Deputy Clyde Kerr III,
After a long 8 hour work day, I came home, had McDonalds for dinner, and began to prepare for the next morning. Before hitting the shower, I decided to browse through my Instagram account. Suddenly, I discovered your suicide letter. Having been caught off guard, I decided to click on your video.
Forgive me, but I’m crying…It was hard to believe that the words you spoke were indeed your last.
Your words echo what I’ve been feeling ever since Trayvon Martin was murdered. You said something that I agree with 100%. You said “they don’t give a d**m about us.” What’s even more devastating is this: you are talking about the people you work with. The police. The sound of defeat in your voice breaks my heart. You and I both share a pain that some one who doesn’t looks like us cannot understand. The pain of knowing that the world can look at us and assume we’re a threat. The pain of the police treating us like wild animals instead of human beings. It’s hard to live daily life with these heavy burdens on our shoulders.
Clyde, I am so so sorry that this pain has brought you to your ending. If only there were others solutions that would save your life: quitting law enforcement, counseling, something. I and many others would have marched to wherever you were in a heartbeat in hopes of saving you. Lastly, I’m sorry that you were ignored by your colleagues when you offered solutions that would help our people. A sense of hope hovered over me when you mentioned your attempts to offering solutions to police brutality. Your actions have taught me that there are good officers out here who want us to live long healthy lives. Thank you for teaching me that.
It’s devastating that you are not here, but knowing that you are no longer suffering from inner turmoil gives a sense of ease. Rest easy and thank you so much for everything you have done when you were here.