“Do you know why I stopped you this evening?”
“No sir, I was going the speed limit…”
“You have a taillight out, and you failed to stop before entering the roadway back there at the gas station. Do you have your license and registration?”
“Uh, yeah, it’s right here… I’ll get that fixed as soon as possible. I didn’t even know it was out. I guess I’ve been working so much that I didn’t notice—”
“Sir, I’m detecting the odor of marijuana coming from your vehicle. Can you step out of the car and place your hands behind your back? You’re being detained while I conduct a search of your vehicle. This other officer will collect your documents.”
This was routine police work at the time. Today, it’s the part of my career that haunts me the most.
From 2017 to 2020, that was me. I was a city cop at a medium-sized department in Virginia. I arrested people for marijuana possession. Today, I stand for a different cause.
A Little Background
I grew up in a very small town in rural Virginia, where fewer than 100 people called home. To say it was heavily religious and conservative would be an understatement. Most people owned farms, and a traffic jam meant getting stuck behind a combine or a horse and buggy. It’s strikingly different from where I now live in Seattle, Washington.
Growing up there, I learned early that drugs were bad and that people who used them ended up like the guys living in run-down trailers up the road. Combine that mentality with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder—something I remember dealing with as early as 2001—and heavy religious thinking, and you get a kid who steered hard away from cannabis.
I didn’t experiment …
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Author: Ewan Mercer / High Times
