I have a dumb story from a recent traffic stop which is interesting to me in light of Paingod's informative post and gameoverman's observation. I'm not sure it advances the topic at hand, but I did want to share it with OO for posterity. Feel free to scroll by if you don't give two squats about The Meal vs. Michigan State Trooper, District 5.
A few weeks ago I utilized the maintenance contract for my car by taking it into the dealership for an oil change. They informed me there was a recall based on failing crankshaft bearings and the process of changing this bearing meant that I'd have to drive away in a loaner vehicle. Turns out my bearing had failed, my crankshaft was grooved, and I was the recipient of a new engine in my 2015 vehicle. I was also set back about a week on heading out on a trip spanning six states two time zones. But I (eventually) successfully spent the first night on the road in Des Moines, IA (with travel coordination assistance provided by the loving and talented MHS, getting me into a hotel for the grand price of free). The next morning I proceeded through the rest of Iowa, through Illinois (though the route from Joiliet to the Indiana state line mimicked a Dennis The Menace cartoon in a most unpleasant manner). In describing the speed laws for my six state journey, I remarked that CO, NE, and MI all have commuter-friendly 75 MPH limits, IA and IL a less friendly 70 MPH limit, and IN a downright shameful 45 MPH limit (the entire ~30 mile trip through the Gary environs is a soul crushing construction zone). It was roughly 2pm Eastern Time when I made my way over the Michigan state line.
Roughly at the second New Buffalo exit, I saw a State Trooper in the median at a 45° facing traffic. I was in a pack of cars in a construction zone and noted we were all roughly 5 MPH below the posted limit. I was a bit surprised when I noted in my rear view mirror that the trooper was pulling out, but I figured that at some point everyone's done doing what they're doing and they need to go do something else. Turns out that was wishful thinking.
About a mile down the road his bubble came on in my rear view. I pulled over into the right hand lane, turned on my hazards, and proceeded another half mile or so until there was a break in the construction zone allowing for me to pull safely into the shoulder and give him safe access to my vehicle. I rolled down my windows, turned off my radio, killed my engine, and diligently left both hands on my wheel. He approached, and his opening line (through my passenger side window) was "Hi there, how are you doing today?" "Well, I
had been doing pretty well until a few moments ago."
He informed me that he pulled me over due to expired tags and he "
would be issuing me a citation for that infraction." There was no possibility presented that he had any leniency in the matter, it was a foregone conclusion that I'd be getting a ticket. I didn't love that outcome (I've been jobless since last March), but I accepted that this was a legitimate outcome for a mistake I had made. I did express slight disappointment: "I'm not thrilled, but I understand that you've got to follow your procedures." As gameoverman mentions in his story, the officer had a semi hostile demeanor at this point (I'll get a bit more into that in a moment). We went through my paperwork (yep, registration was only good through February 2017) and he had me exit my car. My windows were down and my cell phone was sitting on my passenger seat which left me slightly uncomfortable, but I didn't say anything about it.
He then had me step between our vehicles and asked if I had any weapons. I said that I had a pocket knife (a cheapo 2.5" blade that goes with me everywhere except airports) in my right front pocket and he fished around in that pocket for it. He then patted me down to make sure there were no more weapons. He proceeded to ask a few questions about my intentions. I was headed into Michigan for a family visit for about a week. He perked up at that and said I must have some luggage then for my visit. "Yes, sir." And his next line was, "You aren't bringing any of that
Colorado product with you, are you?" "No, sir."
This was the crux of his stop. It turns out that I was going to be spending a big chunk of my vacation with a retired Livonia, MI PD Lt (37 years), and a 10+ year narcotics officer (Grand Rapids, MI). "That's what the district 5 troopers are there for. He was doing exactly what they're trained to do." Courtesy luggage check at the state line for out-of-state plates.
A couple of germane details. Colorado cars, unlike Michigan vehicles, have a front license plate which makes it stand out (though only differentiated from the still-frequent Illinois front-plate-bearing vehicles by the color and design). My car is a hatch back with tinted windows. When he stuck his head in my passenger window he could easily see a complete lack of luggage in the crew cabin (and a Valentine One radar detector hanging off my visor).
He continued to ramp up his aggressive behavior with me after our little conversation. "Please proceed to my truck, and get in the passenger side back seat." Ugh. Yeah, no door handles on the inside of that seat, no cushion (just low-slung hard plastic to rest my ass on), and quarter-inch plexi glass between me and the front seat (not even mesh). Now I'm really not thrilled about my cell phone and wide-open car. I would have been in my rights to ask if I had been arrested, but he was kind enough to tell me directly that I hadn't been. The "yet" was unspoken, but virtually hung in the air by the tone of his voice.
We spoke through the glass (NYC cabbies have a little window they can open, at least) at high decibels and I conveyed a bit more background for him. Had I ever been pulled over before? "Not very recently, but yes I have." (Funny story, last time I got pulled over, the officer heavily implied that I drive more recklessly on my way home. Probably told that story a time or two on here already.) So he should expect that my license comes up clean? "Absolutely." He ran my license and it came back as I promised. "So you're visiting family, that means you used to live in Michigan?" "Yes." "And you had a MI drivers license?" "Yes." He ran that as well, and it came back clean. At this point he proceeded to get out of his truck and spring me from the back seat.
