Officer Pete Peterson, now an instructor at the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center in Brunswick, Georgia, was working patrol in a much burglarized Illinois neighborhood several years ago. There had been a robbery in the neighborhood and the perpetrator had been arrested, but the police were looking for a possible pickup car. Officer Peterson stopped a vehicle that fit the profile that had been circulated. He asked the driver for his license, and the man quickly complied.
Peterson glanced at the license, did a quiet double-take, then asked the driver to repeat the information on the license. The driver again cooperated. After several minutes of questioning, however, Peterson said, “I don’t think you’re Mark Peterson.”
“What?” the driver protested. “No, that’s me!”
“I don’t think so,” Peterson repeated.
“I don’t know what you’re getting at,” the driver retorted indignantly. “But I can’t stand here all day. I’ve got an appointment.”
For several more minutes he kept insisting the driver’s license was his and that Pete was wasting his time.
Finally, Officer Peterson showed him his name badge. “You see, my name’s Peterson. I’ve got a little brother named Mark, and this is his driver’s license. My folks live at the address listed here. So I’m pretty sure that you stole this license!”
The driver just sank. “This has been the worst day for me,” he sighed.
The day got even worse when he heard the jail door slam shut. He had three outstanding felony warrants for his arrest.