragged to a waiting van.

That's when the water bottles came flying, not from the protesters lining the streets but a smaller group up the slope who had gathered in the Target parking lot behind them. I watched the protesters turn and scream at them over and over to stop throwing things at the city police and state troopers. Then came the flash bangs, tear gas, and rubber bullets.

I watched a line of officers eventually move at the crowd, pushing those same protesters into the smaller group of agitators - literally pushing them, some falling to the ground as they lost their balance. Still the officers pushed forward, mixing the groups together, continuing to fire tear gas.

A friend texted to ask if I was safe, saying that it was being reported that people were throwing rocks and bricks at the police. I was across the street in a smaller group of protesters, but with an ample view of the largest group, those who were suddenly being corralled into the lot. I saw no rocks or bricks thrown the entire time. Water bottles, yes, most flying without even their lids. Still, no rocks. No bricks.

Then on the opposite corner from that main body, we were pushed to the parking lot behind us from the sidewalks, a place we were legally allowed to stand.

More and more tear gas was fired. An officer fired off several rubber bullets within ten feet of me. I did not see what caused him to fire, but saw a young woman put into handcuffs, sobbing, taken away to another waiting van.

More tear gas. Officers across the street continued pushing the crowd in that Target parking lot back, pushing and pushing in a line until they had all moved out of sight down the slope on the other side. After that, all we could see to know anyone was there were the clouds of tear gas still rising.

Two blocks north of the intersection a crowd assembled who had escaped the tear gas, some protesters breaking off from the group I was in. More tear gas. So much tear gas, you could no longer see the Wal-Greens sign, nor the road in front of it. So much tear gas it looked like a heavy, dense fog. So many more rubber bullets fired.

Around 8:30 a patrol car began announcing that this protest was now considered an unlawful assembly and we needed to leave, or further action would be taken.

More tear gas. More rubber bullets.

The corner where the main body of protesters had been completely cleared once the officers had corralled them up beyond our line of sight. Many had run across the street and tried to re-assemble, but continued to be fired on. That second corner was then cleared of protesters.

As the big trucks came out, we were told that if we did not leave immediately we would be arrested. The officers had moved counter clockwise around the intersection to clear them. Mine would be last. I watched officers moved in a line toward the third corner, the announcement repeating over and over that we must leave, or we would be arrested. I watched this group of protesters holding their ground. Not throwing anything. Not even yelling or chanting anything. Standing there, as was their right. Holding their signs, exercising their right to protest the injustices that seem to have no end in sight. These protesters were then shot at with rubber bullets and tear-gassed just as all the others had been.

I finally had to leave as the announcement continued, as the clouds of tear gas began drifting over myself and those with me on the final corner of the intersection that had not yet been cleared.

I finally made it back to my car and headed home, wondering what the rest of the evening would bring. I heard rumors as I walked to my car that protesters were gathering downtown in the Old Market.

It was less than three hours after the police had broken up the protest at 72nd and Dodge, that a young Black man named James Scurlock was shot and killed in the Old Market by a white bar owner named Jake Gardner. There is security camera footage and cell phone video. There is footage of James Scurlock being shot, yet Gardner was never arrested and was released the next day. There are many things to know about Gardner, such as that he is an unfortunately well-connected scumbag who is racist, homophobic, and transphobic. The gun he carried and threatened the group with, his permit is expired. Business owners were explicitly told to NOT go to their businesses, or "defend" them. Gardner at one point fired two "warning shots" - this is illegal, point blank. Yet Gardner, a former Marine, posted on Facebook just a few hours earlier that he was going to be on a "military style firewatch" at his bar that night. There are some conflicting reports, reports of racial slurs being used against James Scurlock and those with him, reports of police refusing to take witness statements, all kinds of things going on.

County prosecutor Don Kleine (a friend of Gardner's) held a press conference on Monday afternoon at 1:30 to make a statement about the death of James Scurlock and status of Jake Gardner. It is interesting to note that I received an email from my property manager early in the day stating that all employees would be leaving at 1 PM to ensure their safety. Businesses all over the city were closing by 1. Our fave museum was evacuated at 12:30.

