13 Days in Ferguson

  “You made mine,” I say.

  This is what Ferguson has become to me. This is what Ferguson has taught me. This is what Ferguson has done for me. This is what Ferguson insists that we all need to do, every single one of us.

  We have to reach out.

  Talking. Listening. Hearing. Hugging. And understanding.

  We have to reach out to each other.

  I ask myself, “What are you reaching for?”

  I don’t know exactly.

  I look at my hands and see that they are empty.

  Even after going through those thirteen days in Ferguson—thirteen days of chaos and success and failure and pain and struggle, and then, finally, a semblance of calm—my hands are still empty.

  People ask me, “What will you do now?”

  I ask myself, What should I do now?

  What should we all do?

  We have to keep reaching.

  That’s what I know.

  That’s what I will do.

  I will keep reaching.

  We have to keep reaching—until our hands are no longer empty . . . until we can hold on to each other.

  [12] Matt Apuzzo, “Ferguson Police Routinely Violate Rights of Blacks, Justice Dept. Finds,” New York Times, March 3, 2015; www.nytimes.com/2015/03/04/us/justice-department-finds-pattern-of-police-bias-and-excessive-force-in-ferguson.html.

  [13] Ibid.

  [14] James Baldwin, “As Much Truth as One Can Bear,” New York Times Book Review, January 14, 1962, republished in The Cross of Redemption: Uncollected Writings, Randall Kenan, ed. (New York: Vintage International, 2011), 42.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  * * *

  RON

  First, I am grateful to Eric Rhone Sr., my agent and friend, for his insistence that I “step onto the path” of this journey.

  I also must thank Anthony Mattero for steering us to Tyndale Momentum, not just our publisher but also our home. I thank everyone there, in every capacity, with special gratitude to Carol Traver, who saw the value of my journey and continues to be our most enthusiastic supporter; Dave Lindstedt for his careful editing; and Dean Renninger for his beautiful and moving cover design.

  In many ways, our lives are shaped by the individuals we meet along the way. My initial relationship with my coauthor, Alan Eisenstock, could be defined as strictly business, with Alan very businesslike on the specifics of his craft, describing to me step-by-step the process of authoring a book. And then we began.

  Day 1: Alan and I are scheduled to start our journey together, but our conversation never leads us to step onto the path. Instead, we talk about our lives. More importantly, we talk about our faith—I’m a Baptist and Alan is Jewish. At the outset, we are two strangers of different faiths crossing paths. By the time we step onto the path together on Day 2, we are brothers on a journey that will eventually produce 13 Days in Ferguson.

  Alan, you have confirmed my belief that when individuals open themselves up to each other, they discover how much more alike they are than different. I have been privileged and blessed to have you help me step onto the path, providing strength during a deeply emotional journey.

  Lindsay Lyle Ripley, your courage and determination have touched my soul. I have learned from you that we must always keep running toward our dreams and never stop reaching. Your parents, James Paul Ripley and Mary Kathleen Kearney Ripley, and your sister, Claire Elizabeth Ripley, inspire me every day with their courage.

  Growing up, all a son wants is to walk with the same strength as his hero. When age and health slowed my hero’s walk, this son began to see the faith in the slow walk that allowed his hero to confront Alzheimer’s with courage. At times, it hurt unspeakably when my hero could not remember things about his son. But the son learned to see the grace in his hero while never forgetting his God. I am grateful to my father, Roscoe Johnson, for displaying strength and faith even when the path ahead was unknown.

  A mother of faith required her son to pray before bed and meals because she believed. The son did not always understand why, but he prayed anyway, because it was mandated. The mother continued to pray—and to expect the same of her son—even when he moved away. To my mom, Annie Johnson: How blessed I am for your mandating prayer into my life. Mom, throughout this journey, your daily prayers have comforted me, just as they did when I was a child kneeling in prayer before bedtime.

  Growing up with a sister and a brother, I would sometimes say words I didn’t mean, just to stop the teasing and squabbling. I sometimes feared that those words would break us apart, but they never did. To my sister, Regina: I am grateful for you. You are my biggest critic and staunchest ally. I could not have walked this path without you with me, my defender.

  Two brothers, sharing a room. The older brother wants his own space, his privacy, but the house is too small. In time, the younger brother begins to look up to his older brother, and the older brother begins to accept the living arrangement. Eventually, the older brother leaves home, and his dreams become filled with memories of that shared room. As the younger brother grows up, the older brother admires his strength, his character, and—most of all—his ability to know no strangers. In memory of my brother, Bernard: I am grateful that you taught me not to view other people as strangers but to embrace everyone we encounter as we journey through life.

  August 20, 1988: A man marries the love of his life, and two kids are born from that love. The man sees himself as a rock that the family stands on. He believes the rock will never crumble beneath his family. Any crack in the rock is hidden, masked. But the days and nights on the streets of Ferguson in August 2014 cause deeper cracks to emerge in the rock, and the rock can no longer hide them. No longer is he able to fight off a recurring thought: What will happen to my family?

