Humiliated, Angry, Ashamed, Brown.

I then saw a Seattle Police patrol vehicle driving on a nearby path, one that was inaccessible to the public, and parking in the hilltop parking lot. At that point, I knew what was coming. A few minutes later, I watched in dismay as eight men descended from the parking lot, down the hill, making a bee-line for me and my tripod.

One of the Seattle policemen, using his strongest, most authoritative voice, gripping his holstered sidearm, was now demanding to see my ID. I asked what this was about and why I had to show him my ID.

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