Collins wasn't reasonable.
"This could still be used as a weapon," Collins said, apparently unwilling to admit error.
"Officer, it's a mobility cane. It's made of lightweight aluminum. It's designed to fold up. It's not capable of being used as an effective weapon, and I'm a blind man who needs it to walk."
By this point, a small crowd had gathered. The bystanders were becoming more vocal in their objections to what they were witnessing.
"Leave him alone! He's blind!" one man shouted.
"This is harassment!" a woman called out.
Collins was getting agitated by the crowd's reaction. Instead of reassessing the situation, he became more determined to justify his actions.
"Sir, what's your name and where are you going?" Collins demanded.
"My name is Marcus Thompson. I live at 1247 North Central Avenue, Apartment 4B. I was walking to Copper Star Coffee on Third Street. I go there every Thursday at 2:30 p.m. The staff knows me."
This should have been easy to verify. A simple radio call to the coffee shop would have confirmed Marcus's identity and routine. Collins didn't make that call. Instead, he asked Marcus for identification.
Marcus reached slowly for his wallet, narrating his movements to avoid alarming Collins: "I'm reaching into my back pocket for my wallet. It's in my right back pocket."
Marcus handed over his driver's license, which clearly indicated his visual impairment status. In Arizona, licenses for visually impaired individuals are marked with specific codes and restrictions. Collins looked at the license and saw the visual impairment designation. This should have ended the encounter immediately. Instead, Collins questioned whether the license was legitimate.
"How do I know this is real?" Collins asked.