My only-answering-his-questions with the bare minimum responses prevented him from getting any probable cause for going into my actual luggage. That didn't guarantee he wouldn't overstep his bounds, but I did everything right by not getting all chatty. I could've had a bale of pot in the back of my car, and he'd have never known. (It does come in bales, right?) This is exactly why he was using such provoking language and behavior with me. He was trying to give me a reason to "crack" and spill the beans about any illicit behavior I was potentially perpetrating.
After he ran my licenses and let me out of his truck, his entire demeanor changed. It was like we were old college buddies just short of back-slapping each other. He gave me my paperwork and knife back, and said "Take care of those tags when you get back to Colorado. I'm, of course, just giving you a warning today." In that moment, all I could do was internally steam that he made me thank him for doing me such a
big favor. But our last bit of interaction was what steamed me up the most. I was ready to walk back and get behind the wheel, when he pointed out "Plain as day, you can see your tags say [2] and [17], so I
had to pull you over." Which is great, except that he only could see my front plates from where he was sitting in the median, and wouldn't you know it, but the only tags on Colorado plates are on the back of the vehicle.
My LEO friends ensure me that his entire stop was done exactly how they're trained to do them, 100% by the book. I can only imagine how things would've gone had I refused to get out of my car, insisted on him telling me whether or not I was under arrest, and clammed up when he asked simple background questions about my upcoming plans. Still, I was smart about making sure the stop would be as comfortable for him as I could and answering his questions without embellishment. I think this is my tenth traffic stop in my years of driving (grand total: 1 speeding ticket, 1 at-fault accident, 7 slow-down-and-have-a-nice-days, and 1
no-cops-between-here-and-your-house-so-enjoy-your-ride-home).
Be smart. They're trying to do a job and you're trying to get away with a minimum of fuss. No reason to make it any tougher on them or yourself than it has to be.
Paingod wrote:What I advocate is "Resist Unlawful Orders" by knowing and exerting your rights when you interact with the police. So many of them rely heavily on violating basic rights within moments of a stop or interaction that it's disturbing. The
second they tell you you're under arrest or attempt to arrest you, you need to comply or you're giving them easy ammo for additional charges. At that point you do nothing, say nothing, shut up, and ask for a lawyer.
Up to that point, I think it's good for them to know that people have rights. Depending on your area:
- It's very likely that you're allowed to record police activity for your protection, or from a safe distance
- Police like to push "Safe Distance" out to a point where recording becomes much less useful, but still keeps them honest
- You don't need to present any kind of ID or give them your personal information just because they ask for it during a random interaction or non-criminal stop
- If it's criminal or they're writing a ticket, obviously you comply. I think Utah and Arizona are okay with being "police states" and are exceptions
- You never need to consent to searches
- You never need to answer a single question - simply say "I decline to answer any questions"
- Anything you say will be used against you, even well-meaning statements, and you can screw yourself accidentally
- You probably don't need to roll down your window more than a few inches to talk to them in a normal traffic stop
- Asking you to roll your window down further is essentially asking you to consent to a cursory search
- You don't need to get out of your car unless you're being arrested
- Ask if you're being arrested. If not, decline to get out. If you are, comply.
- You may not need to roll down your window -at all- during a random DUI checkpoint stop
- In some places, this is seen as an illegal stop & search, and rolling down your window can give them a "whiff" of suspicion needed to give you DUI test
There's some more, but a lot of videos cover these things and show how to use them correctly to make sure the police don't just trash your rights at the start of an interaction. A good cop will understand what you're doing and work with it. A bad/ignorant cop will escalate and you should ask for their supervisor.
gameoverman wrote:One time I got pulled over for running a stop sign. It was near my home, a T intersection. The north/south street was the part I was on, with the east street being the I part of the T. I ran the sign because from the north or the south you can clearly see about 1/3 a block of that east bound street, and I saw the intersection was completely deserted, no cars or pedestrians. So I rolled right through without even slowing down.
Of course, my luck, there was a cop parked just far enough down that street that I couldn't see him. He pulled me over. After I gave him my paperwork, he seemed to decide something then he said "I can't give you a break. There's a school a few blocks down that way and there could be kids around".
My first inclination was to point out "I didn't ask you to cut me a break" but the talking shiat side of me lost to the self preserving side of me and I kept my mouth shut. I got a ticket, which I fought and won btw but that's a different story.
In some of these 'cops behaving badly' stories I can't help but notice the civilians didn't do or say the self preserving thing. Believe me, I really, REALLY wanted to wise off to that cop. The way he implied I was hoping he'd cut me a break irritated me, I very much wanted to point out that I didn't give a shiat what he had to say about anything. But you can't indulge that side of yourself unless you're willing to get your ass kicked or worse. In the end, I wasn't willing to flush my good day down the toilet.