Written By JR Robinson

This article is a community contribution submitted by a local citizen. The views and allegations expressed herein are those of the author, Kareema McCloud, and do not necessarily reflect the official position of JustMy, its associated NewsSTANDS, or its writers. This story is being shared as a matter of public interest regarding civil rights and municipal accountability.

A Message to the Legal Community

Plaintiff Kareema McCloud is currently seeking legal representation. The following allegations are part of a civil rights complaint (42 U.S.C. §1983) that has been drafted but not yet finalized for filing. Ms. McCloud has compiled extensive documentation, including FOIA results, video recordings, photographs, and emails that support these claims. Attorneys interested in reviewing the evidence for potential representation are encouraged to reach out.

The Threat: "I Can Have Laws Changed"

It began with a neighborly dispute that escalated into a constitutional nightmare. On July 7, 2019, Kareema McCloud, a resident of East Parkway South, was confronted by her neighbor—former Memphis Mayor A.C. Wharton. According to the complaint, Wharton didn't just express a grievance; he allegedly issued a threat of governmental force, stating he would "have some laws changed" and reminded her that he could "make phone calls."

For most citizens, such a statement might sound like empty political posturing. For Ms. McCloud, it was the "start" button on a multi-year campaign of coordinated harassment.

"Orders From the Top"

Within days of the confrontation, the machinery of the City of Memphis and Shelby County allegedly began to turn against a single private residence. Code enforcement officers, police, and health inspectors began appearing at Ms. McCloud’s door.

"What's 'the top'?" McCloud asks, recalling the chilling frequency with which inspectors cited high-level directives. "The top of the government? Who is making these calls? Am I getting ready to go to jail? I didn't know where the direction was coming from, and the fact that they were all saying the exact same thing made it ten times scarier."

Despite the sudden "urgency" from city leadership, the early inspections yielded a consistent result: No violations found. The cases were closed, only to be reopened, reissued, and escalated without new evidence—a cycle McCloud describes as a classic abuse of process.

The Weaponization of the MPD

The harassment allegedly escalated from administrative "check-ins" to criminal intimidation. The Memphis Police Department (MPD) Drug Task Force was dispatched to investigate an anonymous tip that McCloud’s home was operating as a "brothel."

Official records later showed that while surveillance was conducted, no illegal activity was ever observed. Lieutenant Poindexter, who was tasked with monitoring the property, eventually told McCloud he was closing the matter, citing a lack of evidence and a desire to stop wasting city resources. He reportedly admitted to McCloud that his directions to watch her home had come directly from the Chief of Police.

The climax of this police presence occurred on September 11, 2020. As McCloud was hosting a small, orderly repast for a grieving family—including an elderly grandmother—twelve police vehicles suddenly surrounded the home.

"They were asking my grandmother about her 'origin' as if she were an immigrant," McCloud says. "Code enforcement breached my property, walking into the backyard. When I asked what they were doing, they claimed they thought the property was vacant. There is no way they thought this house was vacant."

The alleged justification for this massive display of force? A report of a single car illegally parked on the street.

Surveillance and "Ghost" Technology

One of the most disturbing allegations in the complaint involves the installation of a SkyCop surveillance camera. McCloud witnessed a SkyCop minivan parked in front of A.C. Wharton’s home while technicians installed a camera on a pole near her property.

When she contacted the SkyCop division of the MPD, they reportedly had no record of a camera being authorized or scheduled for that location. MLGW employees later informed her that no work order had been issued for that pole. The camera, which McCloud believes was being controlled from within the former Mayor's residence, was removed shortly after she posted a live video of the installation to Facebook.

Legislative Retaliation

The complaint further alleges that when administrative harassment failed to force McCloud out, the law itself was altered to target her. Councilman Kemp Conrad publicly accused McCloud of hosting "wild parties," an allegation she says is flatly contradicted by police reports and the lack of citations.

Conrad subsequently sponsored modifications to the Unified Development Code (UDC) regarding "Outdoor Recreation" and "Home-Based Event Centers." These changes, McCloud argues, were not about public safety but were "legislative ratification" of the harassment she had already endured—tailoring the law to fit the narrative the city had unsuccessfully tried to prove for years.

The Fight for Due Process

Ms. McCloud's experience highlights a terrifying vulnerability in local governance: the ability of those with political "clout" to bypass neutral enforcement in favor of personal vendettas.

"This wasn't an issue of public safety," McCloud insists. "This was about power and influence. If this were a regular citizen dealing with this, they wouldn't have had the resources to fight back. It sounds like none of us are protected."

The lawsuit, brought under 42 U.S.C. §1983, seeks to hold the City of Memphis and Shelby County accountable under the Monell doctrine—arguing that the city maintained a custom or policy of allowing political escalation to override neutral law enforcement.

Seeking Justice

As of today, Kareema McCloud is standing her ground, but the weight of the city's legal and executive branches is heavy. She has requested jury trials to clear her name, yet she alleges the courts have attempted to bypass these requests, pushing for bench trials to avoid public scrutiny.

She is looking for an attorney who is not afraid to challenge the "Old Guard" of Memphis politics—someone who will look at the videos, the recordings, and the FOIA documents and see what she sees: a blatant violation of the First, Fourth, and Fourteenth Amendments.

The story of 1205 East Parkway South is more than a neighbor dispute. It is a cautionary tale of how easily the tools designed to protect a city can be turned into a "hit squad" for the politically connected.