America: From a Fallen Child Star to the Head of the University of the West

Chapter 74 I Came from Pennsylvania

Two hours later, in Newark, New Jersey.

Newark is the largest city in New Jersey and the state's judicial center. Federal courts, state courts, and various law enforcement agencies are all located in the downtown borough.

But the first place Sean and his group arrived at was the Essex County Detention Centre in Newark, a gray concrete building with barbed wire and surveillance cameras covering its exterior.

The young man named Chen Kaiwen is being held here.

Sean met him for the first time in the visiting room of the detention center.

Chen Kaiwen looked younger than Sean had imagined. He was about the same age as Sean, around twenty-five or twenty-six, and was wearing an orange prison uniform with his hands handcuffed to the table.

But his eyes were surprisingly calm, even with a hint of stubbornness.

The number above his head is 70.

"Mr. Pan," Chen Kaiwen's voice was a little hoarse, clearly he hadn't spoken properly in a long time, "thank you for coming to see me."

"You're welcome." Sean sat down opposite him. "I'm here to help you, Kevin."

"Help me?" Chen Kaiwen gave a bitter smile. "Mr. Pan, I've been locked up here for almost a month. My lawyer said that if convicted, I could face more than ten years in prison. I don't even dare tell my parents."

"You won't go to jail," Sean said firmly. "I promise you."

Just then, footsteps sounded outside the door.

A middle-aged Asian man in a suit walked in. His name tag read: David Lin, Attorney.

"Mr. Pan, it's a pleasure to meet you," David Lin said, shaking hands with Sean. "I'm Kevin Chen's defense attorney in New Jersey. Thank you for your willingness to get involved in this case."

"Attorney Lin, this is my legal advisor, Vincent Carter," Sean introduced. "He will be representing Kevin Chen alongside you."

"Mr. Carter, it's an honor to meet you." David Lin turned to Vincent. "I've seen your performance in the Philadelphia courtroom; it was brilliant."

"Likewise," Vincent replied politely. "Attorney Lin enjoys a high reputation in the Chinese community, and I've heard of him before."

After exchanging pleasantries, the group sat around the table in the reception room and began to discuss the case.

"Kevin, I need you to carefully recall what happened that day." Sean looked at the young man opposite him. "Every detail is important."

Chen Kaiwen lowered his head and remained silent for a while.

"That day—that morning, I drove there from New Jersey." His voice was low. "I saw the news about the protest online, saying that people were going to the 76ers' training center to show their support for Chinatown."

"What time will you arrive?" Vincent asked.

"Around nine o'clock. There were already quite a few people there, probably two or three hundred. There were Chinese, as well as Black and White people. Everyone was quite peaceful, just holding up signs and chanting slogans."

"and then?"

"Then more and more people came," Chen Kaiwen continued. "Someone said Morey was coming out, and everyone started crowding towards the main entrance. The security guards tried to stop them, but there were just too many people, and they couldn't hold them back at all."

"When did Morey's car come out?" David Lin interjected.

"Around 10:30. It was a black Cadillac SUV. The car was driving very slowly because there were people in front of it. Then—"

Then the car window rolled down a crack.

And so, Chen Kaiwen's eyes became somewhat unfocused, as if he had returned to that scene.

"I saw Morey's face. He was in the car, looking very impatient. His mouth was moving, as if he was cursing something."

"What did he say?" Sean pressed. "Did you hear me clearly?"

Chen Kaiwen shook his head: "I was too far away to hear clearly. But—but someone next to me said he heard Morey cursing something like 'yellow monkey'."

"Who is that person?" Vincent immediately became alert. "Where is he?"

"I don't know him. He was a Black man wearing a baseball cap. Then I don't know where he went."

Sean and Vincent exchanged a glance.

If this witness can be found to prove that Morey made racist remarks in the car, it will be very helpful for Chen Kaiwen's defense.

This proves that his behavior was not unprovoked violence, but a stress response after being severely provoked.

"Go on," Sean said. "What happened next?"

"Later—" Chen Kaiwen's voice began to tremble, "I don't know what happened, I just felt incredibly angry. From childhood to adulthood, I've always been called 'Chinaman,' 'yellow-skinned monkey,' and things like that. I endured it all. But at that moment, seeing his face, seeing his disdainful expression—I just couldn't take it anymore."

"My hand was already in my pocket. I had a gun, a Glock 19, and I had a gun license. I just wanted to—to give myself some confidence. But at that moment, I just couldn't control myself."

"I drew my gun and fired a shot at the car."

"Where did you hit?" Vincent asked.

"His right shoulder," Chen Kaiwen said with a wry smile. "Actually, my marksmanship is terrible. I originally wanted to—want to scare him a little. But I didn't control it well."

"And then what?"

"After the shooting, everything went haywire. People started screaming and scattering. The police suddenly appeared out of nowhere, pinned me to the ground, and then I was brought here."

After listening to Chen Kaiwen's account, Vincent fell into deep thought.

The key to this case lies in whether it can be proven that Morey's words and actions constituted "provocation".

If this can be proven, Chen Kaiwen's actions could be downgraded from "attempted murder" to "crime of passion," and might even be considered excessive behavior of "self-defense."

Of course, under the U.S. legal system, "verbal provocation" is usually not sufficient grounds for shooting. But if the language involves racial discrimination and there are hundreds of witnesses present, then the situation is different.

"Kevin, do you remember what that black guy looked like?" Sean, who didn't know much about the law, asked based on his intuition. "Any details will do."

Chen Kaiwen tried hard to recall: "He was quite tall, a head taller than me. He was wearing a dark blue baseball cap with some kind of logo on it. And—there seemed to be something written on his jacket, but I couldn't see it clearly."

"Dark blue baseball cap, tall, jacket with writing on it—" Vincent jotted down this information. "We can find this person through the video and photos from the scene. There must have been a lot of people taking pictures that day."

"There's one more thing," Sean said, looking at Kevin Chen. "Before you fired the shot, did you listen to that episode of my podcast?"

Chen Kaiwen paused for a moment, then nodded: "Of course, it's the episode about 'The Joe Logan Experience.' What you said really inspired me. You said this issue isn't just about Chinese people, it's about every ordinary person."

"The prosecution will use that to attack me," Sean said bluntly. "They will say that my remarks incited you to shoot."

"But that's not true," Chen Kaiwen said urgently. "My protest was my own decision. My shooting was also my own decision. You're just telling the truth; you didn't incite anyone to use violence."

“I know,” Sean stood up. “But in court, the truth often needs to be proven with evidence. Don’t worry, Kevin. We’ll find that witness.”

Two days later.

Martin Luther King Jr. Federal Building, Newark, New Jersey.

This building, named after a civil rights leader, houses the New Jersey Federal Court. Today, it will witness another trial concerning the boundaries between free speech and public safety.

A large number of reporters and members of the public had gathered outside the courthouse. Unlike the incident in Philadelphia, this time there were clearly opposing camps within the crowd.

On one side were Sean's supporters, holding up signs that read "Freedom of speech is not a crime" and "Justice belongs to the people"; on the other side was a group of opponents whose signs read "Agitators must be punished" and "Violence is not the answer."

The two groups of people were shouting at each other across the police cordon, creating a tense atmosphere.

Sean's convoy arrived at the back entrance of the courthouse, escorted by police cars. He got out of the car and strode into the building, avoiding the noise.

"Are you ready?" Vincent asked, following beside him.

"Of course, Mr. Carter." Sean straightened his tie. "Let's see what the prosecutors in New Jersey are capable of."

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