He displayed no emotion. No fear. No doubt. No anxiety in the moment.

People had gathered around the scene. A black man face down on the asphalt. His body pushed up against the car.

I stood there silently not believing what was unfolding in front of me. Those around me, cell phones out, recording, pleading with him to stop.

I couldn’t make out what was being said. Their words muffled by my confusion. My refusal to accept that I was witnessing a murder.

He displayed no emotion. No fear. No doubt. No anxiety in the moment.

This was a practiced ritual for him. As if he was carrying out an order. This was not a crime of passion or something that happened in the heat of the moment. This was how he approached every day as a cop.

Yet, I got the feeling that this was something unique. Premeditated. The way he looked at us as if to say “look at what I’m doing”.

Did he know the tidal wave he was unleashing?