On a summer night in the early 1970s, two Salt Lake County sheriff’s deputies questioned me in connection with a reported aggravated assault.
The deputies had dealt with me before — vandalism, burglary, possession of alcohol, etc. So when it was reported that I attempted to shoot someone, it seemed credible.
Naturally, I told them it didn’t happen. The investigation consisted of a search of my car, efforts to determine my whereabouts at a certain time and several unofficial threats if they could eventually prove otherwise.
Whatever official report on this particular exchange, if such exists, is probably in some dusty box in a forgotten county archive.