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When my mom picked me up, I had her drive me to the LA Police Academy. I had heard they sold a license-plate frame that supposedly was cop-friendly—a cop who saw it might not pull you over for a traffic infraction. In the store I noticed a stack of books: the LAPD yearbook. I said I wanted one “as a gift for my uncle, who’s with the LAPD.” It cost $75 but it was amazing, like finding the Holy Grail: it had the picture of every LAPD officer, even the undercover guys assigned to organized crime.
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