In a world often painted with shades of gray, where justice is sought but not always found, a federal lawsuit filed earlier this month sheds a harsh light on a Vallejo couple’s terrifying ordeal at the hands of those sworn to protect. This isn’t just about legal documents and formal allegations; it’s about Ronnie Lewis and Candace Evans, two ordinary people whose lives were irrevocably altered by a series of events that began with a case of mistaken identity and spiraled into an alleged nightmare of excessive force and injustice. Their story, now etched into the records of the federal court, speaks to a deeper, more troubling pattern that their attorney suggests has long plagued the Vallejo Police Department.
Imagine, if you will, a typical day on May 18, 2024. For Ronnie and Candace, it likely started like any other, filled with the mundane rhythms of life. But for an unhoused individual, that same day began with a brutal carjacking at the Carquinez Inn, 160 Lincoln Road East. The victim – whose solace was found in a temporarily unoccupied room for a shower – was confronted by a man, armed, dressed in all black, who robbed him at gunpoint, taking his wallet, phone, and most devastatingly, his sanctuary: a gray 2013 Dodge Durango, his home. This harrowing incident, a violation of personal space and security, set in motion a chain of events that would tragically ensnare Ronnie and Candace. Officer Rosendo Mesa, responding to the distressing call, soon located the stolen Durango, seemingly abandoned, at 433 Admiral Callaghan Lane. The stage was set, not for a pursuit of the actual perpetrator, but for a devastating misdirection.
As fate would have it, Ronnie Lewis was simply walking in the vicinity, perhaps heading to run an errand or simply enjoying the Vallejo air. He got into a Nissan Rogue, with Candace in the passenger seat, oblivious to the storm brewing around them. Officer Mesa, however, saw something different, something sinister, a ghost of the carjacker in Ronnie’s innocent presence. The lawsuit alleges that Mesa, believing he had found his suspect, pulled up behind the Nissan, his tone unwavering as he commanded Ronnie to turn off the vehicle and display his hands and keys. Ronnie, adhering to the officer’s instructions, complied. But the situation escalated rapidly; Officer Jeremy Callinan arrived, and Mesa, with a chilling swiftness, unholstered his firearm, pointing it directly at Ronnie and ordering him out of the car. Ronnie, undoubtedly confused and fearful, exited the vehicle, trying to articulate his confusion and innocence, “I haven’t done anything to be detained,” he pleaded, as the officers closed in to handcuff him. What followed, as alleged in the lawsuit, was a brutal and unwarranted deployment of force: Mesa allegedly pulled out his Taser and electrocuted Ronnie in his left ribcage area. The pain, the shock, the utter bewilderment – it’s a moment that would forever be seared into Ronnie’s memory before he was handcuffed and pushed into the patrol car.
Candace Evans, witnessing the terrifying ordeal unfolding before her eyes, instinctively reached for her phone, hoping to capture the truth. As her fiancé was being brutalized, the officers turned their attention to her, ordering her out of the Nissan. She complied, phone in hand, recording, her heart pounding. But her attempt to document the events was met with further aggression. The lawsuit vividly describes the officers handcuffing Candace, then tackling her to the ground with a force that would send chills down anyone’s spine. As she was forced into the back of a patrol car, Officer Callinan allegedly committed an act of deliberate cruelty, “intentionally slammed the patrol car door shut hitting Evans’ knee, causing injuries.” The physical pain, however, was likely overshadowed by the emotional trauma, the feeling of utter helplessness and violation. And as if that wasn’t enough, the couple alleges that their Nissan was then searched without consent or probable cause, a blatant disregard for their constitutional rights.
The indignity continued as Officer Callinan brought the carjacking victim to the scene, expecting an identification that simply wasn’t there. Ronnie, handcuffed and wearing a cap and hoodie that obscured his face, stood by the patrol car, a stark contrast to the victim’s description of his assailant. The victim, who had clearly stated his attacker was “dressed in all black,” observed Ronnie, who was wearing a gray Adidas sweat top with blue jeans. Crucially, the victim, looking at the man presented before him, could only confirm he had seen a Black man with a goatee, unable to definitively identify Ronnie as the carjacker. This crucial detail, this failure of identification, should have been a turning point, a moment for the officers to reassess. Yet, despite this lack of confirmation, Ronnie and Candace were arrested. Candace, unjustly caught in this web of false accusations, was eventually released without charge. Ronnie, however, faced the grim reality of charges for carjacking and robbery, charges that would later be dismissed in June 2025, after a judge rightly recognized the weaknesses of the case. As their attorney, Stanley Goff, explained to the Vallejo Sun, the Solano County District Attorney Krishna Abrams dropped the charges, acknowledging the unlikelihood of success in criminal court, citing the misidentification and the irrefutable evidence from body camera footage. Goff further highlighted the problematic nature of such onsite identifications, emphasizing that they are “not advised because it does lead to inaccurate identification.”
This incident, as harrowing as it is, doesn’t stand in isolation. Attorney Goff, in linking Ronnie and Candace’s experience to a broader historical context, paints a somber picture of the Vallejo Police Department. He asserts that the department has a “bad history of mistreating its residents,” and the legal records seem to corroborate this claim. Officer Mesa, a central figure in this lawsuit, has a troubling history himself. He has been named in previous civil rights lawsuits, including one from another couple who alleged injuries sustained during an extraction from a crashed vehicle. In that case, Daisy Romero recounted being dragged out of her car by her hair while unconscious, only for Mesa to slam her to the ground as she screamed in pain and vomited. Another lawsuit against Mesa detailed an incident where he allegedly ordered his police dog, Loki, to bite a plaintiff in their car, and despite the dog wearing a collar designed to stop such attacks, Mesa allegedly took no action. The city settled this particular lawsuit for $40,000, a stark acknowledgment of the alleged misconduct. These past incidents, coupled with the current allegations from Ronnie and Candace, underscore a systemic issue, a pattern of behavior that demands scrutiny and accountability. Goff’s words serve as a rallying cry, “I hope more people come forward if they’ve been wronged by officers to assert their rights in court and seek justice.” Ronnie and Candace’s lawsuit, alleging numerous violations including unreasonable search and seizure, excessive force, battery, unlawful detention, false arrest, malicious prosecution, fabrication of evidence, and false imprisonment, is not just a fight for their own justice; it’s a stand against a system that allegedly allows such abuses to persist, a beacon of hope for others who have suffered in silence, urging them to break free from the shadows and demand the justice they deserve. The silence from Robert Briseño, the City of Vallejo spokesperson, speaks volumes, underscoring the gravity of the allegations and the difficult questions that remain unanswered.