The officer calmly approached the man, then both officers sruck him repeatedly with batons, kicked him several times, and finished him off with a round of pepper spray.  After the fun was over, the officers  calmly walked back to the other officers, flashing thumbs-up signs.  Meanwhile, this man was lying beaten and bloodied in the road.  We  dragged him from the scene and called for an ambulance.  The funny thing is that there was a news van there with cameras rolling, yet none of the footage was seen at all.  I was infuriated.  I couldn't understand how this could happen in America.  The supposed "land of the free".  Anyway, at this point a crowd of angry residents had formed.  We began marching down Broadway chanting at the officers.  The officers retreated down Broadway to the neighborhood precinct, where they met up with about a hundred National Guard troops.  They formed a line in the middle of the road and stopped there.  It looked to be a standoff.  Everything was calm for about a half an hour, then without warning or an order to disperse, the police began the attack once again.  Luckily for me, I had borrowed a gas mask previously from an acquaintance.  One woman wasn't so lucky.  She was acting like the tear gas had caused an ashma attack.  I ran over to her to try and help.  Some others were also trying to revive her.  As we were helping her, the police blasted us with rubber bullets and tear gas.  We started to throw and kick the canisters away from her, and some others dragged the woman away to safety.  Everything became calm for about ten minutes.  I began talking with another man about how crazy the situation was, and how the police were acting like the gestapo.  We decided to give them a nazi salute.  We held our hands outstretched for about thirty seconds.  Then without warning, the officers charged and begin firing.  I was hit with two 40mm wooden pellets.  The first hit my chest above the sternum.  The second struck my left hand, shattering the third metacarpal.  I picked myself up off of the ground and put my hand to my chest.  It came back bloody.  I thought I had actually been shot!  I started to run, and it wasn't until later that I noticed that the top of my left had was caved in and protruding through my palm.  Not a pretty sight.  After that, the endorphines kicked in and I ran.  I ran through the stampeding crowd to Broadway, then a concerned cab driver took me to Swedish Medical Center. 
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