Yvette Nicole Brown

After Mike's killing, Leslie and her family were plunged into deep grief.

The days blurred together, the way they tend to do after a loss, with time standing still and rushing forward at the same time. Kiki remembers those dark days.

But while they were processing an unimaginable loss, a movement was starting. On August 10th, after a peaceful candlelight vigil, the first of several nights of unrest began.

Police officers showed up in riot gear to confront protesters. The next night, they fired rubber bullets and tear gas at the crowds. Leslie remembers it was impossible to escape what was going on outside because tear gas was literally seeping into her family's home.

Leslie remembers she and her family piled into the car that night, stopping to pick up her mom before heading to a downtown hotel. Nearby, tear gas hung in the air and armored police vehicles blocked streets.

The militarized display of force from police, sniper rifles, armored vehicles, flash grenades, and tear gas was stunning. Ferguson, with a population of 22,000 people, was more like a war zone than a small town. Some officers wore riot gear with shields, batons, and helmets. Others were decked out in army-style fatigues and body armor.

What was happening in Ferguson was a real-time representation of the police brutality happening in Black communities across the country, and it was igniting a budding movement, Black Lives Matter.

August 9, 2014 changed the world. Ferguson, Missouri was the epicenter of a movement, and Mike's name became a rallying cry for justice.

The protests, sparked by Mike's murder, were changing the way Americans talked about race and policing. It was no longer just a local issue. This was happening on a national level. Tensions were high, even reaching the White House. On August 12, just three days after Mike's killing, then-President Barack Obama issued a statement.

As the story made headlines across the country, protesters live-streamed clashes with police, and conspiracy theories flooded social media. Fake photos made the rounds, too, like one of a man holding a gun that people falsely claimed was Mike. Another photo supposedly showed that the officer had broken bones in his face. This was also a hoax.

Legacy media also spread false and unfair narratives about Mike, with the New York Times writing that he was, quote, "...no angel." All of this attention from the hateful rhetoric online to the support of protests was new to Leslie.

One task that loomed over her was picking out the clothes Mike Mike would be buried in.

Leslie remembers talking to Austin Lane, the funeral director, about how she wanted Mike to look.

The night before the funeral, Leslie and about 100 family members and friends gathered for a private viewing of Mike Mike before he would be laid to rest.

But there's another side to this story that unfolded. A Story of a Family's Profound Loss While protesters filled the streets and news crews documented every update, Leslie was living a mother's worst nightmare. How do you process the most devastating loss imaginable when the entire world is watching? How do you balance your private anguish with the weight of a movement born from your loss?

Leslie remembers seeing his body for the first time before anyone else. She hoped the funeral home had made Mike look like his picture, as if he was just asleep.

Mike Mike's funeral was held on August 25, 2014. The St. Louis Cardinals baseball cap couldn't go on his head because of the swelling. So Leslie placed it on top of his casket. She also wore red, his favorite color.

Over 4,500 mourners filled Friendly Temple Missionary Baptist Church in St. Louis. Among the attendees were civil rights leaders, celebrities, and representatives from the White House. Not everyone was simply paying their respects, though. Family, on Mike's dad's side, also showed up to sell merchandise with Mike's face on it. For Leslie, it was a slap in the face.

With everything going on, from organizing Mike's funeral to dealing with people trying to profit off her son, Leslie couldn't just grieve as a parent who had lost her firstborn. She found herself put into a role she never could have imagined and never asked for, a mother of the movement.

Leslie remembers sitting down for interviews at 4 or 5 in the morning, running on an hour of sleep. In just a couple of months, she appeared on ABC News, CBS Evening News, and the Steve Harvey Show, just to name a few. She even testified at the U.N. Every time, she had to recount August 9th over and over again.

Even so, these interviews were a way for Leslie to channel her pain into something positive, to support Mike, and to avoid stewing in sadness at home.

As she became a fixture on TV, Leslie started to get recognized.

From Lemonada Media and Campaign Zero, you're listening to Still My Baby. I'm Yvette Nicole Brown. You've heard versions of this defining moment in America, from the media, the police, and the protesters. But today, you're going to learn about it from the people closest to Mike, his mother Leslie, and his family.

That attention followed Leslie on social media, too. Strangers even posted false statements about Leslie's parenting. She remembers that all of the disrespect and hate started right away.

The hate and disrespect came at Leslie from all angles. Everything from lies intended to harm Mike's reputation to criticism of Leslie's hair color. That's right, her hair color.

