Phoenix Jones appeared in court yesterday, ready to answer to charges of assault. He sat there in his rubber mask, and was told that charges weren’t being filed. He got up, walked out, and unmasked in front of local news cameras. His name is Benjamin Fodor, and he’s only 23 years old.
I’ve lived in Seattle for about three years now…its been a contentious relationship. A certain northwestern passivity is prevalent in the city, and nobody knows how to drive in the snow. More damning: nobody knows how to drive in the rain. So when I first heard that Seattle had its own masked vigilante crimefighter, I was surprised. Pleasantly surprised.
Okay, I was psyched.
I’m never going to be a Seahawks fan, or a Mariners fan, and the Sounders have a funny name, but Phoenix Jones! Phoenix Jones, driven to action after witnessing a robbery on his home streets. Phoenix Jones, whose snazzy black and gold costume is surprisingly photogenic for being homemade. Phoenix Jones, the first real-life superhero to gain national notoriety and score a lengthy profile in GQ. A city patrolled by Phoenix Jones was a city I could feel at home in and excited by.
Jones in the pages of GQ
So when the Seattle police arrested Phoenix for allegedly overreacting and pepper spraying a rowdy crowd outside a nightclub, I was ready to take his side.
My mind went straight to Gotham Central, and the department’s grudge against Batman, and to the Superhuman Registration Act that forced do-gooders onto the wrong side of the law. ”We’ve seen this before!” my geek lizard brain said, “The police have seen a strong, black man taking justice to the streets and they want to take his power away!”
Okay, maybe that last bit is legit. But as for the rest… I have this undeniable knee-jerk urge to rise to the defense of a real-life superhero. Seeing Phoenix’s exploits in the local news was like being a kid again, those first few years of reading comics and tying a towel around my neck, jumping around on the bed and dreaming. Someone had done it, someone had really done it. He’d taken off the towel, strapped on some armor, and waded into real crimefighting.
Does the fact that it’s a dream come to life make it a good thing to do? Phoenix has broken bones, been shot, coughed up blood. He’s 23 years old, he has a girlfriend, a kid.
In every conversation I’ve had about him, someone says it: he’s going to get killed one day.
The police have told him to observe and report. Call 911. And he does, but he doesn’t sit back and watch things unfold until the cops get there. At a time when we’re seeing the NYPD pepper spray peaceful protester. When reports of police brutality and police indifference are still common, can you really blame him? could we blame anyone for wanting to step in and protect the public?
The city attorney’s office says charges may still be filed pending an investigation. I can’t help but hope that Ben Fodor walks off clean, pulls back on his mask, and stays Phoenix Jones for us. I can’t help but hope that Ben Fodor stays safe, goes home, and saves his own life.