As you can probably guess, the press conferences was a load of bullshit - and doesn't that tell you that you've probably made a mistake, when you have to shut down an entire city because you know people will be in the streets, louder and angrier than ever before? As expected, only certain parts of videos from Saturday night were shown. The necessary audio was mysteriously not played to accompany the videos. Kleine himself gave a running commentary, which to me amounts to already tainting the potential jury pool. In so many words, he basically blamed James Scurlock for his own death. AND also could not even be bothered to remember the victim's name and kept referring to him as 'Spurlock', even AFTER being corrected.

So, where are we today?

As of this time, the three additional officers who did NOTHING to help George Floyd as he was murdered were arrested and charged with aiding and abetting second-degree murder, and aiding and abetting second-degree manslaughter by Minnesota Attorney General Keith Ellison. Ellison also upgraded the charge against Floyd's murderer from third-degree murder to second-degree murder and second-degree manslaughter.

Protests have been going on here since last Friday the 29th. When it was announced there would be no charges filed against Gardner for the murder of James Scurlock, a 72 hour state of emergency was declared and an 8 PM curfew imposed. Once Kleine realized people were not going to accept his bullshit explanations, he finally agreed to put a special prosecutor in charge of the case and call a grand jury. How hard would it have been to have done that on Monday? Not hard at all.

A couple friends and I attended a smaller protest downtown this morning. One of the friends brought her children, who are very close to Eleanor and have all known each other for most of their young lives; her daughter and Eleanor are best friends. This protest is personal for their family as well. My friend's husband is a Black man, and their children have heard their conversations, been asking questions, and are trying to understand the world right now. Eleanor has told me so many times that she doesn't understand why someone would not like anyone just because of the color of their skin, and that her BFF's skin is beautiful. It is heartbreaking to hear these words because it is not fair that this hatred is something we have yet to eradicate, but was also very powerful because it was once again a reminder that no one is born with hate. It is taught.

I don't know what will happen with either of these cases, or the untold number in existence. I don't know if George Floyd's family will get justice, or James Scurlock's, or Breonna Taylor's or Ahmaud Arbery's.

I do know we will not be silent. We will protest. We will march. We will demand change.

No justice, no peace.

#BlackLivesMatter | Say His Name #GeorgeFloyd

I have debated whether or not to post something about the murder of yet another Black man by an officer who should have had his badge taken away long ago, who never should have been an officer in the first place.

My head hurts, and my heart hurts. This man did nothing to deserve to be murdered, to have his life slowly extinguished as he begged for breath, for his mother, and the witnessed pleaded for this murderer to stop.

I can't quite put into words what I am thinking and feeling right now. I have tried many many times. But, I do know this:

If you are more concerned about property damage than an innocent man being murdered by an asshole with a badge in broad daylight on video for the whole world to see, and then when the murderer is FINALLY arrested a couple days later the charge is a laughable 3rd degree because this was NOT an accident, then fuck you.

You are part of the problem.

NetGalley ARC | Hunting the Unabomber: The FBI, Ted Kaczynski, and the Capture of America's Most Notorious Domestic Terrorist

I received a free digital ARC from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

Rating ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

This is a highly engaging account of the search spanning nearly two decades, the longest manhunt in US history, to find Ted Kaczynski. I previously read the book written by Kaczynski's young brother, which I still have to review, and I found them to be necessary I realized, once I had finished this one. I recommend reading both to get a fuller picture of the man who would go on to terrorize the country, only to fade into the background while he further perfected his weapon of choice, then to launch more attacks that killed and wounded so many innocent people. While I do not want this to turn into a review of both books, as my focus here is obviously this ARC, I feel like the account written by David Kaczynski is just as important because we learn so much about their childhood and youth. Those aspects of the story matter.

