In this recounting, I offer another example that speaks to the repetitive, systemic injustice that has plagued Black and Brown people at the hands of police. It is true that many of the incidents I discuss are among the most egregious examples of police misconduct. But I never want a single case to be relegated to the annals of history without a lesson being attached to it.
For this example, I take you to May 10, 2019—and to the death of Ronald Greene.
The excerpts from Greene's autopsy report are deeply troubling. The report listed his cause of death as "cocaine-induced agitated delirium," complicated by a motor vehicle collision, physical struggle, inflicted head injury, and restraint. Yet the report also noted that the lacerations on Greene's head were inconsistent with injuries typically associated with a motor vehicle collision and were more consistent with multiple impact sites from a blunt object.
The gaps in the official record were equally disturbing. No written incident report was provided despite requests. No detailed information regarding the motor vehicle collision was supplied. No emergency medical services records were provided. Even more troubling, the coroner's report did not clearly identify the manner of death.
That omission is significant. A death certificate or coroner's report generally requires the manner of death to be categorized as one of the following: natural, accidental, suicide, homicide, or undetermined. Yet in Ronald Greene's case, the circumstances surrounding his death remained shrouded in uncertainty. It would be nearly two years before the public would learn the truth about what happened to Ronald Greene at the hands of police.
And it was not the coroner who revealed it. It was not the police officers involved. It was not their administrators. It was not the officials responsible for investigating the incident. It was not the justice system that finally brought the truth to light. Instead, the public learned what had happened through leaked body-camera footage that eventually reached an Associated Press reporter.
Shame.
On that fatal night, Ronald Greene's mother was told by Louisiana State Police that her son had died as a result of a motor vehicle crash following a police pursuit. According to the initial account, officers had attempted to stop him shortly after midnight for a traffic violation.
That explanation remained largely unchallenged for two years, despite repeated efforts by Greene's family to obtain answers about what had happened. The family pursued a wrongful-death lawsuit and sought the appointment of a special prosecutor to investigate the matter.
Two years. Think about that. Two years passed before the public was given a fuller picture of what happened to Ronald Greene. And then came another disturbing revelation. When 49-year-old Ronald Greene's handcuffed, lifeless body arrived at the hospital on a gurney, Louisiana State Police reportedly told the emergency-room physician that Greene had died upon impact when his vehicle crashed into a tree. But the doctor's observations did not match that account. Greene's body was covered in blood and bruises. He had two Taser prongs in his back. The emergency-room physician documented his disbelief in the medical notes with the words: "Does not add up." It did not add up.
Following the filing of the wrongful-death lawsuit, Louisiana State Police issued a new, one-page report that substantially changed the account. The revised version stated that Greene had been taken into custody after resisting arrest, had become unresponsive, and died while being transported to the hospital. By then, 442 days had reportedly passed before an internal investigation was initiated.
The body-camera footage would eventually expose a far more disturbing reality. Officer Chris Hollingsworth, who was later fired, was captured describing his own actions during the encounter. In the recording, he said: "I beat the ever-living fuck out of him, choked him and everything else trying to get him under control. All of a sudden, he just went limp. I thought he was dead."
The footage showed officers striking Greene, repeatedly using Tasers, and restraining him. Greene could be heard crying out in pain, saying that he was scared, and apologizing to the officers. He pleaded for his life while officers continued to use force against him.
At one point, Trooper Kory York was seen dragging Greene face-down along the roadway by the chain attached to his leg shackles while Greene's hands were cuffed behind his back. The justification offered for the police encounter was that Ronald Greene had been speeding, running a red light, and attempting to evade police. But even if those allegations are accepted as true, they do not answer the fundamental question:
What happened to the principle that a person's punishment must be proportionate to the offense?
Speeding is not a death sentence. Running a red light is not a death sentence. Attempting to evade police is not a death sentence. And none of those actions gives anyone the right to beat, choke, shock, or otherwise abuse a person who is in police custody.
So now, I present the outcomes of this case to you. You be the judge. Ask yourself: Was justice served?
State Criminal Proceedings — The Initial Account and Allegations of a Cover-Up
Authorities initially told Ronald Greene's family that he had died in a car crash following a high-speed pursuit. Years later, leaked body-camera footage revealed a much more disturbing encounter, showing officers using force against Greene as he pleaded for mercy. The footage fundamentally challenged the original account of what had happened that night.
