10 GROUNDCOVER NEWS POLICE Sword vs. SWAT WHAT'S LEFT YPSI It’s 3 p.m. on a winter afternoon — Jan. 5, 2026. The Ypsilanti sky shines behind rolling clouds and a battalion occupies the streets a few blocks away. Walking through Normal Park on Wallace toward Cross: police tape, flashing lights, a giant surveillance tower and 50 police cars — Eastern Michigan University Police Department, Livingston County Sheriff, Ypsilanti PD, Shiawassee County Sheriff, Plymouth PD, Howell PD, Michigan State Police, Livingston County SWAT (Special Weapons and Tactics), Washtenaw County Sheriff, Washtenaw County SWAT, and a gigantic vehicle the size of a mobile home which features six cameras and a TV tuned to one block away. A neighbor is walking their dog diagonally through the gross display. Smiling soldiers toy with their shiny devices, and tall bureaucrats linger in long coats and big frowns. Three men with machine guns walk past you. Barricade. Smells of sulfur and gasoline. What can you do? There are no answers here. Around the corner is a small tank — “Armored Critical Incident Vehicle.” There is a crane. There is a “hydraulic breaching ram.” There is at least one firetruck with a gigantic hose attachment strong enough to peel drywall. There are men with “riot control” weapons at their fingertips who haven’t slept all night. There are two residents being tackled and detained by some of these men. And there is one person with a katana sword whose domicile is being torn apart piece by piece who is having a very, very bad day. In a 32-hour event ending late the evening of Jan. 5, a phonebook of police jurisdictions took part in a violent and humiliating removal of an Ypsilanti man from his upstairs living space in a house on W. Cross St. After multiple wellness checks by police and mental health professionals in the week leading up to this event, police were called to the scene of a man banging on a neighbor’s door with an object. When they arrived, the man was back in his apartment. He is accused of charging the police with a sword after they knocked on his door. Throughout the night of Jan. 4 and into the next day, SWAT and police used dozens of teargas bombs, flashbangs, an LRAD (Long Range Acoustic Device) noise weapon, a hydraulic battering ram attached to a crane, and a firehose to try and remove the man from his residence, creating a vivid scene of psychological brutality against one person—and the whole blockaded neighborhood, the whole city, the whole county paid for it. Ypsilanti Meals on Wheels was forced to halt programming that day; the church they work out of housed snipers instead. 250 families didn’t get meals that day. Normal Park residents were stopped from normal life, some blocked from returning home, others prevented from using their cars and accessing clean and quiet air. All while forced to bear witness to a public annihilation of their neighbor—the county residents got to see what their money funds. Washtenaw County, our incredible home: willing and capable of great destruction. How did this happen? Why do we have this arsenal of weaponry and mercenaries but no homeless shelter in Ypsi open year round? Next to no park bathrooms, public transit, or recreation centers? How did we get here, how did our neighbor get here, and how did banging on the downstairs ceiling transform into this fantastic spectacle of brutality? What would have happened if skilled unarmed de-escalation professionals had worked on this until they had a solution? Questions abound. Of course, the common person is not supported at all in this country. What happened earlier this week is a caricature of what has happened and will happen to many of us: state-sanctioned removal when we finally break. Because as it turns out, this all started with an inability to pay rent. Local pastor, director of FedUp Ministries, and community organizer Anna Taylor-McCants has familiarity with these events and people closest to the situation, and What’s Left asked her to help us understand what had happened: What’s Left: Thanks for talking with us, Anna. What do you know about the lead up to this incident? Rev. Anna Taylor-McCants: It seems like the tenant was down on his luck which took a toll on his mental health, dating back to the summer. The people who knew him seemed really sad about his declining mental health, and they wanted to be sure he was safe when he stopped returning text messages. He was facing eviction, and after he missed his court date someone close to him called for a mental health check. WL: What do you know about the incident itself? ATM: I know what I saw from observing on-scene for multiple hours. The excessive reaction to this man’s mental health crisis resulted in trauma for so many people. Military gear on civilian streets, expanding barricades, a standoff for 30 hours — it was all too much. JANUARY 9, 2026 Above: Crisis negotiator wears uniform hat with sword emblem. Below: Normal Park neighbors mobilize to Washtenaw Board of Commissioners Jan. 7 meeting to speak out. Photos by Emily Mills. I am so so grateful that our neighbor did not lose his life. But he deserved better and so did our community. WL: How do you think things could have gone differently? ATM: Oof, this is a hard question to answer. Certain things should have never occurred on the scene, period. The use of military equipment and people with guns on people who are in a mental health crisis is horrific and should not happen. Things could also have gone differently if the gentlemen in crisis had received mental health services for the months leading up to the incident. He was on a decline; he had people who cared. My only thought is that resources weren’t as available/accessible as we’d like to think they are. WL: What do you want to see come out of this? ATM: I’d like to see our leaders — all elected officials across municipalities and agencies — begin to work together instead of placing blame on each other. Coming together to truly address needs like mental health, eviction, housing, homelessness, and more is one of the ways we will grow stronger together. WL: Have you ever witnessed a mil- itarized response to a mental health issue on this level? ATM: I was in seminary when clergy were called to bear witness in Charlottesville. I drove for hours during my summer Greek class to hold vigil with those present. Other than that, never. WL: What is one thing neighbors can do to practice community care in the wake of this incident? ATM: To care for ourselves: Have a list of resources ready if and when you ever need it. The list may be for a close friend, but we’re all only a couple of steps away from needing help ourselves. Know who to call when you need extra support, and practice reaching out before things get hard. To care for each other — continue checking in on those you love. Ask hard questions. Notice when your people are struggling and don’t be afraid to take off your shoes and sit in the pew alongside them. Sometimes all we need is a witness (and sometimes we need more). One thing I know: isolation kills. WL: Anything else that's been on your mind regarding this? ATM: I believe our Community Mental Health office needs to review its database of calls. In my experience as a pastor, every time I’ve called CMH in Ypsilanti the police show up alongside the CMH workers. When I pastored in Ann Arbor, the police never showed up for a single call I made to CMH. Do our helping agencies view people in crisis in Ypsilanti as more dangerous than Ann Arbor? We need to take a hard look at patterns in our community mental health services and learn where we are failing and need to do things differently. Published in partnership with What's Left Ypsilanti.
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