For those unfamiliar with the case, perhaps because you are too young to remember, or you reside outside of the US, I will quickly recap Kaczynski's crimes. In the late 70s the Unabomber, as the media began calling him (from the FBI name UNABOM, because he was sending BOMbs to UNiversities and Airlines) began sending bombs to random recipients. These arrived both by mail and hand-delivery from the bomber himself. Eventually a task force was created, which would go on to include 150 people working the case, chasing down every possible lead in the hopes of finding the person responsible. The difference between Kaczynski and so many other domestic terrorists is that for the most part he was nearly silent for much of the time that he was sending his devices to his victims. No demands, no wish to speak to authorities. Simply, destruction. It was not until 1995 when Kaczynski penned his 'manifesto' and sent it to various news outlets, insisting it be published, otherwise his spree would continue. More tips than ever came in once the document was published in full, but the big break in the case would not come from an anonymous tipster. Instead, Kaczynski's sister-in-law read it in the paper and showed her husband, David. They went back and forth over whether or not Ted was capable of something so terrible and finally decided to go to the authorities. Within the year the Unabomber would be in custody and his reign of terror over. He eventually pleaded guilty in exchange for a life sentence without the possibility of parole and will live the remainder of his life behind bars.

I could not put this book down. I have vague memories of hearing about the Unabomber on the news, and I recall being frightened by the police sketch, I think in part because he looked so normal and could have been any average Joe walking down the street. I was 13 when he was finally apprehended and remember hearing about it, but again only vaguely. My memories are much clearer in regards to events like Waco (1993) and Oklahoma City (1995). I think part of the reason is because Kaczynski operated for so long, with sometimes a few years between bombings, that he was not always front page news. The opposite is true for Waco and OKC; I remember watching footage of the Waco siege day after day, wondering what it all meant and when it would end. And then came the Oklahoma City bombing. I will never forget watching as a twelve year old, the bodies of all those children, all those babies, carried from the wreckage, grown men and women weeping at the sight of the destruction.

Through this thoroughly-researched work then was I able to understand as a adult what I did not as a child: this guy was really fucking dangerous. And he was really, really good at what he did, hence why it took so long to capture him. Kaczynski made everything himself, and what he couldn't make (like batteries) he removed all possible traces of any information that could signal where it was purchased, what factory it was made in, etc. There were no finger prints, no identifying marks of any kind, and he was brilliant enough to be able to create a complex bomb that could handle being tossed about by US mail on its way to its destination, going off when and only when he intended it to. And when I say brilliant, I do mean brilliant. Kaczynski is a certifiable genius, having finished high school at the age of 16 and enrolling in Harvard where he earned his Bachelor's Degree. From there he went on to the University of Michigan for both a Master's and a PhD. He taught at UC-Berkeley until 1969, when he abruptly quit and went off to live in his cabin in Montana. There he would begin his journey, perfecting his bombs as they became more and more complex. Kaczynksi is a math prodigy, a true wunderkind, and there are a few theories as to how he evolved into a terrorist.

As for the writing itself, there was some repetitiveness to the author's words that was bothersome, but not enough to lose a star over. For the most part I do not like when authors insert themselves in the story and here and there this was the case as she referenced her father's work, her time as a prosecutor, etc. I understand this was probably an attempt to provide her own credentials of sorts as to why she should be writing this particular book, but I found it unnecessary. She is an excellent writer and that alone qualifies her, without all the extra. One last thing that bothered me was the sections relating to Comey and Clinton's emails in the epilogue. I understand again that this was kind of a summary of the FBI since the Unabomber's capture, but it was still not needed. While the author is correct in what she said, that it was not Comey's place as the head of the FBI to do as he did in those weeks leading up to the election, it felt very out of place in the book.

Even so, there were many things the author did right. The amount of research and locating of primary sources must have taken an extraordinary amount of work. There were also many interviews with key members of the task force who put their blood, sweat, and tears into this case. As the years went on, getting assigned to UNABOM was seen as the place where careers went to die. Thank goodness for the many men and women who worked tirelessly to track down every lead, and find any scrap of evidence they could. Their effort may not have yielded the information needed to finally identify him, but they never gave up, even when it would have been easy to do so.

Highly recommended.

NetGalley ARC | The Kidnap Years: The Astonishing True History of the Forgotten Kidnapping Epidemic that Shook Depression-Era America

I received a free digital ARC from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

Rating ⭐⭐⭐⭐

I would have given this five stars if there were not so many damned exclamation points.

Naturally when one thinks of kidnappings in the 1930s, the first case that almost always comes to mind is that of Charles Lindbergh's twenty-month- old son, Charles Jr. That case is discussed extensively throughout the book, while other less high-profile cases are also given equal footing.

