Family of man killed by police asks: 'Why?'

MOUNT AUBURN – Ebony Johnson wailed at the corner of Valencia and Rice, the grief nearly doubling her over.

Across the street, three men sang woeful tunes and tapped bongos aside a makeshift memorial for 43-year-old Samuel Dubose, a man Johnson said was her cousin by biology only. In reality, he was more a brother, she said.

In the wake of Dubose’s Sunday shooting death by a University of Cincinnati police officer during a traffic stop, Johnson said she’s worried that people will take one look at his lengthy rap sheet – and his suspended driver’s license – and figure he had it coming.

What they really should be asking, she said, is: How does a missing license plate escalate to a shooting?

“People see an arrest record like that, and they automatically say, ‘Oh, that’s why they killed him,’” said Johnson, 38. “It wasn’t like that. He’s never been violent.”

Over the past 20 years, Dubose has been charged more than 75 times in Hamilton County. Most of the charges were indeed non-violent: driving without a license, joyriding, having windows tinted too dark, misdemeanor drug possession. An assault charge in 2013 was dismissed. He’s faced eviction seven times, and he had his license suspended indefinitely in January by the Ohio Bureau of Motor Vehicles.

University police were still piecing together what happened after the 6:30 p.m. traffic stop. At a Monday news conference, Chief Jason Goodrich said Officer Ray Tensing spotted Dubose driving without a front license plate at Vine and McMillan near the UC campus and followed him about a half-mile.

Tensing asked for a driver’s license, which Dubose couldn’t produce. He gave the officer a bottle of alcohol instead, Goodrich said.

The two men struggled at the door of the car, and Tensing fired once, fatally striking Dubose, Goodrich said. The car, now driven by a dying man, traveled a block farther before coming to a rest on the narrow sidewalk at Rice and Valencia.

Officer waiting to talk to UC, city police about incident

That’s as detailed as Goodrich said he could get Monday. Tensing has yet to provide a statement to UC police about the incident. The officer, who’s on paid administrative leave, also opted to take 48 hours before giving a statement to Cincinnati police, which is assisting with the investigation. Officials hope that video footage from a building on the street, and from Tensing’s body camera, will help provide some clarity. There was no video captured by Tensing’s cruiser.

For Dubose’s friends and family, it doesn’t add up. Dozens of people gathered for a prayer vigil Monday night where Dubose was shot. His mother, Audrey Dubose, recited Bible verses to the crowd of friends, community leaders and family, including many of Dubose’s children.

“My son was not a violent person,” she said. “He got stopped a lot, but he never tried to fight.”

Along with other speakers during the vigil, she questioned what the UC police officer was doing so far from the school. She asked how a minor traffic stop turned into a shooting.

“It was unjustified. My son had no business getting killed,” she told reporters after the event. “I would love for the police officer that did this to let me know how could he put a gun to a human being’s head, any human being, not just my son.”

“I would love to know just what happened,” Johnson said. Dubose had been ill lately and was recently hospitalized, she said. “He was meek and mild and so peaceful. There’s no way he could struggle and fight.”

Johnson asked why Tensing didn’t use a Taser to subdue Dubose. There’s a reason: The last time a UC police officer killed someone, it was with a Taser in August 2011. UC agreed to pay $2 million and suspend the use of Tasers by its officers as part of a settlement with the victim’s family.

The only other fatal police shooting by university police was equally controversial. In 1997, a 25-year-old Avondale man with a history of mental illness escaped from University Hospital. Armed with a brick, he was surrounded by 15 police officers. Two of the officers – one from the city police and one from the university – both fired twice, hitting the man three times.

A Hamilton County grand jury declined to indict the officers but attacked procedures for dealing with the mentally ill. The man’s family was awarded $200,000 in a civil lawsuit.

David Perry, a past president for the International Association of Campus Law Enforcement Administrators, said that campus officers are trained exactly the same as municipal officers. On average, they receive more continuing education, he said.

While municipal police officers nationwide are involved in about 400 killings per year, fatal shootings by campus officers is far rarer, he added.

“When they occur, they have the same impact, if not more, because of the setting. They’re just as important,” said Perry, who is assistant vice-president for safety and chief of police at Florida State University. “The same exhaustive review will take place. The process will be no different than if a municipal officer had been involved.”

Dubose dropped drugs, cleaned up his life, friends say

Dubose was known in the neighborhood as a music producer. Callie Lee, who grew up in Walnut Hills, said Dubose once recorded her son singing “In the Still of the Night.”

“Sam gave him free studio time,” said Lee, whose friends call her Cookie.

Russell Dubose, 23, said his cousin loved producing rap and R&B records especially.

“He was just an overall good person with a big heart,” Russell Dubose said. “If I was having a bad day, he was always able to turn it around. He was a joker.”

He was also a father – many times over. One relative estimated that he had 13 children. Another said the tally was closer to 20. Johnson said she lost count. Dubose was never married, she said.

At the makeshift memorial, a handwritten poster was signed by some of his children. “We miss you Daddy,” one note read.

Kimberly Thomas, 40, and Mark Thomas, 45, both of Avondale, came Monday to place roses and balloons at the foot of the memorial. They’re shocked by both the shooting and the UC officer’s use of force off campus.

“We were best friends,” Kimberly Thomas said. “He was like a brother. He didn’t carry weapons. He was an awesome man.”

He was trying to turn his life around, Johnson said. He’d been a different person the past two years, cleaning up his act and ditching drugs. Hamilton County court records show one arrest in that period, the charges in which were dismissed.

“You could just see it,” Johnson said. “He was maintaining and he was living his heart. He paid his time, and now he’s gone.”

Reporter Patrick Brennan contributed