The title isn’t an exaggeration. It’s a pattern. And once again, Broward Sheriff’s deputies have proven that when accountability is needed most, they disappear.

On a recent First Amendment audit at Fort Lauderdale-Hollywood International Airport (FLL), I visited all four terminals to test whether airport employees and law enforcement respected the public’s right to record in publicly accessible areas. Most people handled the camera just fine. Some were curious. A few asked questions. But when I arrived at Terminal 3, things took a disturbing turn.

At the JetBlue baggage check, a staff member named Andre objected to my filming and told me I didn’t have permission. I calmly informed him that I was engaged in constitutionally protected activity. But instead of deescalating, a customer he was helping decided to insert himself into the situation. His name was Sean.

Sean told me to stop recording. I asked, “Or what?” and he threatened me by saying my equipment would end up in five pieces. Before I had time to react, he shoved me in the chest.

That’s assault.

And it happened right there in front of JetBlue employees, passengers, and two uniformed Broward Sheriff’s deputies who were approaching as it happened.

When I informed the deputies that I had just been assaulted and wanted to press charges, they did absolutely nothing. They refused to detain the suspect. They refused to take my report. They refused to identify themselves. Instead, they let Sean walk away, unchecked and unbothered.

Let that sink in: I was physically attacked while exercising a constitutionally protected right, and the law enforcement officers on scene looked the other way.

When I attempted to document which patrol cars the deputies belonged to, one of them made a veiled threat implying that I could be arrested if I didn’t back off. So I went back inside the terminal, took a seat, backed up my footage, and called the Broward Sheriff’s Office non-emergency number.

A few minutes later, a real cop showed up.

Deputy G. Aluc arrived, heard me out, reviewed the footage, and called for a supervisor. Together, they took my statement and confirmed the names of the officers who had refused to act. Finally, someone was willing to treat an on-camera assault like the crime that it is.

To be clear, Deputy Aluc didn’t hesitate. He was respectful, attentive, and thorough. That should be the standard. But it stood in stark contrast to the behavior of the first two deputies, who seemed more interested in avoiding paperwork than upholding the law.

The phrase “Cowards of Broward” didn’t start with me. It came out of the Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School shooting, where BSO deputies stood outside while students were being gunned down inside. That history matters — not because it’s ancient history, but because the pattern of running from responsibility is alive and well.

And that’s the point here. This isn’t about one bad interaction, or one officer having a bad day. This is about a repeated failure of leadership, culture, and duty. When police officers pick and choose who deserves protection based on personal bias or public perception, they’re no longer peace officers — they’re political tools.

If I hadn’t had a camera rolling, this story might sound unbelievable. But the footage doesn’t lie. It shows who did the right thing, who failed to act, and who stepped up when it counted.

This audit isn’t just about filming in public. It’s about shining a light on public servants who take their oath seriously — and calling out those who don’t.

FLL is a busy, high-traffic airport. There are TSA officers, airline staff, and local deputies stationed throughout. In an environment where security is the priority, it should concern everyone that someone can be assaulted in plain sight and deputies won’t lift a finger.

Whether it’s indifference, laziness, or fear of accountability, it all leads to the same result: a failure to protect the public. And if it happens to one person, it can happen to anyone.

Deputy Aluc was the exception. He did his job. But the two deputies who ignored my report were the norm. That’s the real problem.

It’s not about me. It’s about the precedent. If police can watch an assault happen and choose to do nothing because they don’t like who the victim is, then none of us are safe.

The irony here is that these audits are meant to test the system, but the failures are never staged. They’re real. They happen in front of the lens, and they reflect how easily civil liberties can be dismissed by those sworn to protect them.

As always, you can watch the full video right here on Good Citizen News Network. If you support this kind of work and want to help keep public servants honest, consider buying me an iced coffee at buymeacoffee.com/gcnn.

Check out the links in the description for the full audit video, bonus content, and updates on any public records requests related to this incident. 

Stay vigilant. Stay free.