My life almost ended in a case of mistaken identity, like those that are all too common in America’s inner cities. But three things happened that kept me alive. First, I was so surprised that I didn’t run or fight, which, quite honestly, was my first reaction to seeing cops. Second, my next door neighbor came running out of her house screaming, “He’s just a kid!” That made them hesitate. And finally, the fact that there were eight officers, and not two or one, I believe, checked their impulses. So I lived.