Drum Magazine Issue 5 | Page 74

DA505 main 72 26/7/05 7:49 pm Page 72 Drum: IN FOCUS “We were open game. We felt under siege, like an endangered species. I didn’t feel I could trust a policeman.” walked into the hospital’s waiting room. Logan looks into the far off distance as he remembers his father’s beating at the hands of two corrupt London officers. A disagreement about where the then 21-year old Logan’s father was parking his long-distance lorry, resulted in his lying in the Whittington Hospital, “beaten black and blue”, after allegedly trying to resist arrest. Two months later Logan joined the police force. Whilst physical retribution raged in his mind, the young biology graduate and research technician sought the counsel of Gretel, his Nigerian/ Austrian fiancée (now wife). She advised him the best way to beat them was to join them. It took more than lateral thinking to explain to his father that his son was now joining the ‘racist cops’ who had beaten him up. Growing up in London in the 1970s and 80s, like thousands of black youths, the ‘sus’ laws cast a long, dark shadow over Logan’s everyday activities. Going down to his favourite record shop in Finsbury Park would mean a game of ‘hide and seek’ with the local bobby on the beat who had the right to lock up anyone who looked ‘suspicious’. The Police and Criminal Evidence Act of 1984 means that officers now have to have ‘reasonable’ grounds for stopping a member of the public, but for Leroy and other black youths, the situation encroached on their daily lives. “We were open game. We felt under siege, like an endangered species. I didn’t feel I could trust a policeman. Even though I was not doing anything wrong I still felt if I saw a policeman it was best not to draw any attention to myself. I would cross the road just to avoid them sometimes. As black youths we