it's that time again. part 573 of "BroadArrow makes friends with law enforcement: handcuff edition".
so, i have given up running on the chip-n-seal in the cornfields because, well, my wife has metastatic breast cancer and thus some unknown but all-too-soon expiration date and i don't want my children to be orphans. so, i have taken to running on paths and literally gravel tracks closer to my house and near the university's arboretum (actually, part of it follows the route for the cross-country meets, but who's counting). as i was getting close to the gravel, i was literally thinking to myself, "well, i guess i won't have any more run-ins with the police since i am in the parks and off the roads..." ha! famous last words.
after finishing the gravel segment and a dirt segment, i went back to the paved path that parallels the road and was on my way to putting in an extra mile and a half or so....
... when i heard sirens and saw lights and heard revving engines, i was like, "hmmm... something must be going down behind me." and then they stopped a little ways in front of me, hopped out, and yelled "STOP!" i'm thinking, ok, there must be an active shooter call or something stupid and they need me safe and out of the way. and then they start talking about keep your hands where we can see them and kneel down on the ground and put your hands on your head and "watch for cross-fire".
oh. i guess *i'm* the active shooter. great. not.
so that is twenty minutes of my life i'll never get back: kneeling, handcuffed, trying to gently point out in response to their questions that yes, i'm out running. no, i don't have a gun. no, i don't know why that *ahem* person decided to call the cops on me. i have no idea what that person told them because apparently they had two officers interviewing the "RP" (reporting person) in addition to the, dunno, 3-5 cops in front of me and who knows how many behind me. but it was something about "we came out because we got a call that someone with your description, blue jeans and a white shirt, was running down race street with a gun."
i'm still a little unclear on the legal limbo i was in. they claimed i was being detained, but not arrested. but they still wanted to read me my miranda rights. which then puts you in the bind of "do i want a lawyer with me when i tell them that i was just out for a run and that is why i was in this area, you know, running?"
anyways, the upshot of the matter is that they eventually decided that i was not actually a problem, that my information really was in the system (yes, 911 called *me* to ask for help a couple weeks ago, so they definitely have my information; and, by happenstance one of the deputies who stopped me out in the cornfields had called me the day before that; but that's a different story) and they had no reason to think i was a problem so they only needed, say, 1 or 2 cops leaning over me instead of 3 or 4.
they ended up being as cool about it as they could be, given the circumstances. once it was all said and done, i gave them my speech about giving a lecture for my friend's "race in contemporary america" class (or whatever it is) about how going barefoot can give you a little window into how the not-upper-middle-class-white-people have to get along in the world. and wonder of wonders, since they were the university cops (all the city and whoever else had cleared out by that point), they agreed. in fact, i had barely finished my sentence when the (you will not be surprised to learn) black cop was already pulling out his business card, pressing it into my hand, and assuring me that he was ready, willing, and able to do so.
thus, i ended up with two business cards and a selfie with the cops and flashing lights.
and, as a window into how stressful such encounters are for the police side of things, it wasn't until they had me stood back up and uncuffed that they noticed, "uh, did you need your shoes back? did we take those?"
anyways, the most disturbing part of the whole thing was this: i ended up with at least 4 or 5 guns pointed at me and very intimidating people shouting directions and generally exerting existential control over me and MY HEART RATE NEVER WENT UP. my (university) cop neighbor said, yeah, that's probably not a good thing....
for those of you keeping score at home, that is 5 months and 1 day since the last time i talked with law enforcement.
sigh.
be safe out there.