One thing I really appreciated about this book is that it was more or less chronological, and did not tell each kidnapping story individually. As the author moved through the decade when his epidemic was at an all-time high, we see which cases overlapped, and sometimes had to wait several sections for any kind of resolution. I personally liked this, as it was as realistic as one can get without having actually lived through it.

There is such a blend of themes here and they are woven together well. The Great Depression is in full swing and families are struggling to simply survive. Prohibition was coming to an end, so those who made their living that way were seeing income dry up as quickly as the country was supposed to when the law went into effect in 1920. On top of that the likes of Dillinger, the Barkers, and so many others were terrorizing the country, sometimes opposed by police and sometimes assisted. The constant message though, was one of desperation and despair that drove so many to attempt or carry out these crimes.

While it would be impossible to recount every single case, there are enough discussed here to really give the reader a feel for what it felt like to live through such a time. Most of the time the victims or survivors were held for ransom. Some were lucky enough to see their families again, though they were scarred for life from the experience. Others were not, and only in death were reunited with loved ones.

I found it especially difficult to read about the children who were kidnapped for far more nefarious reasons than ransom. The story of Grace Budd was absolutely heartbreaking and I feel so terribly for her parents and siblings. It is a horrific case and one I would rather not dwell on much here or I will probably start crying again, just thinking of the anguish her parents felt and the blame they put on themselves for believing the lies they were told and allowing their beloved daughter to go to the birthday party for a man's niece, the man whom they had only recently met.

As one would expect, we see ol' Hoover trying to insert himself into any investigation he could. Even when, and maybe especially because, his agency often came under fire for being incompetent and out of control. He wanted to be seen at apprehensions and discoveries in order to portray himself as the one who was cleverly solving these crimes and in full control, that the newspaper reports were wrong.

I found it especially interesting to read of how many families contacted police to inform them of the kidnappings, but also asked they stand down while the family also contacted those who might, shall we say, have connection to the world in which the kidnappers moved in. More than one case detailed in this book was solved this way and it should not have surprised me. After all, many wealthy families had some underworld contacts for a variety of reasons, and sometimes those contacts were able to make far more progress than law enforcement. One must also not overlook the corruption that permeated some police forces, so many were right to not trust those supposedly sworn to protect them.

The plethora of exclamation points aside, the author does a fantastic job transporting the reader back to this turbulent period where no one was truly safe from the epidemic, whether rich or poor - it merely depended upon the perp's purpose for the kidnapping. Most were for ransom, and more were returned to their families than not - here, at least. I can't speak for the statistics overall, but from the cases presented in the book only.

Any reader interested in this period will find value in this book. I hesitate to use the word 'enjoy' because how does one enjoy a story about kidnapping and murder. I think, however, everyone gets the point. Highly recommended.

Book Review A Good Month for Murder: The Inside Story of a Homicide Squad

Rating: 2 Stars

I really ended up not liking this one much at all and I can't decide if that's because of the subjects or the author. This book could have and should have been much better.

I think the author is at least partly to blame; he is the book's creator after all. I was hoping for some kind of dissection of why this particular place in that particular time saw such a run of murders. But nothing here even attempts to explain how and/or why. Sure, we get demographic break-downs of the area, but that's about it. Without any discussion of that type, this simply becomes a voyeuristic look at life with a homicide squad. The writing was far too cavalier in some places, and that did not sit well with me either. Regardless of who the victims are, there has to be some kind of acknowledgment that while they might have been less savory characters in life, they are still human in death.

I do not think it is accurate to call this one true crime. It is much more about the detectives than the victims and suspects. Maybe we could call it 'true crime adjacent'. We meet so many detectives that, even though we are given the lists of who belongs to which squad, it is difficult to keep them all straight. After a while I honestly just started glossing over the detectives' names because they all ran together, nothing really distinguished one from another, unless it was a rookie detective on his first big case.

Definitely one from the library, if you choose to read it at all.

A Higher Loyalty: Truth, Lies, and Leadership

Rating: 4 Stars.

FYI, this is not really a review, it is a short rant because I am just TIRED of it all. I have the luxury of choice when it comes to whether I pay attention to politics or not because my race and socio-economic status allow me said luxury. Yet I know that I MUST pay attention and #Resist, and do all I can for those who do not have a voice. I am especially fired up today because of everything that has gone down so far.

