In February of 1967, Oakland police officers stopped a car carrying Newton, Seale, and several other Panthers with rifles and handguns. When one officer asked to see one of the guns, Newton refused. âI donât have to give you anything but my identification, name, and address,â he insisted. This, too, he had learned in law school.
âWho in the hell do you think you are?â an officer responded.
âWho in the hell do you think you are?,â Newton replied indignantly. He told the officer that he and his friends had a legal right to have their firearms.
Newton got out of the car, still holding his rifle.
âWhat are you going to do with that gun?â asked one of the stunned policemen.
âWhat are you going to do with your gun?,â Newton replied.
By this time, the scene had drawn a crowd of onlookers. An officer told the bystanders to move on, but Newton shouted at them to stay. California law, he yelled, gave civilians a right to observe a police officer making an arrest, so long as they didnât interfere. Newton played it up for the crowd. In a loud voice, he told the police officers, âIf you try to shoot at me or if you try to take this gun, Iâm going to shoot back at you, swine.â Although normally a black man with Newtonâs attitude would quickly find himself handcuffed in the back of a police car, enough people had gathered on the street to discourage the officers from doing anything rash. Because they hadnât committed any crime, the Panthers were allowed to go on their way.
The people whoâd witnessed the scene were dumbstruck. Not even Bobby Seale could believe it. Right then, he said, he knew that Newton was the âbaddest motherfucker in the world.â
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