Indictments and Dropped Charges
In late 2022, a state grand jury indicted five officers—four state troopers and one local deputy—on charges ranging from negligent homicide to malfeasance. Over time, however, prosecutors dropped the most serious charges, including negligent-homicide allegations. Prosecutors cited the difficulty of proving the precise cause of Greene's death beyond a reasonable doubt amid conflicting autopsy findings that referenced physical struggle, Taser use, prone restraint, and cocaine-related complications.
The question remains: When an official account changes, when video evidence contradicts initial statements, and when a person's final moments are captured on camera, how much uncertainty should be allowed to obscure accountability?
Final Resolutions
Original police disciplinary punishment for Trooper Kory York was 50 hours of suspension without pay. I once received 40 hours of docked pay for being at fault in a vehicle accident with no injuries. Yet in this case, a man was beaten, shocked with Tasers, restrained, and dragged while handcuffed—and the consequences for those involved were, by comparison, remarkably limited.
According to the eventual criminal proceedings, York was initially charged with negligent homicide and malfeasance in office in connection with Ronald Greene's death. York ultimately pleaded no contest to a misdemeanor battery charge and those more serious charges were ultimately dropped. He was sentenced to two years of probation and 100 hours of community service. The disparity is difficult to comprehend.
Former Union Parish Deputy Chris Harpin, who had originally faced two counts of malfeasance in office, ultimately pleaded no contest to one misdemeanor count of simple battery. The more serious charges were not pursued, and the case was resolved without a conviction for malfeasance in office.
Charges against other officers, including Dakota DeMoss and John Clary, were quashed or dismissed.
Master Trooper Chris Hollingsworth, who was seen on video striking Greene, was fired from the Louisiana State Police. He died in a single-vehicle crash in 2020, shortly after learning that he would be terminated.
Federal Investigation — No Federal Criminal Charges
In January 2025, the U.S. Department of Justice informed Greene's family that federal prosecutors would not bring criminal civil-rights charges against the officers. Federal prosecutors concluded that they could not prove the required element of willful intent beyond a reasonable doubt.
For Greene's family, the decision represented another painful chapter in a case that had already been marked by unanswered questions and conflicting accounts.
A Broader Civil-Rights Investigation
The exposure of the body-camera footage in Greene's case also contributed to broader scrutiny of the Louisiana State Police. The U.S. Department of Justice opened a "pattern or practice" investigation examining allegations of systemic excessive force and potential misconduct within the agency.
This is important because Ronald Greene's case was not simply about one night or one officer. It raised questions about an entire system. Who investigates the investigators? Who holds law enforcement accountable when the initial official account is later contradicted by video evidence? Who protects the family when the institutions responsible for providing answers are the same institutions being questioned? And how many other families have been left without answers because there was no body-camera video, no leaked recording, or no reporter willing to pursue the truth?
The Civil Lawsuit and Settlement
In May 2026, Louisiana State Police and a local sheriff's office agreed to a $4.85 million settlement in the federal wrongful-death lawsuit brought by Ronald Greene's family, including his daughter.
A settlement can provide financial compensation. It can acknowledge that something went terribly wrong. But money cannot restore a life. It cannot give a mother back her son. It cannot erase the images captured on body-camera footage. It cannot undo the fear and suffering of Ronald Greene in his final moments. And it cannot erase the two years during which his family was left to live with an explanation that the evidence would ultimately call into question.
That is why Ronald Greene's story must not be forgotten. The lesson is not simply that one man died during an encounter with police. The lesson is that the truth was delayed. The official story changed. The evidence was hidden from the public until it was leaked. The family had to fight for answers. And even after the truth emerged, accountability remained limited.
This is precisely why these cases must be remembered. Because when society allows each individual case to disappear into the annals of history without examining what went wrong, the system is never forced to learn. And when the system does not learn, history repeats itself.
Ronald Greene deserved better. His family deserved better. And the public deserved the truth from the beginning—not two years later, not after a lawsuit, and not because a leaked video happened to find its way into the hands of a reporter.
The question before us is not simply whether justice was served in Ronald Greene's case. The larger question is whether we, as a society, are willing to demand a system in which justice does not depend on a leaked video, a determined family, or the persistence of a journalist. Because if justice only arrives when someone happens to expose the truth, then we must ask ourselves:
How many other Ronald Greene's are still waiting for the truth to be told?