Aug. 9, 2014, is a day that’s forever etched into Michael Brown Sr.’s memory.
It started with an early morning work shift. He went home afterward. Brown was helping his wife, Cal, with the laundry when his phone started to ring. It was his mother. She had one of those maternal gut feelings that she couldn’t shake. Something bad was going to happen. She was firm.
Michael needed to pick up his son.
Brown Sr. promised he would once he finished. The next call came from Michael Brown Jr.’s other grandmother.
Mike Mike was dead.
“My mind went to—I couldn't even tell you,” Brown recounted to St. Louis Public Radio in 2019. “I was somewhere in a dark place. I went straight to a tunnel. I just was like, everything is moving too slow for me. I need to go there. You know? It's hard to explain. But just trying to get to where he's at. It's like people ain't moving fast enough or, you know, like almost in 'The Matrix.'”
Michael, Cal and his mother-in-law jumped in the car and sped toward Canfield Drive in Ferguson. What awaited them was grim. Michael Brown Jr.’s dead body had laid uncovered in the street for 4 ½ hours under the sweltering summer sun. Countless children and adults would bear witness to the sight.
The crowd grew with each hour. Police were posted everywhere. The sounds of screams and cries saturated the Ferguson community. By the time Michael Brown Sr. got there, his son’s body was covered with a white sheet. As he made his way through the crowd, police blocked him from getting closer. His pleas for answers were ignored.
Was the person under the sheet his son? He would soon get an answer.
A red Cardinals hat and a pair of Nike flip-flops near Mike Mike’s body caught his attention. Both invoked happy memories — of Michael Brown Sr. and Cal’s wedding only weeks before. Then his son’s friend walked up to him and confirmed his worst fears.
“I knew for a fact that was him then,” Brown Sr. added during a 2019 interview with St. Louis Public Radio. “We were being disrespected. Couldn't see him. He laid in the street [for] so long—4 ½ hours. [It] was just ridiculous. Having dogs barking at us … ARs pointed in our face. It was just a ridiculous day. It was terrible.”
Pain to purpose
It’s been 10 years since 18-year-old Michael Brown Jr. was shot and killed by a white police officer in Ferguson. His death sparked a global movement calling for police accountability and an end to racial injustice. His family members are healing and turning their pain into purpose on their own terms.
Michael Brown Sr. takes comfort in spending hours with his son at the cemetery. It’s the one place he gets “a chance to breathe.”
“I remember my son smiling, being silly,” Brown Sr. said. “[He was] just a fun guy. [He] loved his grandparents. Treated them like they [were] his girlfriends. He just loved different. His character was just amazing.”
His siblings have grown up. He’d be an uncle now. Cal, his stepmom, said his siblings haven’t forgotten him, but they’re healing in their own way.
“Everybody is their own little individual self and seeking their little ways through the world,” Cal said. “For the entire family, this season is rough, but with our togetherness and the way that we have raised our children, we’re doing pretty good.”
Part of the Browns’ healing lies in their foundation. Michael Brown Sr. and Cal launched the Michael Brown Sr. Chosen for Change Organization to help other families navigate loss and grief. The goal is to save lives and give resources and support to other families that weren’t available when Mike was killed.
“No one asked us what we really needed,” Michael Brown Sr. said. “At the time, we didn’t really know what we needed until we saw other families go through the same thing that we went through.”
The organization created programs tailored to grieving fathers, mothers and kids that include Chosen Fathers, Cookies N Convos, Mothers of an Angel and Children Overcoming Painful Experiences with Support.
“Sadly, a lot of us don’t pay attention to children when they lose a loved one, a brother or a mother,” Brown Sr. said. “Then they wonder why our [children] spiral out of control when they get a certain age because they didn’t receive the help [they need].”
They’re in the process of launching their 1st 48 Responders program. It’s a safety net for grieving families to prevent them from falling through the cracks during the first 48 hours after tragedy strikes. The couple even brought “Grief the Bear” into the fold. He’s a life-size white, fluffy, mascot-like bear, who has been a hit with kids and adults. The concept stems from a Build-A-Bear Cal gifted her daughter for her birthday four years ago. Quickly, she noticed the bear became a surrogate for someone she was missing.
“This bear was helping her cope with her brother’s death,” Cal said. “We would often catch her talking to this bear and calling him ‘Mike Mike,’ and hugging it, and playing different games and tea parties. When I looked at her I was like, wow, that could really be something. That could be a companion for children who are going through grief.”
Both Michael and Cal have taken turns being “Grief the Bear.”
The foundation focuses on more than just grief support. It offers after-school youth programs to help kids with homework and literacy, providing a meal and a safe space.
“A lot of the children that we serve, dad could be incarcerated,” Cal said. “Mom could be absent. So, we just really wanted to fill in the gap to make sure that we were creating a space that was inclusive for their needs.”
Never forget
However, the core of the organization always circles back to Michael Brown Jr. Each August, his father makes his way back to Canfield Drive —what he calls ground zero — to honor his son’s life with a memorial. This is his way of thanking the community members who made sure everyone knew his son’s name.
“I will never forget them for standing up for my son,” Brown said. “It’s not just me commemorating him. It’s me giving back and me getting back into the community. Showing love for the unity that was made and to try to bring that back, because after that day or that weekend it kind of separates again. So we’re trying to keep unity together.”
This week, the organization kicks off All Roads Lead to Ferguson,a number of events for the community to participate in including documentary screenings, an art exhibit and a unity walk from Normandy High School to ground zero. The Browns wanted the events to honor Mike.
His father believes his son would be proud of the work they’ve accomplished in his name. He said much of the framework was based on his son’s own thoughts before he died.
“We definitely paid attention when the case with Trayvon Martin happened,” Brown said. “He was very pissed. He went out. He protested. And he wore his hoodie. I recognize that he was clear [about] this unjust system and the things that can happen. Sadly, he passed away — or got murdered.”
What about justice?
For years, the family has called for the officer who killed their son to be held accountable. In 2014, a grand jury opted not to charge Darren Wilson. The Browns were hopeful that a shake-up in leadership at the St. Louis County prosecuting attorney’s office would yield better results. In 2018, Prosecuting Attorney Wesley Bell defeated Bob McCulloch in the Democratic primary and became the first Black person to hold the position.
Two years after his historic win, Bell announced that he would not be charging Wilson. Although he said his decision did not solidify Wilson’s innocence, Bell said that under state law he could not prove beyond a reasonable doubt that he committed murder or manslaughter.
“I will never stop fighting and wanting justice for Mike Brown Jr.,” his father said. “Whatever I have to do to bring his case back up or try to get his case back open and make that a priority, I will. [There’s] no statute on murder. It depends on whoever wants to investigate. Hopefully, they’ll do a thorough investigation and not go over old records.”
Cal agrees. She wants to see this case go to court. But it wouldn’t bring her stepson back.
“What does justice really look like when you lose your child?" Cal said. “That’s really hard to paint that type of picture. There are many families that we know that [got] so-called justice and it was in a monetary form. Then they are asked to be quiet and not talk about it anymore. So, is that really justice?”
She remains hopeful that her husband will get justice for Mike in his lifetime.
Michael Brown Sr. said the fight is not over. But as he reflects on his child’s life nearly 10 years later, he wants the world to see his son as he does and not dehumanize him.
“He was loved,” Brown said. “He was a human.”
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