Belinda, Leslie's longtime friend and co-worker at Straub's, remembers feeling protective of Leslie.

Away from the cameras, Leslie was doing everything she could to stay strong for her family, for Mike's three younger siblings, and for her husband, Louis. But at night, in her grief, she'd lay in the doorway of her bedroom waiting to feel Mike's presence.

That night was a turning point for Leslie.

She was in the fight. And as she witnessed more of the protesting happening in Ferguson and around the world, the cause became clearer.

The biggest protests were yet to come. On November 24, 2014, the grand jury would announce whether the officer who killed Mike would be indicted. Leading up to that day, there were conflicting stories circulating. Neighbors who saw the shooting said Mike had his hands up at the time he was murdered. Meanwhile, the online smear campaign ramped up.

It contradicted those accounts, with people saying that Mike never had his hands up and that he had acted aggressively. Ferguson police also painted Mike as a criminal. They released security footage purporting to show Mike and his friend stealing from a convenience store on August 9th.

With the video's release, they shifted public attention away from both the officer that murdered Mike and the ongoing police violence against protesters. Despite everything, Leslie and the protesters held on to hope that the truth of what happened would lead to real justice. They had this hope because President Barack Obama made a statement of support. And Eric Holder, the first Black U.S.

Attorney General, met with Mike's family personally.

It all made Leslie feel like this case mattered to the country and to the people in charge. That night, Leslie and her family gathered in a hotel room holding hands in prayer. Then the news came. The St. Louis County prosecutor, Bob McCullough, announced that the grand jury decided not to indict after all.

Protests flared that night, and Leslie and her husband Louis joined people in the streets. In a cell phone video, you can see them, surrounded by the crowd. In response to the lack of indictment, Leslie sobbed and exclaimed, they don't care. Next to her, Louis was angry at the injustice, and he expressed it as well. The media chose to fixate on Leslie and Lewis's reactions.

August 9, 2014 was a typical Saturday for Leslie at Straub's, the upscale grocery store she worked at for years. While she was on break around lunchtime, she stepped outside to take a call from a coworker.

When crowds that night burned buildings, looted businesses, and clashed with police, they were unfairly blamed and held responsible for the most destructive actions of the protesters.

What Lewis recognized was something deeper than one night. It was long, simmering pain extending far beyond Ferguson's borders, across the country.

All of the family members in that chain were hit hard with heartbreak. And though Leslie was awash in her own grief, she felt the weight of everyone else's too.

It was especially difficult for Mike's younger siblings, Deja, Andre, and Jasmine. In those days, Leslie advised her kids to stay close to the house because she feared for their safety. Family members like Kiki saw how tough this was for them.

Leslie asked him to look out for Mike Mike when he was spending time over on Canfield Drive at his grandma's house. Mario promised he would.

Mike's little brother Andre was also processing everything in his own way. Even though he was only nine years old, he has a clear memory of his first day back at school that fall.

The kindness from his teacher made a big impact on Andre, but those big feelings he was having, he said he had to tamp those down to get through each day, becoming quieter and more reserved.

The effects of Mike Mike's death spread throughout the family, hitting Leslie's cousin Eric especially hard. He and his kids had been very close with Mike.

After Mike's murder, Eric took time off of work to support Leslie. He remembers the disbelief he felt at that time.

The loss hit Eric's children hard.

That's the thing about a loss like this. The effects are so far-reaching. It devastated a family, a community, and a country. Three years after Mike's murder, in 2017, Leslie and Mike's dad settled their wrongful death lawsuit against the city of Ferguson, Missouri. It argued that Officer Darren Wilson used excessive force and unjustifiably shot and killed Mike. They got some money from the city.

Plus, Leslie continued to receive offers for paid appearances and speaking engagements. But none of it really mattered to her. In her mind, it didn't have to happen this way. The pitiful acknowledgement that was too little too late, her family's sudden fame, these weren't things she ever asked for. She still hadn't received any justice for Mike Mike.

And all Leslie wanted was for life to go back to how it used to be, when he was alive.

It would take time for Leslie to get there. In the grand scheme of things, this was just the beginning of her journey through grief, a private loss that had become a public symbol of resistance. So what does life look like after your child's death changes the world?

