A Decade After Jamar Clark’s Death, New Report Challenges Police Account
- Rebecca Gilbuena
- 5 days ago
- 5 min read
Ten years ago today, 24-year-old Jamar Clark was shot in the head and killed by Minneapolis police officers Mark Ringgenberg and Dustin Schwarze. His death ignited weeks of protest outside the Fourth Precinct and became a defining moment in Minneapolis’ reckoning with police violence.
A decade later, no officer has faced discipline or charges, and Jamar’s mother, Irma Burns, says her grief and her fight for accountability remain as heavy as ever.
“Every day is a struggle,” Irma said. “You look around and he’s not there. It’s kind of hard to get over that when you’re so used to it.”
A New Review, Familiar Failures
A new report by The Reinvestigation Workgroup sifts through the case evidence with fresh eyes. The group’s findings challenge the official narrative given by police, prosecutors, and federal investigators.
“Our goal is to prove that official police narrative,” said the Workgroup. “If what they said happened happened, then the facts should be there to back it up.”
The report concludes that key claims made by authorities were false or unsupported, including assertions that Jamar had assaulted his girlfriend and was interfering with paramedics when police arrived. In reality, the report says, the woman, RayAnn Hayes, told investigators that Jamar was not her boyfriend and had not injured her. She had twisted her ankle earlier in the night while breaking up a fight at a party.
Ambulance footage also contradicts police reports, showing a calm Jamar peering into the ambulance to check on Hayes, not interfering with medical care as police claimed.
Conflicting Accounts of the Shooting
The workgroup’s review of forensic evidence suggests Jamar may have been shot while restrained or otherwise unable to pose a threat. “Our review of the forensic evidence and interviews casts serious doubt on the officers’ narrative that Jamar was grabbing for an officers’ gun,” said the Workgroup.
Key findings:
Most eyewitnesses reported Jamar was not physically resisting but was verbally defiant, repeatedly saying “fuck you” to officers. No witnesses reported hearing Officer Mark Ringgenberg shout that Jamar had his gun or yell for Officer Dustin Schwarze to shoot—statements central to the officers’ justification for lethal force.
Video reviewed by the workgroup shows Ringgenberg at points lying on his left side with his right hip and the holstered gun on it elevated off the ground and his right arm extended forward. Investigators say this posture is inconsistent with an officer who believes a suspect is grabbing his weapon, and it also indicates the gun was not in Jamar's possession. When Ringgenberg later stands up, his duty belt and firearm appear to be in their normal position, contradicting his statement to state investigators that the gun had shifted to the small of his back during the struggle.
Several witnesses also recalled Ringgenberg jumping up after the shot, checking himself for injuries and reportedly shouting, “What the fuck was that?” Forensic evidence showed Jamar's DNA on Ringgenberg’s mace holster and could not exclude him as a contributor on the gun grip, but the workgroup notes that ambulance video shows Ringgenberg touching his gun and belt immediately after touching Jamar, raising the possibility of DNA transfer. A responding paramedic additionally reported that Jamar's pants and belt were found around his mid-thigh, suggesting his own clothing had restricted his movement.
“All of these things contradict the police narrative that Jamar had the gun and call into question whether the use of force was justified,” the report states. “They go to the heart of accountability and the public’s trust in law enforcement and investigative integrity.”
‘They Don’t Have Any Remorse’
For Irma, the release of the new findings brings both validation and pain.
“They turned the story around to justify their tactics,” she said. “That’s just a slap in the face. They’re still out there working like nothing happened—like my son’s life didn’t matter.”
Irma says her family recently encountered one of the officers involved in Jamar’s death. “He had an attitude,” she recalled. “No remorse, none. Ten years later, and I feel like he’s just waiting for another opportunity to do it again, because he knows he’ll be covered.”
‘Every Time, It’s Like Reliving It’
Over the past decade, Minneapolis has seen more police killings—Amir Locke, Winston Smith, Tekle Sundberg and others, each sparking grief and outrage. For Irma, each new case reopens an old wound.
“It’s just like opening up the wound all over again,” she said. “Each and every time you hear about someone else, it’s like reliving Jamar’s death. My heart truly goes out to those families. I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy.”
Still, she says she refuses to become anti-police. “I know all police are not bad,” she said. “But if they don’t speak up, if they see something wrong and say nothing, then they’re part of the problem too. They gotta be better.”
The Call for Accountability
For Irma, justice means accountability: both for the officers who killed her son and for the system that failed to hold them responsible.
“I don’t think they should be serving,” she said. “For them to still be on the force is a slap in the face. Justice would be them not having another opportunity to do this to someone else.”
The Reinvestigation Workgroup echoes her call. Their report urges renewed federal scrutiny, arguing that Jamar’s civil rights were likely violated and that prior investigations by the BCA, Hennepin County Attorney, and U.S. Department of Justice were “negligent at minimum.”
It also places Jamar's killing within a larger historical pattern of Minneapolis police shootings of Black men stretching back to Tycel Nelson in 1990, Walter Collins in 2003, and Courtney Williams in 2004—each case marked by disputed facts, unarmed victims, and no criminal accountability.
A Bench, a Legacy, and a Mission
In October of this year, the family installed a permanent memorial bench for Jamar along Plymouth Avenue, near the site where he was killed. For Irma, the bench is a symbol of her son’s spirit still at work. She shared a story about an encounter at another bench on Plymouth for Jamar.
“There was a young man who told me he sat on that bench,” she recalled, tears breaking her voice. “He said he was getting ready to do something crazy—he had a gun—and that sitting there, something told him not to. He turned the gun in. That’s my son’s spirit. They didn’t give him a chance to show the good he had in him.”
Irma has also created a nonprofit, Project Jamar Saving Me, to continue her son’s legacy of generosity. The group organizes community meals, pays for families’ groceries, and hosts family events like “build-a-basket” days for parents and kids.
“Jamar would’ve given you the shirt off his back,” she said. “He didn’t get to do all he could’ve done in this world, but through this project, I’m trying to keep that spirit alive.”
A Decade Without Justice
Ten years after his death, Jamar Clark’s name still echoes through Minneapolis—on murals, on protest signs, and now etched in granite on a bench facing Plymouth Avenue.
For his mother, and the community, the fight continues.
“They failed to give him a chance to live,” Irma said. “But we’re still here, and we’re not giving up.” As for The Reinvestigation Workgroup: “Moving ahead, we will be pressing the Hennepin County Attorney's office to forward Jamar’s case to the Attorney General’s office for potential criminal charges.”