When I heard Comey on NPR talking about his book, and he had the audacity to say, when asked about whether or not his memo impacted the outcome of the election, "I hope not"...BOY, BYE! Regardless of his own perception, he HAD to know how the memo releases would be perceived by the public at large. Come on bruh, you KNOW they did, no matter what the FBI's intentions were. Even so, I must begrudgingly say that Comey did the best he could with what he had to work with. I couldn't stand either candidate, but at least I knew that Clinton would not complete tear our country to shreds. She didn't "deserve" to be the nominee, it wasn't "her turn" after "letting" Obama go first. Comey certainly gives his well-thought-out argument for why he did what he did, and when, but it does not make it any easier to handle. I am to the point that I can not even see that douchebag's face anymore without wanting to vomit. His voice grates on my ears. And today, as he is once again propelling us toward a scary future with Mattis resigning, no plan to stop a government shutdown (because of a stupid fucking wall that isn't even going to work), and him insisting that pulling out of Syria is a great idea (great of course, for Russia. And ISIS), we once again see why that 25th Amendment is a pretty good idea.

But I digress. That was a tangent that has nothing reeeeeally to do with the book, except that I abhor trumplethinskin and look forward to the day when his ugly face is out of the White House for good and we can get this ship righted.

There are some interesting stories I had not yet heard before, and Comey is actually a good writer, even if it is a little - I don't want to say pompous, because that is not quite right, almost like he is trying to be too humble and it comes off as not humble at all, does that even make sense? - sometimes.

A few quotes I thought were #OnPoint:

"I did not know Priebus well. He often seemed both confused and irritated, and it was not hard to imagine why. Running the (trumplethinskin) White House would be a difficult job for even an experienced manager, which Priebus wasn't" (page 246).

"(trumplethinskin)'s presidency threatens much of what is good in this nation. We all bear responsibility for the deeply flawed choices" (not me, I caucused for Bernie) "put before voters during the 2016 election, and our country is paying a high price: this president is unethical, and untethered to truth and institutional values...His leadership is transactional, ego driven, and about personal loyalty. We are fortunate some ethical leaders have chosen to serve and to stay at senior levels of government, but they cannot prevent all of the damage from the forest fire that is the (trumplethinskin) presidency. Their task is to try to contain it" (page 275).

Except, there is no containing it now. We are literally going headfirst into a complete clusterfuck and no one seems to know how to stop it - and the GOP doesn't care to, so...

No Justice: One White Police Officer, One Black Family, and How One Bullet Ripped Us Apart

I received a digital copy of this book for free from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

Rating: 5 Stars

This was a tough one for me to read, for many reasons - similar to those I discussed in a previous review of the book The Day Sonny Died. In fact, I finished both of these books within a day or so of one another and was not eager to review them because they were truly draining. They were exhausting because it was so easy for me to see one of my students in the place of either young man, fictional or flesh and blood. While the young men in each story had a very different journey in how they came to be where they were, both are still situations any of my babies might find themselves in later in life. As a special education teacher in a behavior skills classroom, the majority of my students are young black males (grades 3-5). This over-identification of young black males in special education is a whole other issue that is as exhausting to deal with as the topics for either of these books. But I know I can not give up and can not let that exhaustion get to me because when put simply, their lives depend on it.

The gross miscarriage of justice in Tolan's story should infuriate everyone. Unfortunately, it won't and until something changes, incidents like this will keep happening. The shooting of unarmed black men by police officers has to end. I am not here for or interested in any "But what about..." arguments. This is an issue in our country. It is by no means the only issue we face today, but it is of great significance and the subject of the book.

Robbie Tolan nearly died in his own driveway, accused of stealing his own car. Just let that sink in for a moment.

In the early morning hours on New Year's, Robbie and his cousin had returned to Robbie's home where an officer approached the two young men, accusing Tolan of stealing the car he had driven. This ended up being a mistake on the officer's end, having mistyped the license plate number. Yet there was no double confirmation of the plate. The second officer to come on the scene did not help, and in the confusion and chaos of Tolan's parents coming out of the house to see what was going on, being told to get back, one officer roughly pushing Tolan's mother, Tolan reacted with angry words and apparently the officer feared for his life because Tolan received a bullet in his chest for trying to defend his mother.

