Remembering Baxter Shavers

The deaths of Michael Brown in Ferguson, Mo., and Eric Garner in New York City sparked protests around the country. These incidents raised important questions about race and the use of military tactics by the country’s police departments. They need answers, and the national conversation we are having is necessary—however uncomfortable it is.

And, of course, every American brings a different perspective to that conversation. Police have pulled over young black men for DWB—driving while black. Their stories deserve to be heard.

But so do the stories of men like Baxter Shavers.

Outside of Catoosa County, Ga., the name Baxter Shavers is almost completely unknown. But his story is worth remembering, and the summary is straightforward enough, as reported by the Officer Down Memorial Page, a website that remembers peace officers killed in the line of duty. That site begins Shavers’ entry with stark, understated prose: “Chief Deputy Baxter Shavers was shot and killed with his own service weapon by a robbery suspect.” The backstory is a bit more complicated. Shavers and Catoosa County Det. George Brown were on patrol when their radio crackled with news of an armed robbery. As they responded, they spotted a vehicle matching the description of one reported fleeing the scene. They began a pursuit and ultimately pulled the vehicle over. The driver fit the description of the alleged robber: a large black man.

Shavers approached the suspect and ordered him out of the car. He began frisking the suspect while Brown covered him. The suspect, who weighed about 300 pounds, spun around, knocking Shavers to the ground and taking his service weapon. Shavers was now unarmed, so the suspect first shot Brown, severely wounding him in the groin. Shavers scrambled to his feet, but the suspect fired several shots. One hit Shavers in the neck, killing him instantly.

All of this happened on April 14, 1978. Baxter Shavers was 24 years old and at that time was the youngest chief deputy in Georgia history. He also was married and the father of two small children.

I remember all of this because a year later I was an intern in the press office of Georgia Gov. George Busbee. That spring of 1979 I wrote a speech that Busbee delivered at Ft. Oglethorpe High School, Baxter Shavers’ alma mater. It was the anniversary of Shavers’ death, and the governor spoke to a packed house in the school’s gymnasium. That speech was, in some ways, a big break for me. For the next couple of years, it became an important part of my meager writing portfolio. Every time I made a copy of that speech, I thought about Shavers, his young widow, his two small children. But I soon stopped including it in the packages I sent to editors and prospective employers who asked to see my writing samples. My memories of Baxter Shavers faded.

But in Catoosa County, they still remember Baxter Shavers. The Fraternal Order of Police Post there is named in his honor, and in 2005, a portion of Battlefield Parkway—near where the Civil War Battle of Chickamauga took place—was dedicated in his memory. Shavers’ widow remarried. His children grew up to lead successful lives. If Baxter Shavers’ were alive today, he would be a grandfather.

Because the events I share here took place so long ago, I used the internet to augment and clarify my memory, and while researching Baxter Shavers, I learned a few more things. I learned, for example, that the experience of Baxter Shavers and his family is far from unique. So far in 2014, 109 officers have died in the line of duty. Nearly one a week—43 so far this year—involved gunfire. These statistics in no way excuse the behavior of police officers who behave badly, but those of us who judge police officers should have these statistics in mind, because you can be sure the officers themselves do. These numbers are a part of their training. Indeed, they are a part of their lives. Do the math yourself: If you’re a police officer and you’ve been on the job for 10 years, it is mathematically improbable that you do not know someone who has been killed or injured in the line of duty. For most cops on the beat, these statistics are not mere numbers. They conjure up a name and a face.

Police officers are not above the law. Those who break the law are criminals. A just society is right to exact consequences for wrong-doing. The voices of Eric Garner and Michael Brown and Trayvon Martin cry for justice, and they should have it.

But if we are going to have this national conversation and give everyone a seat at the table, let’s pull up a chair for the widow of Baxter Shavers. Let’s remember the children and grandchildren who never got to know him. Let’s remember the more than 4,000 officers who have died in the line of duty since Baxter Shavers courageously gave his life on that April day in 1978. And let’s also remember their wives and husbands, their children and grandchildren.

They deserve a seat at this table, too.