Dear LAPD,

We’re Not Done with You Yet.

You shot a journalist on live television. You struck another in the forehead while he was standing alone under a freeway. You sent one man into emergency surgery after punching a hole in his leg with a “less-lethal” round. You bruised a New York Times reporter’s ribcage. You gassed a foreign correspondent while she was wearing a press badge. You shot a 74-year-old woman in the back. You nailed a man in the chest with a 40mm grenade while he was holding a phone. And you left a woman bleeding from the skull in the middle of the street while people begged your officers to call an ambulance—and they didn’t.

And now you're "investigating."

This is a public warning—not the kind your tactical goons give, with chest armor and foam rounds and dead eyes behind mirrored shields. No. This is a journalistic warning. You no longer get to control the narrative.

Closer to the Edge has completed a full, verified investigation of eight people injured by law enforcement during the protests in Los Angeles. Seven were journalists. One was a protester. All of them were harmed under your watch.

We are publishing their stories. One at a time. With verified quotes. With real names. With witness footage, medical updates, and your own damn statements when available. You told the public you’re investigating? Then we’ll do it faster, better, and with the one thing your officers seem allergic to: accountability.

Let’s preview what’s coming:

Lauren Tomasi was broadcasting live when the LAPD rode in on horseback. One of your officers lifted his weapon, aimed, fired, and struck her in the leg. “I got hit,” she said, her cameraman taking cover. The clip went global. The Prime Minister of Australia called it “horrific.” You told reporters you were “reviewing the footage.” That was the extent of it. She walked it off. We won’t.

Toby Canham was standing alone under a freeway overpass, filming with a tripod. He was not part of any crowd. A CHP officer shot him in the forehead. “Fuck, I just got shot in the head,” he yelled, the camera still rolling. He suffered whiplash and a hematoma. He told reporters, “I was the only person standing overlooking the freeway. I was an easy target.” And that’s exactly what you made him.

Nick Stern was hit in the leg by a 14-millimeter sponge round fired at close range. He collapsed. He was hospitalized and required surgery to remove the round from his thigh. He nearly passed out from blood loss. “I couldn’t walk. They had to carry me into the ER,” he said. He was on assignment, camera in hand. The only riot was what you unleashed on his body.

Livia Albeck-Ripka of The New York Times was struck just below the ribs. “It was pretty intense, instant pain,” she said. “I just have a nasty bruise. I’m lucky.” You haven’t even acknowledged that she was struck. Not publicly. Not once. You shot a reporter for the paper of record and didn’t even offer a press release.

Lauren Day was tear-gassed and struck with pepper rounds while reporting for Australia’s ABC network. Her cameraman was hit in the chest. “The fact that you’re press is no protection,” she said. Her face burned. Her throat swelled. She called it “a really shocking thing to experience in a democracy.” We call it cowardice with a badge.

Kimie Saito is 74 years old. She was covering a protest in Paramount for the World Socialist Web Site when officers shot her in the back with a rubber bullet. “I felt something hit my back,” she said. Her report is detailed, credible, and the only one of its kind. Not a single other media outlet has asked about her. But we will.

Sergio Olmos was filming with his iPhone when officers struck him in the chest with a 40mm sponge grenade. “I got hit in the chest and it’s a moment of, ‘What the fuck?’” he told CalMatters. “It was the most amount of less-lethals I’ve seen used in a single-day protest.” He’s been to war zones. This was worse. He said the police presence in L.A. was “like a civil war.”

And then there’s the unnamed woman protester. We still don’t know her name. But we’ve seen the footage: blood pouring from her skull, her body slumped on the pavement while people scream for help. “Call an ambulance! She’s bleeding!” they shout at your officers. You did nothing. Not one officer rendered aid. Not one officer called in medics. You formed a perimeter around a bleeding woman and stood there like statues—armed, armored, and useless.

We’re not forgetting any of them. You don’t get to disappear this.

Your “investigation” is a press strategy, not a pursuit of truth. Ours is public. Ours is exact. And when we publish these stories—one by one—you’ll feel every line like a direct hit. Not from a sponge round, but from the kind of weapon you fear most: documented, relentless, factual truth.

We don’t carry sponge grenades.

We carry quotes.

And we do not miss.

See you tomorrow.

Closer to the Edge

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