Sheriff Swallowell had warned Mike several times before: “You can’t panhandle here. It’s illegal.” Mike would nod, but the next day he would be back. He just needed to eat.
This time, the officer decided to make it official. He pulled out his citation book and asked sternly: “Let me see your ID. I need your identification.”
Mike looked down at his worn shoes. “I don’t have one, Officer.” “Why not?” Swallowell asked. It was a simple question that homeless people are rarely asked.
“I lost everything years ago. I am nobody.”
That confession changed something in the policeman’s eyes. Instead of putting him in handcuffs, he put his pen away. He realized this man wasn’t a criminal. He was just lost.
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