Next week, we'll follow Leslie's path after the protests quieted down and the cameras disappeared and see how she's navigating the long road of healing while continuing to fight for justice. Thanks for listening to Steal My Baby. Now is a great time to subscribe to Lemonada Premium. You'll get bonus content like unheard clips from Leslie and some of her closest friends.

Just hit the subscribe button on Apple Podcasts or for all other podcast apps, head to LemonadaPremium.com to subscribe. That's LemonadaPremium.com. Still My Baby is a Lemonada original podcast series created in collaboration with Campaign Zero, a nonprofit organization that develops data-driven policy solutions to end police violence in America.

Learn more about this series and the work of Campaign Zero and the Michael O.D. Brown We Love Our Sons and Daughters Foundation at www.stillmybaby.org. I'm your host, Yvette Nicole Brown. Lisa Fu is our lead producer. This episode was produced by Hannah Boomerschein. Bobby Woody and Ivan Korayev are our audio engineers. Story editing by Jackie Danziger, our VP of Partnerships and Production.

Production support by Moona Danish. Our music is by Hannes Brown and APM. Executive producers are Stephanie Whittles-Wax, Jessica Cordova-Kramer, and Leslie McSpadden. Series consulting and editorial support by our partners at Campaign Zero, DeRay McKesson and Rachel Hislop. With additional support from Jaron Longmire, Kelly Davis, and Kiana Ford.

If you like the show and you believe what we're doing is important, please help others find us by leaving us a rating and writing a review. And most importantly, tell your friends. Follow Still My Baby wherever you get your podcasts or listen ad-free on Amazon Music with your Prime membership. Thank you for listening. We'll be back next week.

Her co-worker Erica offered to drive her to Canfield.

It was bumper to bumper traffic all along I-70.

Neighbors and other onlookers stood in the vicinity. Then she spotted a familiar face.

Leslie saw yellow tape around the white sheet on the ground and a police officer in blue standing in front. She ran up to him.

Leslie's firstborn child was lying lifeless in the street, not even fully covered by the white sheet. Nothing would ever be the same. Meanwhile, word was spreading throughout Ferguson and the surrounding area. Leslie's friends and family, the people who loved Mike fiercely, were learning what happened. One by one, they stopped what they were doing and headed to Canfield.

Andre, Mike's brother and Leslie's youngest son, was one of the many family members that arrived on the scene on Canfield, along with his sister, Deja. Even though it was over a decade ago, he remembers it vividly. He wasn't even 10 years old yet.

In time, the family would learn the story of what happened earlier that day. According to confirmed sources, Mike and his friend were walking in the street when they were approached by Officer Darren Wilson in his police vehicle. He told them to move onto the sidewalk. Things escalated, leading to an altercation. The officer fired two shots, hitting Mike in the hand.

Mike and his friend began to run away. The officer shot six more times, and Mike, who was unarmed, stopped and turned around. The officer fired again, killing him. Later, eyewitnesses reached out to Leslie to tell her what they saw that day. Out of the many stories she heard, often conflicting accounts, one in particular really stuck with her. It was from a construction worker.

He told Leslie that what he saw that day was haunting him, affecting his sleep, his marriage, and his job.

On August 9th, Mike's body laid in the street for over four hours. At first, uncovered, exposed to the hot summer sun. All the while, the crowd continued to grow.

Leslie's cousin Kiki remembers when tensions between the growing crowd and police started to escalate even further.

Leslie and Mike's relatives continued to plead with the officers for information and begged to be allowed past the tape to get closer to Mike's body. But the police gave them nothing, and the hours crept on.

It would be four and a half hours before police removed Mike's body from the street and placed him in a dark SUV.

All of this pain washed over the family.

In the days and weeks that followed August 9th, the ripple effects of change spread outward from Ferguson and across the world. Mike's name would become world known. And it was just the beginning of Leslie's grief journey and the collective fight for justice. That's after the break.

And she's got a spine of steel. Yes. And she's also been a black woman in America a very long time. So none of this is new to her. We're mad because we're tired of it. We're mad for her. We're mad for her. And we're going to stand. Listen, I don't know how you hear, but I'm happy you're here. I'm happy.

She does not have time to hear all these reporters. And she is also not mayor of every municipality in California. We have fires every year. And I don't remember in the 30 years almost that I've lived in L.A., I've never seen somebody, everybody react like this to the mayor and blame one person for a natural disaster. Yes. I've never seen it. Now, what's different this time? Interesting, isn't it?

You said that.

It's been really important for the DWP to put an equity lens on everything. Yes.