They held signs on rooftops, their arms stretched to the sky. They called on first responders, news helicopters, a higher source—anyone—for help. Yet in a flash, the single most powerful elected official who could’ve sat with them and shared their grief, who could’ve extended consolation, concern, and a commitment to full restoration, made a decision that characterized his entire tenure in office: he gazed down at the suffering, soaring above from the relative comfort of Air Force One, as a king might look upon the poor—with insincere pity.

Make no mistake: this is Rahm Emanuel’s Katrina moment.

And starting in October, the City Council’s Black Caucus called for Garry McCarthy’s ouster as police superintendent, noting his absent approach to “quality of life” issues in their communities—all while reports lambasted his department’s legacy of torture and coerced confessions. “I’m standing by him,” Emanuel said, pledging his support of a man that, unbeknownst to the public, may have been complicit in the cover-up of Jason Van Dyke’s senseless 16-bullet shooting spree just over a year ago.

And for Emanuel, his ineptitude in the murder of Laquan McDonald will serve as a metaphor for his administration in the city of Chicago.