🚰 Good morning, RVA: Violent law enforcement, water & sewer, and learning about Richmond

Good morning, RVA! It’s 29 °F right now, but, by this afternoon, we’ll see temperatures in the mid 60s. Today, tomorrow, and Saturday all look incredible, and I’m already starting to pencil in Forest Time on my calendar. I hope you can find the time to enjoy it, too.
 

Water cooler

Seven Henrico County Sheriff’s deputies have been charged with second-degree murder. Earlier this month, the deputies were transferring a person suffering a mental health crisis to a hospital and, in the process, held him down “on the floor for 12 minutes while he was shackled and handcuffed, eventually ‘smothering him to death.’” Mark Bowes at the Richmond Times-Dispatch has more details (content warning: graphic descriptions of violence committed by law enforcement officers). This situation reads like a horrific combination of the murders of George Floyd and Marcus-David Peters. Clearly the policies and reforms we’ve put in place since those two deaths are not nearly enough to keep people safe—especially people in need of help.
 

Big, big news for users of the Capital Trail: “The Four Mile Creek Trailhead will soon have restroom facilities and water. Construction will start on the water and sewer approximately on March 20th, 2023, and last an estimated 90 days.” Chugs a full Nalgene of water in celebration. If you’re unfamiliar, Four Mile Creek is a typical turnaround spot for folks looking to put in a 35ish-mile round trip bike ride from Richmond. It’s also an excellent place to drive out, park your car, and experience some of the Capital Trail segments east of the City (which are really beautiful). I’m glad Henrico County has decided to run water out there—dehydrated bikers, walkers, and rollers thank you from the bottom of our empty water bottles!
 

Turns out, people have a lot of feelings about John Marshall basketball and how they routinely crush opposing teams by 40, 50, or even 60 points. John Marshall, because of the small size of its student body, sits in VHSL’s “Class 2” and can only compete against other similarly small schools. Marshall could petition to move up to a larger class and face teams with more resources and (theoretically) better players, but it would have to move up in every other sport at the school, too. It’s complicated, and Zach Joachim at the RTD reports on just a few of the issues. I’m not sure how you solve these problems—or even if they’re problems at all—but I am interested in this idea about implementing a promotion/relegation system like what’s found in the Premier League: “if a school like John Marshall is so successful in a given classification, could a system be set up where points are awarded for success at state tournaments, leading to that school moving up classifications?”
 

Tonight at 6:00 PM, STAY RVA will host one of their STAY Chats (this one in-person at Elwood Thompson’s) and will feature two Richmond mainstays: Art Burton and Rev. Ben Campbell. They’ll discuss “the history of Richmond and the policies that have shaped the current education climate.” This is a great opportunity—featuring two big brains!—to learn about why we are the way we are and what we can do to work on some of the systemic issues preventing progress. The event is free, but you should register over on the Eventbrite.
 

Via /r/rva, here’s an excellent picture of the river, the train bridge, and the setting sun.
 

This morning’s longread

Ms. Petersen Went Up the Mountain Herself

Anne Helen Petersen writes about being alone—not in a lonely way, but in a fun, refreshing, restorative way. The lusciousness, to use Petersen’s word, of being alone really hit for me over the pandemic with bikes. There’s just something really wonderful about getting out by yourself, at your own place, headed toward a destination of your own choosing—or headed no where specific at all!
 

And so, last week, I drove myself up the mountain. The roads were clear and, at this point, familiar. It was a bluebird day, windless and sun-warmed; the snow was good but not spectacular. I started out uneasy and wondered, on that second ride up the lift, if all of it had been a mistake. But I got my legs and started playing over in the trees, exploring corners of the mountain where I’d never been. I skied fast and playful. I made up little songs on the lift but mostly just noticed the world around me. When I got hungry, I went into the lodge and realized, for the first time, just how many others were there on their own as well. It’s wonderful to ski with others — to wait, to compare runs, to follow — but there’s a lusciousness, too, to navigating the mountain and the entire experience on your own.
 

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Picture of the Day

Parties in 2023: COVID-19 tests and seltzers.