Getting Picked out on a Police Identity Parade...

...taught me a lesson that has stayed with me...

1980 was an interesting time...

At 17 Years old I had left home and moved to London. During the winter of that year I had ended up sleeping on tube stations and trains to avoid the cold, I discovered that if I agreed to have drug counselling I could get Pie and Mash at one of the charity shelters in the East End..

I couldn't afford food let alone the drugs, but I learned how to fake some of the signs of addiction which meant I have had counselling for all types of drugs including addiction to Methylated Spirits and Brasso - which until then I hadn't realised were addictions that were available to me...

If you get the chance - just smell at an open bottle of Methylated Spirits, and imagine how desperate someone must be to even consider drinking the stuff..

Note - don't it will kill you...

Then one day, I was "invited" to participate in an Identity Parade by the local Police.

Picture Credit - www.geeknado.com

Apparently a gang of youths had attacked a family in North London, and the father had died as a results of the injuries he sustained - the alleged attackers had been charged with Murder...

All of us were asked to place a sticky plaster over our right earl lobe - the person charged with offence wore an ear ring and the ideas was that we should all look as "similar" as possible..

Back then, there was no glass screen or partition to separate those of us "on parade" from the people - the family of the murdered man - who were attempting to pick out the perpetrator...

First, the wife came into the room, escorted by a Woman Police Constable. She walked along the line up and looked into our eyes intently - we had been instructed to each look at a spot on the opposing wall of the room and not show any emotion or hold eye contact with any of the victims as they looked at us...

She didn't recognise anyone, then her teenage son did the same and again, couldn't recognise anyone in the line up..

Finally, her teenage daughter came into the room, again escorted by a WPC...

Her eyers were red, she was clearly distraught by the whole process and she was shaking and had to be supported by her escort as she stumbled along the line up...

She got to the end and then turned round for a final look - then collapsed on the floor in tears sobbing...

Still not able to look away from the spot on the opposing wall, all this was happening in my peripheral vision; on a human level I wanted to console her and help her regain composure. Being in a room with someone who has witnessed their father being brutally murdered in the street is a sobering experience...

I could sense her mood changing from anguish to anger; she pointed and screamed..

"That's the ba$£@rd there - No 3..."

As she stood up using here renewed energy she made a lurch towards the line up and swung hare arms and fists, spitting and hissing as she did...

She had to be restrained by the officers and was take out screaming and kicking promising vengeance, cancer and a slow death to No 3 in line line up...

We were all somewhat shaken by this experience - in the line up with me was the suspect and five soldiers drafted in from Chelsea Barracks specially for the occasion...

As we began to relax and breathe sight of relief, the suspect was escorted out of the room; I noted that he had a big smile on his face as he left...

Turns out, I was No 3 in the line up, and had been the only person identified by any member of the victims family...

As I had this fact pointed out to me by the soldiers in the room, two of the biggest Coppers I had ever seen came in to the room with handcuffs and truncheons drawn, and made straight for me..

I was cuffed and escorted to a cell below the Police Station, my boot laces were removed and my belt confiscated - as the handcuffs were removed and I was ushered into the cell, one the biggest Coppers in the world said..

"Sit down, shut up and think about what you've done - we'll be back for you later.."

As a 17 year old, this was all quite terrifying...

I sat in the cold cell and began to think.

Not only had I ended up sleeping on trains and eating at the charity shelters, I looked like a murderer too...

What I realised was that I had to change my lifestyle and quick. It could have been my family that were attempting to identify someone in a line up that had murdered me in some disgusting back street or platform...

The people I was associating with came from this world, not one I was used to, but one that I could see was becoming increasingly difficult to get away from - there is a strange intoxication of the spirit that being even marginally associated with it brings on...

I decided to make an agreement with myself, that if I got out of this situation, I would figure out a way of getting my life back on track - I made deals with any of the Gods that would listen to me, I promised them too, that if just this once they helped me out, I'd be good...

With raised senses, I noticed the echo of my breathing in the gloss painted cell, the graffiti scratched into the walls, the noise of traffic outside, distant voices and shouts from other inmates.

After about 30 minutes - which seemed more like 30 hours - I heard a large key begin to open the complex lock on the door. I remember thinking that it sounded like a well engineered mechanism; there is something satisfying and reassuring to an engineer when a mechanism sounds so precise and well made; guns have the same satisfying well engineered sound as they are loaded and fired...

The two biggest Coppers in the world came into the cell with me.

I could smell the streets on their uniforms, I could smell coffee on their breath and see the stubble on the faces and even noticed that they were wearing different styles of shoes - strange what you notice when you think you are about to get a good kicking...

A strange sense of calm comes over people when the uncertainty of the future is removed, regardless of how bad the situation actually is, when it becomes imminent, calm prevails...

I braced myself and prepared to coil up and protect as many of my soft fleshy bits as I could; for a split second I wondered if I should take the initiative and at least get a punch into one of them before I went down on the floor; I quickly thought better of it...

Then, one of them smiled and the other started to laugh uncontrollably...

"Here you go mate..."

My boot laces and belt were handed back to me...

"We were just messing with you; you are free to go, thanks for your help with the parade..."

I walked out of the cell and up the stairs into the waiting area - still full of about 25 soldiers who had been invited to participate in the proceedings...

As I entered the room - there was a huge cheer and and round of applause...

Apparently, being cuffed and put into a cell had been their idea and the two biggest Coppers in the world went along with it and thought it would be highly amusing too...

As I left the station, I decided to keep my promise to myself and change the way I lived my life; in hindsight the tow biggest Coppers in the world actually did me a favour, they made me think...

Sometimes in life we need fear to be the emotion that helps us choose, sometimes we need two of the biggest Coppers in the world to get us to think about what we have done such that we can make a simple decision to stop doing it in the future...

You can find out more about David, his events programmes and workshops by checking out his website at or you can email him at davidholland@resultsrulesok.com ....