On a bright day in Minneapolis last month, Officer Jamal Mitchell responded to his final call.
The body cam footage recently released showed Mitchell as he approached 35-year-old Mustafa Mohamed, who appeared to be wounded and had allegedly been involved in a violent incident involving two victims in a nearby apartment complex.
Mitchell quickly grabbed a pair of blue plastic gloves and prepared to help. He did not know Mohamed would soon brandish a weapon and begin to shoot, killing the 36-year-old father of four before Mohamed was also killed by responding officers.
“Squad 512,” Mitchell said before that moment. “It looks like we have at least two victims outside at the location, bleeding.”
Then he walked toward Mohamed. ·“Who shot ya?” Mitchell asked. “Who shot ya? Are there victims inside?”
I mourned Mitchell’s death. He was a young Black man with a family, a fiancée and a future. And by all accounts, his intentions were honorable. I don’t know how Black officers see themselves on a police force with the history that Minneapolis’ department possesses, but I can only assume it’s not possible to accept the job without an understanding of its detrimental legacy throughout the Twin Cities.
Mitchell, according to those who knew him, left his hometown of New Haven, Conn., to make an impact in Minneapolis with a full understanding of the department’s challenging relationship with the community it serves.
When I first saw his picture after he was killed, he looked familiar. I don’t know if I ever met him, but perhaps we’d crossed paths at a Vikings game, where he worked security, or maybe at a barber shop nearby or elsewhere in the Twin Cities. At his funeral in New Haven, his colleagues, friends and family members said Mitchell intended to do his job as a community member who recognized the challenges within his profession.