Maryland State Senator C. Anthony Muse allegedly struck a parked car, abandoned his Land Rover on a sidewalk, and blamed his driver for parking it, but surveillance video appears to show Muse behind the wheel the entire time.
On August 6, the 68-year-old Democratic senator from Prince George's County was in Annapolis for a special legislative session when his SUV clipped the wing mirror of a parked car on Severn Avenue in the city's Eastport neighborhood. What followed, captured across 911 audio, police bodycam footage, and private surveillance cameras, paints a picture of a state lawmaker who misled officers about the most basic fact of the encounter: who was driving.
Surveillance footage obtained by ABC affiliate WJLA appears to show Muse parking the Land Rover himself and walking away alone. That directly contradicts what he told the responding Annapolis police officer on bodycam: "My driver actually parked here." He repeated the claim moments later: "I'm actually down here for the special session. My driver parked the vehicle and left to go home."
No driver has been identified. No driver appears in the footage. And Muse has not explained the discrepancy.
The motorist whose mirror was struck called 911 shortly after the collision. Her account to the dispatcher was blunt:
"He didn't stop. Actually, we are pretty sure he is intoxicated. Somebody saw him do it and went and found him and said 'did you know you hit that car?' and then he came back and gave me his information."
A nearby parking attendant also called police after seeing Muse return to the Land Rover. The attendant told officers he did not believe the senator should be driving. He managed to get the keys away from Muse and keep him occupied until police arrived.
"I was able to get the keys from him. I'm just keeping him talking," the attendant told officers over the phone.
Before approaching Muse, the responding officers discussed among themselves whether the senator would "be able to drive," the Daily Mail reported. That conversation was captured on bodycam.
Despite the 911 caller's suspicion of intoxication, the parking attendant's concern, and the officers' own private doubts caught on bodycam, Annapolis police filed no charges against Muse. The Land Rover was towed because it had been left on a sidewalk, wedged against a tree, but Muse himself faced no legal consequences.
When told the vehicle would be towed, Muse seemed surprised. "Why would they tow it?" he asked. The officer explained it was because the SUV sat on a public sidewalk. He then offered the senator a ride to the nearby Westin hotel, where Muse had apparently been heading. Muse accepted.
At one point during the exchange, Muse appeared to reference the "governor" or "government" taking care of the situation. The exact wording is difficult to make out on the audio, and the source reporting notes the ambiguity. But the implication, that political connections might smooth things over, hangs over an encounter in which a sitting lawmaker walked away from a hit-and-run scene without so much as a citation.
The Democratic Party has faced growing questions about whether its elected officials are held to the same standards as ordinary citizens. Kyrsten Sinema has argued that the party pushed out its moderates and lost its commitment to accountability along the way.
In a statement to Fox45, Muse offered a version of events that addressed the collision but sidestepped the central question, who parked the car. He said he moved over to give an oncoming truck more room to pass and that his mirror "inadvertently hit the mirror of a parked vehicle."
"There was no place to park on Severn Avenue, so I turned the corner, hurriedly parked on the curb, rushed back to the parked vehicle, apologized to the owner, and gave my insurance info."
That statement is notable for what it concedes. Muse acknowledged parking on the curb himself, "I turned the corner, hurriedly parked." Yet on bodycam, recorded the same day, he told police twice that "my driver" had parked the vehicle. Both statements cannot be true.
The contradiction is not a matter of fuzzy memory or loose phrasing. One version has Muse behind the wheel. The other places an unnamed, unidentified driver in the seat. The surveillance footage supports the first version. No evidence supports the second.
Incidents like this fuel public frustration with a political class that appears to operate under different rules. Pennsylvania Democrats have watched their own party fracture over questions of credibility and conduct among elected officials.
Maryland Senate President Bill Ferguson addressed the matter in a statement to Fox Baltimore that said almost nothing:
"My responsibility as Senate President is to uphold the integrity of the Senate and ensure that standards are enforced fairly and without bias."
Ferguson did not say whether he had reviewed the footage, spoken with Muse, or initiated any inquiry. He did not address the apparent contradiction between Muse's bodycam statements and the surveillance video. He offered a principle, "standards enforced fairly", without indicating whether any standard had been applied at all.
The Daily Mail contacted Muse for additional comment and had not received a response as of publication.
Several open questions remain unanswered. Was Muse offered or administered a field sobriety test? If not, why not, given that both the 911 caller and the parking attendant raised concerns about his condition? Who is the "driver" Muse referenced to police, and has that person been located or interviewed? Did Muse actually provide insurance information to the vehicle owner, as he claimed to Fox45?
None of these questions have been publicly resolved. And with no charges filed, there may be no formal process through which they ever are.
The episode fits a broader pattern of Democratic officials facing uncomfortable scrutiny over personal conduct. A Democratic state senator in California was recently chased from a public event by members of her own party's base, a reminder that accountability pressures within the left can be selective and unpredictable.
The facts as captured on camera are straightforward. A state senator's SUV struck a parked car. The senator left the vehicle on a sidewalk. A witness called 911 and said she believed he was intoxicated. A parking attendant took his keys because he did not look fit to drive. Officers privately questioned whether the senator could drive. And when police arrived, the senator told them someone else had parked the car, a claim the surveillance footage appears to flatly contradict.
For that, C. Anthony Muse received a free ride to his hotel.
Meanwhile, the AP reported that the Tampa Bay Rays extended their winning streak to five games that same week, proof that somewhere in America, performance still has consequences, even if they're only measured in box scores.
Ordinary citizens who leave their car on a sidewalk after hitting another vehicle and then mislead the responding officers about who was driving can expect a very different outcome than a courtesy ride to the nearest hotel. Democrats who break with their party on hot-button issues at least face political consequences for their choices. Muse, so far, has faced none at all.
When the law treats a lawmaker more gently than it would treat any other driver on the same street, the word for that isn't fairness, it's privilege.
