“In my head I just see my baby brother — because that’s how he’ll always be to me — and then him on the ground shaking and waiting for help, but nobody was there.”
Speaking publicly for the first time since his brother’s death, Arkangelo appeared at an emergency town hall meeting Friday night as community leaders and allies gathered to discuss policing and fears of police brutality toward racialized people.
“In my head I just see my baby brother — because that’s how he’ll always be to me — and then him on the ground shaking and waiting for help, but nobody was there,” said Arkangelo, who had to be consoled by members of his family as he spoke for roughly three minutes.
“I hope no other family ever has to go through this again. I don’t know how we’re going to get over this.”
The chain of events leading to the shooting began when the 28-year-old was involved in a rollover on Anthony Henday Drive and 153 Avenue around 9 p.m. on June 29.
ASIRT said Arkangelo was seen by witnesses leaving the vehicle, prompting officers to search for him in the northeast Edmonton neighbourhood of Fraser.
At 9:11 p.m., the Edmonton Police Service Air 1 helicopter team arrived in the area. Ten minutes later, an officer on the ground called in to say he had located a man that matched the description of the driver, said ASIRT.
The agency said Arkangelo walked toward the officer’s cruiser with its lights flashing, and the officer drove his vehicle toward the man.
A short time later, the officer stopped his cruiser and stepped out with his gun drawn, while Arkangelo stopped walking and raised his arms to his sides.
The two men “engaged verbally” with each other before the officer fired his weapon at Arkangelo, who dropped to the ground, said ASIRT.
Arkangelo received medical attention from emergency crews when they arrived, but he died at the scene as a result of gunshot wounds.
In its account of the shooting, Edmonton police described the exchange between Arkangelo and the officer as a “confrontation.”
‘A big part of our family is missing’
“As a family, we’re just asking what happened between the police and him. Why didn’t they take more time in that situation?” said Arkangelo’s cousin Nivala Uka.
“We don’t want to take it as a racial thing, but this is sometimes how we look at it. If he was a white (man), would they have acted the same?
“Matthew was such a loving person. For us, a big part of our family is missing. He didn’t deserve to die like that.”
Arkangelo has been described as a fun-loving, humble, caring family man, who had a passion for music and was a doting father to his seven-year-old son.
He worked in construction, but had dreams of being a full-time musician. Uka said her family always enjoyed listening to him perform, but hearing his music now brings pain.
“He loved music and to sing, and he loved to play his songs for us, but now when we listen to his songs, we start crying,” said Uka.
Uka said Mathios was an amazing father who did everything for his son. The two were best buddies, always attached at the hip, but now the boy will grow up without a father, she said.
“His son was his world. Matthew’s son was his mini-me. They were always doing things together,” said Uka.
“We’ve told him, and he knows his dad isn’t here, but it hasn’t sunk in yet. We’re preparing ourselves for the day of the funeral when he sees his dad laying in the coffin. That’s what we’re all so scared about.
“We know this is going to break his heart. He was his daddy’s boy. We don’t know how he’s going to be, but we’re going to hold him, protect him and be there for him and we’re going to pray that justice will come.”
‘No justification’
The family’s lawyer, Tom Engel, said he has many questions about police actions the night of June 29.
Engel said video footage indicates Arkangelo was surrendering to police, and wasn’t posing any kind of threat that would’ve given the officer reason to shoot.
“Both hands were raised and he was showing the officer what he had. There were no threatening motions. It was a 100 per cent surrender posture,” said Engel.
Criminologist and former EPS officer Dan Jones, who spent 25 years on the force, said ASIRT cases often takes months or even years to close.
“You have this grieving family and they want answers, and they’re not going to get answers for quite a while. Those are things I struggle with,” said Jones.
