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The money — all $100,000 of it — didn’t last long.
For Vanessa Peoples, a payout after she’d been roughed up by Aurora police officers brought some relief to her family. It paid bills, allowed for a rare out-of-town vacation, provided college tuition and gave Peoples the ability to buy a car.
“I’m not upset I don’t have the money left because I did accomplish a lot. I had it and things needed to be done.” Peoples said. “I didn’t have to see my mom struggle anymore. For me to take care of my kids and pay my medical bills meant a lot.”
But four years later, Peoples continues to struggle with what happened on the afternoon of July 13, 2017, at her home in Aurora when an officer threw her on the floor, straddled her body and then tied her hands and legs behind her back as she screamed in pain.
She still has a criminal record that prevents her from getting a job. She and her husband can’t afford to move out of her mother’s house into a place of their own. And she suffers from depression, often questioning her actions that day despite the settlement.
“They took something from me,” Peoples said. “They made me feel like I was the one who was wrong. I still think about it and I ask, ‘Why did that have to happen to us?’”
Financial settlements long have been the American way for compensating people wronged by governments and businesses. They bring attention to bad behavior, and the publicity can lead to public pressure that forces change.
But settlements don’t cost a police department or its officers a dime. And they don’t stop police from using unnecessary force — Peoples’ case happened two years before Elijah McClain died after a violent encounter with Aurora police.
And a sudden windfall does not solve all problems for those who, like Peoples, have been abused by police.
“I tell people just because I got that settlement it doesn’t change your life,” Peoples said. “Every time I spent that money, I thought about what happened.”
“Tied me up like an animal”
Four years ago last Tuesday, Aurora police officers walked through Peoples’ front door after they were called by an Adams County Department of Human Services social worker who was trying to interview Peoples about a recent misdemeanor ticket for child abuse.
A few weeks earlier, Peoples had been visiting with a cousin in a local park when one of her boys wandered away from the adults. A woman who lived near the park picked up Peoples’ son and called police even though Peoples quickly came to find the boy. Aurora police issued Peoples a misdemeanor ticket.
On the day police came to her house, Peoples — who had been doing laundry in the basement and is partially deaf in one ear — did not hear anyone knock on her door. After no one answered, the social workers called police because they could see one of Peoples’ sons through a window. Officers entered through an unlocked door.
Peoples was stunned when she turned a corner in her basement and came face-to-face with a police officer — gun drawn — coming down the steps.
Upset that police and social workers were in her home, Peoples called her mother, who was at a doctor’s appointment, and her husband, who was at work, to come home.
The situation was tense as Peoples answered a social worker’s questions with police officers standing around her house. Peoples feared the social workers would take away her children.
“All I have is my kids,” she said.