As a child, I was also wired to trust & respect police officers; most of us were. But with age, comes learning.
I remember this like it was yesterday.
At 19, my girlfriend & I had a picnic planned in a park. I went to the restroom. When I walked in, I saw a man on the floor, slumped against the wall next to a urinal. I thought, "He'll probably never get drunk again when he realizes he passed out on a dirty restroom floor."
After a few seconds, I realized how quiet it was & took a closer look & saw that he wasn't breathing; he was dead. And the brown swede jacket he was wearing was soaked in dried blood. And the zipper on the gym bag was partly open & there was a bunch of cash in it.
I ran out, told my girlfriend about it & we walked across the street to a gas station & called police. They told us to meet them at the park.
One cop went in the restroom & the other one stayed with us. The cop came out of the restroom & said, "Yeah, that's the 211."
He told us the guy tried to rob the liquor store a block away & the clerk shot him.
The cop asked me if I touched anything in the bathroom. I said, "Only the urinal handle to flush it."
The cop asked me, "Did you see the money in the bag?" I said, "Yes."
The cop asked me, "How much cash did you take?"
I answered, "None, sir. How much cash did YOU take?"
The cop asked me, "Why are you being a smart ass?"
I said, "Because you accused me of being a thief."
The cop says, "No, I didn't; I asked you if you touched the money."
I said, "No, you asked me how much cash I took. Don't you see the difference?"
He said "Pfffft" & walked away, mumbling something about "Long-Haired Freaks." The other cop took our names & addresses.
After I calmed down, I asked my date: "Where do they find such dickheads?"