<p>In Breonna Taylor's neighborhood in Louisville, there was bitterness but little surprise at the news that no one would face charges over the young black woman's killing by police: "They can kill us and get away with a spank on the wrist," summed up 52-year-old Marcus Reede.</p>.<p>Reede, an African American who owns a BBQ eatery, grew up in this residential Kentucky neighborhood. He slammed the leniency granted to the officers who shot and killed Taylor, a fellow resident of South Louisville.</p>.<p>He recalled having been roughed up by police himself when he was young.</p>.<p>"There was about five or six of them kicking and jumping on me," he recalled as he roasted a rack of ribs.</p>.<p>"But you know, they didn't have video cameras, phones or something to record it then," he said.</p>.<p>And that has been key. Footage of the deaths of black men like George Floyd at the hands of police officers has galvanized protesters in recent months and swelled a movement against police brutality and racism.</p>.<p>Taylor, a 26-year-old medical worker, lived in an apartment complex a few blocks from Reede's takeaway.</p>.<p>"Rest in peace beautiful girl. I will not stop fighting until your murderers get what they deserve," said one of the notes left outside her ground-floor apartment, amid flowers and candles.</p>.<p>"I will never stop screaming your name," it said.</p>.<p>In front of her old home, where Taylor lived with her boyfriend and sister, a white door has been fitted to replace the one knocked down by police in the pre-dawn hours of March 13.</p>.<p>On the doormat next door, a message reads, "Nothing inside is worth dying for."</p>.<p>The death of Taylor, whose name has been chanted at anti-racism protests across the United States all summer, shocked this community of working men and women, a neighborhood that is "poor but trying to survive the best we can," said local resident Lillie McBride.</p>.<p>For many African Americans, the killing raised fears that they could share the same fate.</p>.<p>"It used to be the black men who were put down" said McBride, a 46-year-old African American. "Now it's also black women."</p>.<p>She slammed the "injustice" she experiences just because of her skin color.</p>.<p>"I always feel threatened," said Taina Thomas, who went to high school with Taylor.</p>.<p>"She's a good spirit, she didn't deserve it," she said of her old schoolmate, whom she described as "a great person" and "a hard worker."</p>.<p>At 28, she is just two years older than Taylor when she was killed by police. She often talks with her friends about the abiding fear the killing has left with her.</p>.<p>"It's crazy how it could be any of us too," she said. "I always feel threatened."</p>
<p>In Breonna Taylor's neighborhood in Louisville, there was bitterness but little surprise at the news that no one would face charges over the young black woman's killing by police: "They can kill us and get away with a spank on the wrist," summed up 52-year-old Marcus Reede.</p>.<p>Reede, an African American who owns a BBQ eatery, grew up in this residential Kentucky neighborhood. He slammed the leniency granted to the officers who shot and killed Taylor, a fellow resident of South Louisville.</p>.<p>He recalled having been roughed up by police himself when he was young.</p>.<p>"There was about five or six of them kicking and jumping on me," he recalled as he roasted a rack of ribs.</p>.<p>"But you know, they didn't have video cameras, phones or something to record it then," he said.</p>.<p>And that has been key. Footage of the deaths of black men like George Floyd at the hands of police officers has galvanized protesters in recent months and swelled a movement against police brutality and racism.</p>.<p>Taylor, a 26-year-old medical worker, lived in an apartment complex a few blocks from Reede's takeaway.</p>.<p>"Rest in peace beautiful girl. I will not stop fighting until your murderers get what they deserve," said one of the notes left outside her ground-floor apartment, amid flowers and candles.</p>.<p>"I will never stop screaming your name," it said.</p>.<p>In front of her old home, where Taylor lived with her boyfriend and sister, a white door has been fitted to replace the one knocked down by police in the pre-dawn hours of March 13.</p>.<p>On the doormat next door, a message reads, "Nothing inside is worth dying for."</p>.<p>The death of Taylor, whose name has been chanted at anti-racism protests across the United States all summer, shocked this community of working men and women, a neighborhood that is "poor but trying to survive the best we can," said local resident Lillie McBride.</p>.<p>For many African Americans, the killing raised fears that they could share the same fate.</p>.<p>"It used to be the black men who were put down" said McBride, a 46-year-old African American. "Now it's also black women."</p>.<p>She slammed the "injustice" she experiences just because of her skin color.</p>.<p>"I always feel threatened," said Taina Thomas, who went to high school with Taylor.</p>.<p>"She's a good spirit, she didn't deserve it," she said of her old schoolmate, whom she described as "a great person" and "a hard worker."</p>.<p>At 28, she is just two years older than Taylor when she was killed by police. She often talks with her friends about the abiding fear the killing has left with her.</p>.<p>"It's crazy how it could be any of us too," she said. "I always feel threatened."</p>