The Tape: Rediscovering Humanity in the Shadow of CHOP

VIDEO: FOX 13 Seattle’s Jennifer Dowling’s reporting on newly discovered footage featuring Antonio Mays Jr.

By Omari Salisbury

Five years is a long time. It is long enough for narratives to harden into concrete, for headlines to fade into history, and for a city to try to move on. But for those of us who were there—standing on the pavement at 12th and Pine, breathing in the tear gas, and documenting the unraveling of a movement—the past is never really gone. It lives in the archives. It lives in the trauma we carry.

And sometimes, it lives in a piece of tape you didn’t even know you had.

This morning, FOX 13 Seattle aired a report on the wrongful death lawsuit filed by the estate of Antonio Mays Jr. against the City of Seattle. Jury selection begins next week. But the heart of that report wasn't legal strategy or court filings. It was a video. A video I shot. A video that sat in my archives, unseen and unrealized, for five years.

For half a decade, I have wrestled with a heavy, haunting question in the quiet hours of the night: Was it my lens that brought him here? Did Antonio Mays Jr., a 16-year-old boy from California, watch my livestreams and see a call to action? Did my coverage paint a picture that compelled him to leave his home, his family, and his safety to come to Seattle?

I was there the night he was murdered. I stood in the chaos. I documented the aftermath. But I never knew—until now—that I had looked him in the eye just 48 hours prior.

Journalists Sydney Brownstone and David Gutman from the Seattle Times, along with Will James from KUOW, and a team from NPR found the footage. In it, you don’t see the "rioter" or "threat" that some defense attorneys might try to conjure up in a courtroom. You see a child. You see a young man wearing a black and yellow shirt and a white mask, standing calm amidst the storm. He wasn’t screaming. He wasn’t violent. He was articulate and wise beyond his years.

"I would like to make it known that I wish that the police would have more supervision when it comes to their training," he said.

Those were his words. Not hatred. Not destruction. Just a reasonable, heartbreakingly mature plea for better policing. He was here because he believed his voice mattered. He was here to make his father proud.

Watching Antonio Mays Sr. view this footage was one of the most profound moments of my career. He told us that seeing the video made him feel like his son was right there with him again. It overwhelmed him. But more than that, it reaffirmed what a father has known in his soul for five agonizing years: His son was a good kid. He was a partner in the family barbecue business. He had a big heart. He was exactly who he said he was.

As this trial begins on December 8th, the City and the lawyers will argue about liability, "unknown third parties," and negligence. They will talk about barricades and response times. But we cannot let the legal jargon erase the human being at the center of this tragedy.

We cannot forget that before he was a victim, and before he was a headline, Antonio Mays Jr. was a teenager with a vision for a better world.

I hope this tape serves as more than just evidence. I hope it serves as a mirror. When you strip away the politics of 2020, what is left is the raw humanity of a boy who wanted to make a difference, and a father who just wants the world to know the truth about his son.

To Mr. Mays: I cannot undo the past. I cannot bring him back. But I hope this footage gives you the armor you need for the weeks ahead. Your son was here. He was peaceful. He was heard.

And now, finally, he is truly seen.