MINNEAPOLIS — Amir Locke was laid to rest Thursday, 15 days after a Minneapolis police officer shot and killed the 22-year-old during the predawn execution of a no-knock search warrant.
Inside Shiloh Temple International Ministries in north Minneapolis, 1,000 mourners absorbed the complex emotions after another death of a Black man at the hands of police: joy and hope in God. Pain and sadness at the violent death of a shy, loving, funny young man — who called his mom "Big Dawg," who wanted to become a rapper — just coming into his own.
Most of all, though, was a steady expression of outrage. It was directed toward Minneapolis police, toward city and state power-brokers, and toward what mourners see as America's systemic racism upholding law enforcement and judicial systems that work one way for young Black men and a different way for everyone else.
"Amir was not guilty of being anything but being young and Black in America," the Rev. Al Sharpton declared in his eulogy during the 2-hour, 15-minute service. "We are the survivors of the worst condemnation in history," he added, referring to slavery, "and that's why this is just a tragedy that we are here."
Sharpton and other speakers sought to galvanize support for police reform as a tribute to the young man whose body, clad in a black and blue tuxedo, lay in an ivory casket surrounded by dozens of red roses.
"Amir Rahkare Locke was born on 11/11/99 ... and it took me 10 hours of labor to push him into this world," said his mother, Karen Wells. "And on 2/2/22, those thugs that represent the Minneapolis Police Department executed my baby boy, my beautiful baby boy, in less than nine seconds. How dare you. You're not above the law. You're not above a higher power."
"I keep seeing that still picture of my baby with the covers still over his head," she continued. "The chief of police, Mayor Frey, and all those SWAT members that was in there, when you go to bed at night, I want you to see his face. When you wake up in the morning, I want you to see his face."
Gov. Tim Walz came to pay respects, as did members of George Floyd's family. Neither Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey nor interim police chief Amelia Huffman was in attendance. Shiloh Temple Bishop Richard Howell said the family did not invite Frey and did not want any Minneapolis police there.
Brooklyn Center Mayor Mike Elliott returned to Shiloh Temple less than a year after attending services for Daunte Wright, who had been fatally shot by former Officer Kimberly Potter. (Potter was convicted and is scheduled to be sentenced Friday.)
"Why does this have to keep happening?" Elliott said in the lobby. "And if the fight-or-flight mechanism is a real condition within us, what control will they have in determining whether to try and get away from the police to stay safe if they can watch someone who looks like them do nothing, but be woken up and shot dead."
Locke had a clean criminal record and was a registered gun owner who got a firearm because he was worried about carjackings when he drove for DoorDash, according to family.
He was not a suspect and not named in the no-knock search warrant Minneapolis police were executing Feb. 2 related to a St. Paul homicide. Police burst into the downtown Minneapolis apartment shortly before 7 a.m., when Locke was under a blanket, asleep on a couch. Bodycam footage showed several officers shouting commands, then one officer kicking the couch. Locke grabbed a gun next to him, and Officer Mark Hanneman shot Locke three times, killing him.
"You came to his dwelling, uninvited, with guns already drawn — to shoot," Locke's aunt, Linda Kay Tyler said at Locke's funeral. "You did the breaking and entering into someone else's home. You cannot continue to sanction laws like these."
Family members shared heartbreaking details, such as when Locke's brother, André Locke Jr., viewed Locke's body and put his hands on the bullet holes. Family said the holes were the size of the cap on a Gatorade bottle. Again and again, family members joined Sharpton and civil rights attorney Ben Crump in calling for police reform legislation, including a ban on no-knock warrants in Minnesota and nationwide.
But several family members were pointed in saying they were not anti-police; they were pro-Amir. Locke's dad, André Locke Sr., said he comes from a military family, a patriotic family. "How could this happen to a patriotic family?" he said. "They didn't care about Amir."
The final speaker of the day was Reginald McClure, a cousin of Locke's father who lives in Texas. McClure, a Marine Corps veteran who served two overseas tours, has worked in both federal and local law enforcement. And he is a Black man whose family member was slain by police.
"When I saw that video, it wasn't just hurtful — it was embarrassing to me," he said. "There's a lot of ways you could have handled that differently ... If you held up your right hand and swore before God, then you need to be held to the full extent of the law."
McClure said he hoped Locke's death could be a clarion call for reforming not just police but society as a whole.
"Accountability goes both ways," he said. "If you want to hold law enforcement accountable — and rightly so, because they swore an oath and to abide by it — then yes. But you also can't turn your back on somebody shooting up a neighborhood and shooting grandmas and babies."
The congregation looked toward McClure, standing above Locke's casket, and applauded.
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