The Harris family's life began to unravel around dawn on the last day of August. R.J. Harris, who is 77, was in bed when a noise jolted him awake. Bam. What was that? Bam. It sounded like an explosion. Bam. The front door swung open and officers in masks swarmed inside, pointing rifles. Police! Hands up! Police! Harris' wife, an aunt, a son, a grandson, a granddaughter, a great-grandson and a cousin all bolted awake. From the floor above, where one of the Harris daughters lives with her family, came the blast and stench of smoke bombs. Mr. Harris, standing...