When I was a student at Fuller Seminary I was involved in a minor traffic accident in Pasadena CA due to the other driver running a red light. I ended up face down with several police officers on my back, resulting in permanent injury & pain. They over-reacted, bullied, used excessive force, failed to “de-escalate” , & made several significant errors of judgment & discretion. And yet despite being a college graduate with honors & having never been in “trouble” before, all the blame was aimed at me, without apology. This was at the time that a guy named Melenkian was chief. As a Christian I do believe in “turning the other cheek” but also in appropriately addressing wrongs so that they don’t happen again. I took action against them, & I am fairly certain those specific police officers will never do what they did to me to anybody else again. Nonetheless, the damage they caused to me was permanent (chronic pain for life, among other things).

ppd

KEEPING AN EYE ON PASADENA PD: WHAT THEY SAY VERSUS WHAT THEY DO

The Unjust Takedown on Lake Avenue: A Pasadena CA story

The Unjust Takedown on Lake Avenue

πŸš“ The Unjust Takedown on Lake Avenue

A Short Story

Part I: The Quiet Interruption

Twilight on Lake Avenue

The sun hung low over the San Gabriel Mountains, painting the sky above Pasadena in bruised oranges and purples—the same fading light that mirrored the sudden, agonizing shift in J. Good A. Citizen’s life.

At fifty-five, Good was not a man built for confrontation. His days were spent wrestling with Aramaic texts and theological paradoxes within the quiet sanctuary of Fuller Seminary. He was an M.Div. student, a man of faith, and—paradoxically—a believer in the necessity of law and order.

That evening, he was simply hungry. It was a short break between late classes, and he drove north on Lake Avenue, his thoughts still orbiting Pauline eschatology.

As the light turned green, Good eased forward—only to see a black SUV tear through the intersection, running a solid red light. He slammed on the brakes. The stop was violent, painful, but just enough. The vehicles missed each other by inches.

The SUV’s driver, Evangalina Bustamonte, skidded to a halt, shaken but unharmed. Adrenaline surged through Good as sirens cut through the dusk. Two Pasadena Police Department cruisers pulled up almost immediately.

Officer Thomas Brown, stocky and severe, approached first. His partner, Tim Mosman, was leaner, his energy sharp and unsettling.

The injustice began instantly. The officers had heard the screeching brakes—but they had not seen the red-light violation. Lacking context, they stepped into the scene already vulnerable to bias.

Part II: The Coercive Demand

“Just Accept Responsibility”

Officer Mosman spoke first with Ms. Bustamonte—quiet, reassuring. When he turned to Good, his tone hardened.

“Sir, just acknowledge the accident was your fault. Let’s wrap this up.”

Good felt clarity cut through the adrenaline. “Officer, I can’t do that. The other driver ran a red light. I had the right of way. I avoided a collision by inches. I won’t accept blame for something I didn’t do.”

Those words—“I won’t accept blame”—ignited something volatile. Officer Brown stepped closer, fury tightening his face.

“You will do as we say. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

Witnesses later noted Brown’s eyes—visibly dilated, adrenalized. This was no longer law enforcement. It was dominance. A display of power meant to validate one driver and crush dissent from another.

Part III: The Matter of Seconds and the Searing Pain

Force Without Cause

The escalation happened in seconds. Officer Brown drew his baton and thrust it forcefully into Good’s abdomen. Reflexively, Good pushed it away—an act of self-defense mischaracterized as aggression.

The officers attempted a takedown. Good yelled, frightened and confused. When handcuffs touched his wrists, he tensed his arms—nothing more.

Sergeant Calvin Pratt, arriving as backup, later testified that Good’s resistance was limited to tensing and yelling. He was unarmed. Not assaultive. Not fleeing.

But defiance—verbal defiance—was enough.

“Take him down!”

Good was lifted, twisted, and thrown face-first onto the asphalt. The impact was violent. Bone-jarring. Pain exploded through his back and neck as the world went briefly silent.

Even restrained, the cruelty continued. Sergeant Pratt applied a control hold, ignoring Good’s cries of searing pain.

Part IV: Agony on the Asphalt

Public Humiliation

Handcuffed, glasses bent beside him, Good lay on the pavement for nearly an hour. No medical aid. No squad car. Just exposure—rush-hour traffic passing by.

The City’s own expert later conceded the truth: the takedown aggravated pre-existing conditions, causing permanent spinal injury and worsened carpal tunnel syndrome.

The charge—Disturbing the Peace—was eventually dropped. The damage was not.

Part V: The Argument for Justice

Accountability

This was not an isolated lapse. Former officer Naum Ware’s book Roses Have Thorns documents a culture of excessive force and internal deception within the Pasadena Police Department.

The argument for justice is clear:

  • The threat was zero. Passive resistance does not justify violent force.
  • The injury is permanent. The City bears responsibility.
  • The badge is not immunity. Authority without accountability is abuse.

This was not policing. It was punishment.

“For He shall give His angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways.” — Psalm 91:11