Man Walks From NYC To Montauk To Protest Police Brutality

LONG ISLAND, NY — If every journey begins with a single step, Leon Goodman, 69, a retired human resources professional from Bay Shore, has embarked upon the walk of a lifetime to protest police brutality.

Goodman is in the midst of a silent protest, a walk that began in New York City and will end in Montauk, spanning the whole of Long Island, to send a message about police shootings.

He began last week at the 59th Street Bridge in Manhattan and will walk to the Montauk Lighthouse — on Friday, he will begin in Mastic and end up in Westhampton — to express his despair "over the senseless loss of lives mourned by the Black community at the hands of law enforcement."

The walk began on October 1 and is slated to last until October 14, with Goodman covering about 10 to 15 miles per day. Each day, he begins at the Long Island Rail Road, taking the train to the stop where he ended the night before, and walking about 10 or more miles to his next stop, before heading back on the train.

Goodman, speaking with Patch, said that he worked for the MTA in New York City for decades; he grew up in segregated Virginia during the 1950s "when beatings, and lynchings were what Black people could expect if they dared to challenge the Jim Crow laws. Black people experienced discrimination at their jobs or when they tried to buy a house or get an education," he said. "Even though all Americans had gained the right to vote, many southern states made it difficult for Black citizens. They often required prospective voters of color to take literacy tests that were confusing, misleading and nearly impossible to pass."

And now, he said, Black people must come together to speak out against police brutality. His walk, he said, is "not anti-police," but instead, a message that acts of brutality cannot be ignored and police officers who commit them must face consequences.

“Police killings have become a pandemic of sorts and the senseless and mindless brutality towards our people has got to end," he said.

Goodman cited statistics: "Based on published data, Black people are up to 3.5 times more likely than whites to be killed by law enforcement; one in every 1,000 Black men will die at the hands of police," he said. "I am scared for my children. I am scared for my grandchildren. I am scared for my great grandchildren. I am scared for myself, since I have also been racially profiled by the police."

That incident, he said, took place one night when he was leaving the LIRR with 10 to 12 other commuters and crossed the street to the overflow lot. He was the only Black man — and the only person stopped by an officer while leaving the lot.

When Goodman asked the officer why he didn't pull over the others, he was told: "Shut your god---- mouth, stop being a smart-a--; give me your god------ license and registration.' I will never forget it. When he found I had no violations, he made me sit there for 45 minutes as punishment."

And, Goodman said, he walks for those who those can no longer walk to defend themselves.

"I am silently protesting and walking for Eric Garner, Michael Brown, Tamir Rice, Walter Scott, Alton Sterling, Trayvon Martin, Philando Castile, Stephon Clark, Sandra Bland, Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, and George Floyd, amongst others," he said. "Are you listening? Do you hear us?"

Ironically, Goodman said, he does not normally walk long distances. "But once I made up my mind that I was going to do this, one of the things I decided to do was to see how my body would hold up to that kind of intense activity."

He practiced for three to four days in a row, walking 6.5 miles every morning, he said.

Goodman said he was moved to action after watching, and reading, media reports of the protests and demonstrations after George Floyd's death. "All I heard about was the violence, the burning of the stores. The message that protestors were trying to convey was not heard. That's when I made up my mind to do something."

And, he said, his granddaughter is 27, almost the same age as Breonna Taylor, 26. "Technically, that could have been my granddaughter," he said.

One thing he wants to make clear, he said: "This is not a silent protest march against police. This is a silent march against acts of police brutality. Being a policeman in a police department should not be all-encompassing. Police departments have to be responsible for policing their own. Just because they are police does not mean they shouldn't be punished or held accountable. That's part of my message to people."

Along the way, during his seven days of walking so far, Goodman said he's met many people and seen the demographics and composition of many neighborhoods from Queens, to Merrick, to Valley Stream, to Baldwin.

"I got to see how the communities viewed each other. In the Caucasian communities, I kept seeing 'Back the Blue' and 'Blue Lives Matter' signs," he said. "And what dawned on me was, when you say 'Back the Blue' and 'Blue Lives Matter', are you saying 'regardless?' Is it all encompassing, and does it mean 'regardless?'"

Walking through Seaford, a woman was yelling "Blue Lives Matter" at Goodman, who always wears a "Black Lives Matter" T-shirt and hat. While he was hoping to have a conversation with the woman, who had children in her van, she hit the gas and drove off, he said.

Communication and conversation are key, Goodman said.

"I'm not trying to tell you that you're right or wrong, because I think I'm right and I'm the only one that can have an opinion," Goodman said. "But the only way we are going to change things is if we agree to disagree — and if we agree to listen."

His walk is for the voiceless, Goodman said, for Tamir Rice, who was 12 years old and had a toy gun when he was shot dead in a park in Ohio. For Taylor. For Floyd, he said.

One man, a biker, got into a conversation with Goodman about the victims of police brutality and said, "If they had just complied, they would still be alive." Goodman brought up the "disparate treatment" between Black and White individuals charged with crimes.

"That's why I'm doing this silent protest," he said. "That's what this walk is doing for me — crystallizing the kinds of things we normally all see in our daily lives, and walk right past them."

To prepare for his walk, Goodman contacted local authorities to ensure he followed all rules for the journey.

He's met organizers of Black Lives Matters events on the East End including Lisa Votino and Willie Jenkins, who are lending support, Goodman said. "They have been so helpful to me," he said.

Every morning, along with posting a Facebook Live about his journey, Goodman prays. "I pray for guidance, and for God to give me strength, to fortify me. Because not everyone will agree with me. But I'm really hoping people will join me."

If people choose to join the walk, Goodman asks that they remain silent and wear "Black Lives Matter" apparel.

Along the way, Goodman has met some who have renewed his mission: One woman he met told Goodman words that resonate still: "She said, 'Light one candle at a time.' It was so profound. That's what I'm trying to do."