For three agonizing months, L.M., a Black teenager, sat behind bars in a Kansas City juvenile detention facility, accused of a crime he did not commit. He was charged with second-degree murder, attempted motor vehicle theft, and armed criminal action in connection to the killing of Shaun Brady, a beloved local chef and co-owner of Brady & Fox Restaurant and Lounge.
But after months of trauma and terror, the Jackson County Family Court quietly dropped the charges, admitting they had “got the wrong kid.”
A Rush to Judgment: KCPD’s Violent Racial Profiling in Action
On August 28, Shaun Brady was fatally shot behind his restaurant after attempting to intervene with two teenagers allegedly attempting to steal a car. Brady’s death sent shockwaves through Kansas City’s business community, particularly in Brookside, where his restaurant was a community staple.
Within days, Kansas City Police arrested L.M. and another teen, K.H., pinning the murder on them with what appears to have been little more than a hasty effort to calm public outrage.
Scott Lauck, a spokesman for the Jackson County Family Court, confirmed that all charges against L.M. were dropped but declined to provide further details, citing the court’s jurisdiction over juvenile matters.
Meanwhile, Kansas City Police Department spokesman Sgt. Phillip DiMartino said only that the case remains an open investigation. Neither the police nor the court offered a meaningful explanation for why a teenager was wrongfully accused, incarcerated, and ripped away from his family for months.
“What I’m saying is they got the wrong kid,” L.M.’s defense attorney, Matthew Merryman, stated bluntly. “You know this case generated a ton of local and international attention and when the public outrage is so high,” Merryman said, “there is a rush to find someone and hold them accountable. Here there was a rush to judgment and L.M. was just the first Black kid they found to pin that judgment on.”
Merryman described the ordeal as an excruciating journey for L.M. and his family. “He was ripped away from his family, his intramural sports, his school, and job opportunities,” Merryman said.
“Get Your Child Before I Have To”: How Dangerous Rhetoric Targets Black Youth
The case against L.M. rested on flimsy evidence, and public officials have provided no accountability for how this grave error occurred, or what will be done to KCPD to rectify it.
Instead, the Kansas City Police Department and the court have offered little more than a collective shrug, while the prosecutor-elect, Melesa Johnson, fanned the flames of criminalizing rhetoric.
Following the arrests, the incoming Prosecutor-elect declared in a scathing Instagram video, “To the parents of these juveniles, listen, don’t be mad at me, because I’m giving you a chance to get your child before I have to, because you don’t want me in the equation.”
The horrifying violence that L.M. endured was no isolated incident, rather, it served as a prime example of how Kansas City’s criminal legal system operates.
Black people make up nearly 70% of the city’s jail population, despite being roughly 25% of its residents. If L.M. hadn’t had access to a robust legal defense, he would without a doubt still be sitting in that cell, branded a murderer and facing the prospect of spending the rest of his life in prison.
How Many More? The Silent Epidemic of Black Kids Lost to the System
How many Black boys and men are still in jails because of these racist practices of KCPD, we must ask ourselves? It’s a haunting question—and one that should make every Kansas Citian reconsider the narratives they’ve been incessantly barraged with about public safety and justice.
This case also highlights the urgency of abolitionist movements in Kansas City. Organizations like Decarcerate KC, Operation Liberation, and Reale Justice Network have long sounded the alarm about the dangers of criminalizing rhetoric and the inherent racism of policing, which originally began as slave patrol.
These organizations are calling for alternatives to incarceration and vehemently oppose the construction of the proposed new $800 million jail, which would be sure to exacerbate such injustices and make them even more commonplace.
While L.M. is now home, his youth and childhood have been ravaged by a torment that can never be undone. The fear, isolation, and despair he experienced during his wrongful incarceration are immeasurable, and even some monetary payout would be little justice for what he experienced.
For every L.M. who makes it out, countless others remain trapped in a system designed to destroy them.
The police may say, “Our bad,” but this is not just about them. Politicians, public figures, and even members of the Black bourgeoisie who parrot criminalizing rhetoric all share responsibility for the violence inflicted on our children.
This is why abolition is not just an ideal but a necessity. It is a call to dismantle the systems that dehumanize, cage, and brutalize our people. And it’s a demand for a world where no more children are ripped from their families and criminalized for simply existing.