  To my wife, Lori: I honor you for becoming the rock that I leaned on. In fact, you were the rock on which our entire family stood. You assured us all that crumbling was never an option. Thank you, Lori, forever.

  When a father’s daughter is born, he thanks God for blessing him with an angel. When the father endures some of the toughest days of his life, his angel sends him a Bible verse to encourage him. To my daughter, Amanda: Thank you for the Bible verse you sent me during this journey. It became the light that illumined my path.

  A mother holds a father’s son, and the father stares into the baby’s eyes with a glowing pride. The father has dreams of being a great father and having a certain, specific father-son relationship. As the years go by, life intrudes and things change and the father begins to see the relationship differently. He sees that this child will always be his son, but the son grows to be a man, too, and has his own mind and his own advice to give. The father remains the son’s biggest fan, continuing to provide support while always letting the son know how proud he is of him. Bradley, my son, I was honored when I realized that our father-son relationship had changed. You not only became a man but also became my best friend. When you sent me that touching text during the early days of the journey, I knew that no matter what, my best friend would always be there.

  A man’s father has passed away, but the man still yearns to hear that fatherly voice of support. One day, very early in the morning, he receives a call from his father-in-law—providing that fatherly voice, not as an obligation but as an expression of love. To my father-in-law and fellow brother in blue, Charles McCrary: I needed the wisdom from your call that day more than any other words we have shared during our cherished relationship.

  Every morning as the trooper leaves for work, he worries about who will check on his wife when he is unable to call her. Each night when he comes home, his wife tells him of her conversation with the lady who has called each day, like clockwork, while he is on his journey. To my mother-in-law, Jeanie McCrary: Thank you for being Lori’s guardian angel during this journey.

  To my spiritual leaders, extended family, mentors, friends, and everyone who has crossed my path in life, in Ferguson and throughout the country: Please know that the e
xperiences, lessons, prayers, hugs, and encouragement have all shaped and affected my steps along this journey. I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

  ALAN

  All books are, in some way, miracles. You never know how they will begin and how they will turn out—or, in some cases, whether they will turn into anything at all. Except this one. I never doubted that 13 Days in Ferguson would turn out the way it did. From the first moment when Ron and I spoke on the phone, I felt a spark that went beyond a mere connection. I know you, I thought. It’s as if I’ve always known you. Maybe that was the miracle.

  Ron, thank you for opening up to me, for trusting me, for showing me Ferguson and the road you walked. Thank you for laughing and crying with me, for challenging me, and for making me look at the world differently—ultimately with greater depth and feeling. Our writing process became a mix of confession and therapy, for both of us. I am very honored and thankful to call you my friend.

  Lori, you are a guiding light, a pinnacle of strength, wisdom, enthusiasm, and good cheer. Ron and I could not have done the book without you. Thank you.

  We could not have found a better home than Tyndale House. Every person there deserves a mention and a thank-you, but we have to begin with Carol Traver. You are a force—wise, strong, kind, and hilarious. Thanks for your vision, guidance, insight, openness, directness, and excellent book recommendations. Dave Lindstedt, you are incredibly thorough, and you pushed me hard. I may have resisted a little at first, but your edits were intelligent, true, sharp, and pure. Thank you. Dean Renninger, your overall design—and especially the cover—is a riveting study of deep emotion, a book cover as art. Thank you for your kind words and keen eye.

  Eric Rhone Sr., thank you for your savvy, toughness, and good nature, and for always having Ron’s back.

  Jessica Stahl, thank you.

  Anthony Mattero—superstar, superpartner, brother—you’re the best.

  Thanks to my friends David Ritz, Madeline and Phil Schwarzman, Susan Pomerantz and George Weinberger, Susan Baskin and Richard Gerwitz, Kathy Montgomery and Jeff Chester, Linda Nussbaum, Ed Feinstein, and Gary Meisel.

  Thanks to my family: Jim Eisenstock, Jay Eisenstock, Loretta Barrabee, Lorraine, Linda, Diane, Alan, Chris, Ben, and Nate.

  Jonah, Kiva, and Randy, you make my day, every day.

  Z, GG, and S, thank you forever.

  Finally, thanks to Bobbie: LOML.

  A final word: Over the months and months that Ron and I spoke, I carried a photo in my mind’s eye that I still cannot shake. I see Ron walking down the center of a road. It could be West Florissant in Ferguson, or it could be a street in Baltimore, or Chicago, or Dallas, or New York, or Cleveland, or . . . sadly, any street in any city. Ron walks slowly but with purpose, and though he is surrounded on all sides by people, he walks alone. On one side, I see the residents of that city. On the other side, I see men and women in uniform. The faces of all these people are the same, their eyes expressing the same emotions: despair, anger, fear, frustration.

  I look closer and I see tears welling up in Ron’s eyes.

  I know he wishes he could move out of the way and that law enforcement and citizens would walk down the same street together, toward the same goal, the same purpose, their faces all sharing another emotion: hope. That day may come. But right now, that day feels far away.

  I want to acknowledge everyone on both sides. I learned from my dear friend Ron that we are not so different, we are not so far apart; we can come together. We just have to believe in each other.

