On a humid July night in 1981, 22-year-old Ernest Lacy was detained by police officers in a violent confrontation that ended with his death. Events of that evening spiraled from a coroner’s inquest into a political and civic battleground where the city’s angry Black community squared off against combative Police Chief Harold A Brier.
More than four decades later, the confrontation on a street corner, images of a handcuffed man convulsing while officers applied restraint, and the unanswered questions about why medical aid was delayed still reverberate in Milwaukee’s mid-city neighborhoods.
Ernest Lacy was described as a young man who earned money by working odd jobs that came up via family and friends. He suffered from mental health issues that may have included schizophrenia. A psychiatrist at the Milwaukee County Mental Health Complex confirmed Lacy was admitted twice and received outpatient service on three other occasions. His mother Myrtle said her son was not a criminal, but a person whose behavior could be bewildering to strangers.
On July 9, 1981, Lacy took a break from painting an apartment to go the nearby Open Pantry convenience store. Three Milwaukee police officers from the tactical squad stopped him at the intersection of N. 23rd St. and W. Wisconsin Ave while combing the neighborhood for a rape suspect. Lacy started to flee but was handcuffed and forced to the pavement by officer George Kalt. Eyewitnesses later said when the officer planted a knee on Lacy’s back or neck, he began struggling and convulsing as if he was having a seizure.
Two officers loaded Lacy into the back of a police van and returned to the scene. Another rape suspect already in the van noted Lacy did not appear to be breathing. He told the policemen Lacy needed immediate emergency medical attention. EMT personnel could not restore Lacy’s heartbeat, and he was pronounced dead at a nearby hospital.
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Racial Tensions
As residents of a city already strained by longstanding racial tensions and disputes over police behavior expressed shock and outrage, an official coroner’s inquest was already underway. In his testimony, Chief Medical Examiner Chesley P. Erwin said the amount of restraint exerted on the handcuffed man caused an interruption of oxygen to Lacy’s brain. It was the failure to call for immediate medical attention that hastened Lacy’s death.
Pathologist Robert W. Huntington III demonstrated how pressure applied to Lacy’s back compressed his chest and made it impossible to pull oxygen into his lungs. The jury recommended criminal charges, including reckless homicide, against officers George Kalt, Thomas Eliopul and James Dekker. For many in the city’s Black community and for activists who had turned Lacy’s death into a cause, the inquest’s finding was vindication that something had gone terribly wrong and that police conduct, not some unavoidable medical event, had ended Ernest Lacy’s life. A judge set a personal bond of $5,000 for each officer and prominent Milwaukee criminal defense attorney Gerald P. Boyle, was engaged to handle the individual cases. Controversial attorney Alan Eisenberg represented the Lacy family.
The rage from Milwaukee’s Black community became a tidal wave of fury that recalled decades of demeaning stop‑and‑frisk encounters as well as unequal treatment in court. Thousands turned out for marches and rallies that condemned police brutality. Chants, placards, candlelight vigils, and marches came from people who felt marginalized by city institutions. Dr. Howard Fuller’s “Coalition for Justice for Ernest Lacy” demanded to “have those three cops charged with murder.” Others wanted investigations made public to prevent suppression of the real story.
Conflicting Testimony
Protesters packed inquest hearings to standing room only status as attorneys attacked conflicting testimony from police department officials, eyewitnesses and medical experts. Tactical squad officers Kalt, Eliopul, and Dekker insisted they acted within police department procedure in an attempt to restrain a suspect. Their testimony given under oath was limited to “I don't know” answers. The district attorney wouldn’t take the murder case to court despite incontrovertible proof culled from inquest testimonies, eyewitness accounts and physical evidence.
Although internal police disciplinary actions led to suspensions for some officers and job loss for at least one, the lack of criminal convictions left Lacy’s family and many other community leaders dissatisfied. Civil litigation and settlement discussions followed, and at least one monetary settlement with the city was reached. Critics said a financial settlement did not equal justice. Standing in the middle of the race-fueled war was the iron-fisted Police Chief Harold Breier who was adamantly opposed to any civil rights activities in the city. In 1958, the local Black community criticized Brier of covering up the death of 22-year-old Daniel Bell. In the 1960s, Breier conducted surveillances of civil right groups he didn’t like and ordered his officers to jail group members for minor offenses such as littering or jaywalking.
Brier retired in 1984 and the Milwaukee Police Department underwent revisions of training for officers, policy updates and the occasional disciplinary measures. But critics maintained that subsequent officer accountability did not match the severity of outcomes. For a generation of Milwaukee residents, Lacy’s name called to mind the ongoing conflict between law enforcement and Black neighborhoods. Annual commemorations and renewed protests against police brutality ensured that Lacy’s death remained part of the city’s civic conversation.
