Police ~ Services ~ Interactions … 6

28/05/2018

PASSENGER    …       ‘69

 

 

My Detroit City escapade was survived only to face other encounters with similar openness giving way to low-threat, non-escalation experiences.

 

My year in the University of Windsor was filled with mixed reviews. It was a year that began in discovering I was misplaced in post-secondary advancement due to, for one reason or other, an overwhelmed guidance counsellor. The result was me being instructed to depart the institution for a minimum of one-year. I complied.

 

During my acquiescence, I was to make friends that continued the socialization I needed upon entering adulthood. It was during this growing socialization I found myself a passenger in an auto getting a ride home from an event. Half-way to my resident, upon returning from university and getting oriented to Toronto once more, a police-car began flashing its lights causing the driver to pull over. 

 

The officer approached our car and requested the ID of the driver and asked me, sitting in the back, for my ID. Without contesting his request, as I was confused as to the need to see my ID, I handed it over. He went to his vehicle, returning a few minutes later and requested I exit the car. I did- if you recall, my father was a police officer in my birth-country so there was no sense of being singled-out for opposition. The officer requested I accompany him to his Division to ‘clear up an issue’ which, with my friends accompanying, I did.

 

What appeared an hour’s wait, the officer returned and handed me my ID and said I was ‘free to go’. It was then I requested the reason for being here, in front of my friends. He replied there was a ‘warrant for the arrest of a man with my name, for fraud’. I asked, how was I cleared/eliminated from this ‘warrant’, whereupon he said, “The person in question was described as 5’ 10”, and white.” My friends and I looked at one another, nervous laughter building, as we exited the station.

 

Suffice to say, on the way to my residence the conundrum of being taken to the station was questioned. A number of observations arose, the least of which arose from being the only person-of-colour in the vehicle in a neighbourhood were I was an anomaly due to a mixed-marriage. A coupling more common in the 21st century than in the 60s. Gives that questionable meaning on the side of police vehicles, ‘To Serve, and To Protect’! 

 

I was dropped off at my step-father’s residence, not realizing this would not the the last time I would be stopped-for-questioning albeit in the line of duty. Life continued as was Its process …

 

 

 

 

12a. Moving Along

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