  DISCUSSION QUESTIONS

  * * *

  PROLOGUE: CONFRONTATION

  In the prologue, Ron Johnson comes face-to-face with his own preconceived ideas about other people based on how they appear. What biases of your own do you need to acknowledge? How have your biases changed in recent years?

  DAY 1: MICHAEL BROWN’S BODY

  What was your initial reaction when you heard about the Michael Brown shooting in Ferguson? How did the reporting of that incident affect your perception of the police or of race relations in the US?

  DAY 2: “THIS IS WAR”

  What did you think when you heard about the rioting in Ferguson? How could the people and the police have responded differently?

  DAY 3: “THESE PEOPLE”

  What fears or biases are revealed in the trooper’s use of the phrase “these people”? What can we do to move beyond seeing others as “these people” in order to find common ground for understanding each other?

  DAY 4: “WHY AM I DIFFERENT?”

  Describe your response to Ron’s story about the time his father took him to jail. Do you think his father’s actions were helpful? Harmful? Effective?

  Describe a time when you felt different, hated, or misunderstood. How did you respond? Did it make you stronger or weaker? How did this event affect your faith in God?

  DAY 5: WAITING FOR THE STORM

  Ron’s father-in-law tells him that the police need to do “something different” in response to the riots and unrest in Ferguson. What might they do differently that hasn’t been tried yet?

  Ron describes some confrontations between the police and journalists out on the street. What is the role of the mainstream media in shaping our understanding and perception of events such as those in Ferguson? What is the role of social media?

  DAY 6 (DAYLIGHT): A DIFFERENT MORNING

  Ron describes a valuable lifelong lesson he learned in boot camp with the Missouri State Highway Patrol: “It doesn’t matter how strong you are physically. What matters is your inner strength. Your spirit. Your will. Your heart.” Describe a time when your inner strength was tested or when it helped you accomplish a goal you had set for yourself.

  DAY 6 (AFTER DARK): “I NEED ANSWERS”

  What do you think of Ron’s decision to march with the protesters? In what ways can we “march with” people who may oppose us or who differ from us? How can we become instruments of God’s grace, mercy, and power in other people’s lives?

  DAY 7: “SAVE OUR SONS”

  How does the release of the security camera video from the convenience store affect your perception of the Michael Brown shooting? Do you think it was the right decision to release the video to the public before turning it over to the grand jury? Why or why not?

  In describing his preparation for one of his new conferences, Ron says, “I see myself as a police officer caught between the line of law enforcement I stand with and the people on the street—the citizens I’ve pledged to protect.” Discuss your views on how the police should balance enforcing the law with serving the public.

  DAY 8: “NO MORE THAN I CAN BEAR”

  Sometimes, leadership means making decisions or doing things that are unpopular with the people we lead. How should leaders respond when they believe they are doing the right thing but others disagree?

  DAY 9: “I AM YOU”

  When Ron’s boss tells him that public information officers will be taking over the news conferences and press interviews, Ron feels that they have taken away his voice. Have you had an experience in your life when you felt you lost your ability to speak for yourself or speak up for someone else? How did you respond? How did you get your voice back?

  When Ron speaks at the memorial for Michael Brown, he apologizes to Michael Brown’s family as a law enforcement officer, even though he was not responsible for Michael Brown’s death. Do you think he did the right thing? Discuss the role of “representational repentance” in breaking down barriers between people.

  DAY 10: A BULLET HAS NO NAME

  Tension between law enforcement and the local community is at the heart of 13 Days in Ferguson. Discuss practical ways in which members of local communities can work to improve relationships with law enforcement.

  DAY 11: MAN, BLACK MAN, TROOPER

  Ron observes that “faith is not what you feel. It’s what you do.” What is the role of faith in solving our differences with other people? If reconciliation is “a game of inche
s,” discuss what you can do this week to make some incremental progress toward reconciliation with people who differ from you.

  DAY 12: “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?”

  Ron’s strategy in Ferguson was to walk, talk, and listen. How can you apply this strategy in your local community to begin to foster positive change? What is the role of presence, persistence, and consistency in achieving positive results?

  DAY 13: “TROUBLE DOESN’T LAST ALWAYS”

  For change to take root and bear long-term fruit, we must teach succeeding generations the truths and values that undergird positive change. What can we do to teach our children how to get along better with people who are different from us?

  EPILOGUE: AFTER FERGUSON

  Ron advises us to “see people as people,” “abandon labels,” and “try not to prejudge.” What can you do to begin to put his vision into practice? How hopeful are you that real change is possible?

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  * * *

  CAPTAIN RONALD S. JOHNSON was born and raised in St. Louis, Missouri. He holds a criminal justice degree and is a graduate of Northwestern University Traffic Institute of Police Staff and Command and a 2014 graduate of the Federal Bureau of Investigation National Academy. He is certified in police instruction and the development and implementation of assessment-center exercises for command-level staff officers. Captain Johnson and his wife, Lori, have been married for twenty-nine years and have two adult children, Amanda and Bradley.