Lliusa Carranza v. City of Oklahoma City
What's This Case About?
Let’s get one thing straight: a police officer flung a woman into a garage. Not wrestled. Not subdued. Not even touched—according to the officer’s own later-discredited excuse—before launching her like a human projectile into someone’s storage space like it was a scene from a slapstick cartoon. And somehow, this wasn’t the punchline. It was September 9, 2024, in Oklahoma City, and what should’ve been a routine noise complaint spiraled into a full-blown constitutional dumpster fire, now immortalized in a lawsuit that reads like a satire of police misconduct—except it’s real, and someone is demanding $175,000 for being turned into a garage-bound pinball.
Meet Lliusa Carranza, a woman just trying to enjoy a backyard hangout with friends at 5506 Rockwood Avenue. Music was playing, the vibe was chill, and then—because someone in the neighborhood had a curfew-fueled vendetta against joy—Oklahoma City Police Officer Rasaun Gordon showed up. His mission? To enforce the sacred silence of suburban evenings. His method? Apparently, physics-defying force. According to the petition, Gordon told the group to pack it up and go inside. No argument, no resistance—just compliance. The music went off, coolers were grabbed, and everyone started moving. But Gordon, allegedly dissatisfied with the pace of their cleanup, decided to up the stakes. He threatened to arrest Lliusa and the “homeboys” if he had to come back. Then, as Lliusa stood several feet away—arms crossed, not moving, not speaking, not even breathing aggressively—he charged her. And then, in what can only be described as a move more suited to a WWE highlight reel than a police encounter, he threw her into the garage. Not pushed. Not guided. Flung. As in, she flew. A woman of “slight frame,” the filing emphasizes, was sent airborne into a concrete storage unit like she was auditioning for a low-budget action movie.
Now, if you’re thinking, “Wait, did she at least do something?”—like, maybe trip him, or flick a beer cap at his badge—nope. According to the lawsuit, she didn’t lay a finger on him. But when she got up, bleeding from her elbow and probably questioning the laws of gravity, she did the one thing you’re supposed to do when a cop goes full Hulk: she asked for his badge number. And that’s when Officer Gordon allegedly cooked up a story on the spot, claiming she “touched his shoulder”—a flimsy excuse that barely qualifies as a pretext. Then came the coup de grâce: he threw her to the ground, “catapulted” her over (a phrase we’d love to see in a police training manual), cuffed her, and declared she was going to jail. Not for noise. Not for disorderly conduct. For the crime of existing near a cooler after dark.
He dragged her to the car, where she calmly gave her name and asked to speak to a supervisor. Gordon’s response? “Supervisor’s busy—murder in Newcastle.” Cool, cool. So while a murder investigation unfolds miles away, this guy gets to play judge, jury, and human catapult in a residential driveway. And instead of booking her, he takes her to a sobering facility—despite, the filing notes, showing zero signs of intoxication. No slurred speech. No stumbling. No empty bottles in her hand. Just blood on her elbow and a story that sounds increasingly like a fever dream.
Now, here’s the twist that makes this whole thing even juicier: Officer Rasaun Gordon already pleaded guilty to crimes related to this incident. The filing cites case number CM-2024-4105, confirming that the guy didn’t even try to fight it in criminal court. He admitted he did something wrong. And yet—somehow—this civil case still needs to happen. Why? Because pleading guilty to a crime doesn’t automatically compensate the victim. That’s where Lliusa Carranza, represented by Ronald Jones II of The Jones Firm, PLLC, steps in with a $175,000 demand. And let’s be real: that number isn’t just about the medical bills (though those are included). It’s about the indignity. The humiliation. The fact that she was treated like a ragdoll in front of her friends and neighbors. The blood on her elbow. The lie about the shoulder touch. The garage. The garage.
So what exactly is she suing for? Two big things: unlawful seizure and excessive force. In plain English, that means: (1) you can’t just grab someone and throw them into a building without legal justification, and (2) you definitely can’t use cartoon-level violence on a non-threatening person. These aren’t niche legal theories—they’re basic civil rights, protected under both the U.S. and Oklahoma constitutions. And by naming not just Gordon but also the Oklahoma City Police Department and the City of Oklahoma City, the lawsuit is arguing that this wasn’t just one rogue cop—it’s a systemic failure. Maybe the department trained him poorly. Maybe they ignored red flags. Maybe they’ve seen this behavior before and looked the other way. Either way, the city could be on the hook for what its employee did while wearing the uniform.
Now, is $175,000 a lot for getting yeeted into a garage? Let’s do the math. It’s not a life-changing sum for a city. It’s less than what some police settlements cost when someone dies. But for a single incident involving no drugs, no violence, no resistance—just a woman standing still and getting launched into a storage unit? It’s actually kind of low. Especially when you factor in the emotional toll, the medical treatment, the lost wages (if any), and the sheer absurdity of having to explain to your therapist why a cop thought your garage was a holding cell. This isn’t just about money. It’s about sending a message: you don’t get to treat people like furniture, even if you later say “oops” in criminal court.
Our take? The most absurd part isn’t even the flinging—it’s the excuse. “She touched my shoulder.” That’s the best he could come up with? Not “she swung at me,” not “she ran,” not “she had a weapon”—just a phantom shoulder tap, like she committed battery by accidentally brushing against his sleeve. And then, instead of calling for backup or de-escalating, he turns into a human trebuchet. Meanwhile, the supervisor is “attending to a murder in Newcastle,” which sounds less like an explanation and more like a line from a cop sitcom where every precinct is understaffed and everyone’s just making up rules as they go.
We’re not rooting for chaos. We’re not rooting for vendettas. But we are rooting for accountability. For the record to reflect that you can’t just throw people into garages because they’re not moving fast enough for your liking. For Lliusa Carranza to get more than just an apology. And for future officers to think twice before deciding that a noise complaint requires the force of a medieval siege engine. Because if this case teaches us anything, it’s that sometimes, justice doesn’t come from a gavel. It comes from asking for a badge number—and refusing to let the story end in a garage.
Case Overview
-
Lliusa Carranza
individual
Rep: Ronald Jones II
- City of Oklahoma City government
- Oklahoma City Police Department government
- Rasaun Gordon individual
| # | Cause of Action | Description |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | unlawful seizure | Officer Rasaun Gordon flung Lliusa Carranza into a garage without her posing any physical threat to him. |
| 2 | excessive force | Officer Rasaun Gordon used excessive force against Lliusa Carranza during an arrest. |