Fear.
Staring down the barrel of a policeman's gun, I realized what fear could be. I was not guilty of any serious crime, a broken taillight on my old car, my physical size and the well worn tattered clothes that I wore. I made no sudden moves as the officer came to my open car window. The officer, no taller than five feet five, said in a loud and authoritative voice, “Out of the car.” Naturally I complied. As I stepped out of the car and stood up to my full six foot seven height, the officer's eyes widened. He immediately took two steps back and drew his gun. My hands went into the air slowly, and in a soft voice I said, “Please put the gun down.” The officer, after a moment, lowered his gun. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The officer said not a word, replaced his gun to its holster, turned and walked back to his car. This scene had ended without incident, and without a citation being issued. To this day I don't know which one of us was more frightened.
This happened to me when I was 18 years old and it happened just as I have written it down.
I hope to never repeat it.