I’ll never forget the day the Nazis came to Northern Virginia. As commander of the police precinct that covered the location where their convention was held that year, it fell to me to uphold the rights of people who did not believe in equal rights. Over 200 guests attended the convention, held in a different city annually.
When the large hotel which was the venue began receiving threats from protestors who were planning to hold a rally of their own and possibly infiltrate and disrupt the convention, hotel security called law enforcement in a panic. As the ranking police official, I created an operations (ops) plan to deal with any potential violence.
We live in an amazing democratic republic. Flawed, yes, but so precious to me that I would lay down my life to defend the community I serve. Including those who criticize it.
The Nazis had a right to rant about White supremacy, and protestors had a right to hurl insults at them. My job was to keep them away from each other and make sure no one got hurt.
Throughout the two-day convention, I laid out specific instructions to event organizers, protest leaders, and hotel staff, meeting with each of them in turn to make sure they understood the ground rules. While doing that, I overheard a couple of speeches from the Nazi group. Most chilling to me was the way the audience cheered the hateful rhetoric.
A couple of generations ago, our nation went to war against the Nazis, who were responsible for the deaths of millions of people. During World War II, thousands of patriotic Americans enlisted to stop Adolf Hitler, who was laying waste to many countries. A scant few decades later I was watching Americans chant his name, wave his party’s banner, and support his deadly agenda. These people spoke in nostalgic terms about “the good old days” when men like their grandfathers were in charge. I couldn’t help but think that their long-deceased grandfathers would be heartsick if they knew their descendants were supporting Nazis—a force many of them had died or been wounded fighting. Their grandfathers would have been repulsed to see them waving a Nazi flag instead of (or beside) an American flag as if the two were equal. As if they were interchangeable.
In my capacity as the ranking law enforcement official present, I could not express my feelings, although the irony that I was a woman of color forced to make a place for racist and sexist speech was not lost on me. There were times when we had to hold what the police call a skirmish line to prevent protestors from attacking the attendees. Enraged that they couldn’t get into the conference, some of protestors turned their anger toward us shouting accusations that we were Nazi sympathizers.
As if.
Hands down, the most disturbing and surreal moment came during one of my meetings with the convention’s organizer. The demonstrators outside were getting rowdier, and tempers were at the boiling point as the conference neared its end. I needed to make an announcement to the attendees about the ground rules I had established for their departure. They would have to go through a gauntlet to leave the hotel, and the riot that had been brewing might very well spark at that moment.
Not trusting the group’s leader to convey my instructions properly, I told him I needed to address the audience directly. I would also be able to answer any questions and make everything perfectly clear.
The group’s leader walked up on stage and introduced me as “the next speaker.” I was furious as the audience applauded. Did they honestly believe a police captain was there in solidarity with them? Practically vibrating with pent up anger, I made my way to the lectern where the first words out of my mouth made it clear that I was not “the next speaker.” Instead, I was there to inform them about the law as it pertained to their coming and going to the hotel. I advised them there was a growing crowd outside and emotions were running high, and that I had plenty of officers in position and on standby ready to make sure no violence occurred.
Like me, my officers were prepared to be injured or worse to protect the rights of all parties involved, as well as innocent bystanders who just happened to be staying at the hotel that weekend. Officers who were Black, White, Latinx, Native American, Asian and Pacific Islander, Jewish, gay, bisexual, and straight (we did not have any transgender officers on the department at that time) defended people who chanted the name of a maniacal leader who would have had many of them put to death just for being who they were.
That was a tough day. Fortunately, it ended without a riot and, although some jostling occurred, no one was arrested, and no one was hurt. After it was over, I made sure to meet with my officers to assure them that although neither side was happy with our presence, we had done our job, and we had done it professionally. Our democracy is messy at times, and definitely imperfect, but it’s strong.
It still hurts when I see Americans who clearly didn’t pay attention in history class marching around with Nazi flags, goosestepping, and saluting each other with outstretched arms. Whenever I see these events on the news, I remember the day I was called upon to safeguard our Constitution and our liberties by defending the indefensible.
Have you ever found yourself in such a position?