Grim reminders that this is not the first time a scene like this has played out in America are scattered throughout the book. Before each chapter, Tolan recounts previous cases where both boys and men were not as lucky as he - though it sounds weird describing someone being shot as lucky. Yet I think Tolan recognizes that he was. He could have died just as countless others have before him. Even so, living was just as hard. Not only did the family fight for ten years to get any kind of justice, but the physical, mental, and emotional damage was at times overwhelming for everyone.

"I was able to make sure to keep any impulse responses, you know, like being the stereotype of the angry black man, out of the public eye, and my frustrations were only meted out in privacy" (34%).

This quote stuck out for me especially; he shouldn't have to not be angry. He was unjustly shot by a police officer, FFS. Yet, he's not allowed to be angry in public because he is black, and that would in turn impact the public image of him and potentially harm his case. How is that even fair? Tolan is allowed to be angry, without it framing his story in a negative way.

I do not recall hearing about this case, but I am glad that I was able to read about Tolan's journey and how he has slowly but surely put his life back together. What he and his family had to go through during the entire ordeal is beyond words. This should not be the experience of any citizen in our country, period.

Blue on Blue: An Insider's Story of Good Cops Catching Bad Cops

Rating: 4 Stars

This book interested me for a couple reasons. One, I am utterly obsessed with New York City. Two, Law and Order: SVU is one of my favorite shows ever. And three, most importantly, I am deeply troubled about this growing divided between police officers and the public that seems to have been split wide open in the wake of the deaths of so many unarmed civilians, many of whom are young African American males.

The book is not perfect. In general it is fairly conversational and I liked that. It felt like I was sitting around with my grandpa and he was telling me stories about his childhood and this and that. Only it wasn't my grandpa, and the stories were about IAB catching nasty pieces of work who never should have been given the privilege of wearing an NYPD badge. But at times the writing feels a bit defensive about officer-involved shootings. I think most rational-minded people realize that the majority of police officers are honest, hardworking, good people who do their jobs with all the integrity with which they took their oath. The defensiveness was a by-product of trying to explain what it is like to be in a situation where you have a split-second to make what amounts to a life or death decision. I truly believe that the majority of the police officers in our country react the same way the author did, with thoughts of: Please don't make me shoot them, please don't make me shoot them, please don't make me shoot them. In the last few years, starting with the Michael Brown case in Ferguson, so many people have questions the idea of why an officer can't shoot to injure, instead of shoot to kill. The author explained that in the NYPD, the policy is 'shoot to stop'.

At the time of the author's retirement, only one other member of the NYPD had served as long or longer than him. He spent 20 years of his career with IAB, which makes for some fascinating and horrifying stories. It is hard to convince people to take a job that requires them to basically police the police, meaning some of their friends even. I can't imagine a more unenviable job but it is a necessary one, as this book proves time and again. It also amazes me that some of these officers could be so stupid as to think that they would get away with their crimes in the end. In fact, officers should always assume that when someone brings a shady plan to them, that it is really an Integrity Test. Unfortunately it won't, because there will always be bad cops, just like there are bad teachers, doctors, etc.

On a sort-of lighter note, Law and Order: SVU is one of my all-time favorite shows. I unfortunately had to stop watching it for two reasons: Elliot Stabler (Christopher Meloni, yum) left the force after season 12, and I had a baby which made it nearly impossible to watch a fictional show based on real crimes often committed against children. I could not handle it and cried buckets the first time I tried to watch the show as a new mom. And if you do not believe the tag line of 'ripped from the headlines', it is 100% true. The author recounted a tale of a suspect being arrested and beaten up by the four officers during transport to the precinct, where upon arrival two of the officers took him into a bathroom and one held him down while the other shoved the end of either a broom or a plunger (I can't remember which) into the man's rectum. This happened on an episode of SVU, though the motive and crimes surrounding this part of the story were changed. With some of the stories the author recounted, it was hard to not see Benson and Stabler as detectives within the narrative, even though yes I know they are fictional. It was also interesting to think about how Stabler always reacted every time IAB was afoot as I was reading.

Overall this is a good read about what it is like from the inside, investigating the very people who have sworn to protect the public. It is by no means an easy job, or a fun one, but it is a necessary one.