In the last year, many of you have asked me to give you an update on the incident in lower Manhattan during which I was arrested by an arrogant police lieutenant from the 13th Precinct.

I have not been able to say anything because, for the entire length of that time, I had no idea what investigators from the Civilian Complaint Review Board had concluded.

That is until now.

In a letter from the CCRB I received this week, I was told what I knew to be true 16 months ago.

They found that I was arrested and issued a summons by a police lieutenant as a result of his misconduct, but they felt he did not use excessive physical force to do so.

As punishment, they recommend what is called a "Command Discipline," which has a maximum penalty of losing about 10 vacation days.

The Police Commissioner will ultimately decide what will happen in this case and he could in fact take nothing from this cop at all.

Considering my humiliation at the time, the potential for having to spend hundreds or even thousands of dollars to defend myself, the smearing I took in print and the fact that I was left high and dry by folks both in the Police Department and elsewhere to deal with this on my own, 10 days of vacation pay or less seems almost like non-vindication.

While I wish such trauma on no one, for me it was an eye-opening experience that provided insight about some cops’ power – both in the corporate and government worlds – and about simply being black.

Regardless of all the warm fuzzy feelings we have now about the brave men and women who are among New York’s Finest, we should remember that cops like this lieutenant are still out there like land mines in Sarajevo, just waiting for someone to find them by accident.

I know that night when this police officer walked on the scene — while I wasn’t the quietest person on the street after being insulted by an unhappy glorified meter maid — I was respectful and obeyed his commands. But still I believe his intent was to make me suffer for daring to be uppity and stand up for myself. I cannot imagine how that night would have gone if I resisted the false arrest.

I can now imagine how someone might want to not have their liberties taken away from them based on the whim of a malevolent civil servant wrapped up in the guise of law and order.

I can see now how someone could get hurt when faced with the possibility of being wronged by an abuse of power.

I can see how a family could receive a late night phone call informing them their loved one is no longer with them because he or she didn’t submit to the humiliation or abuse.

One day this lieutenant will be a captain, if he isn’t already, and then possibly a deputy inspector, leading his troops by his example.

So imagine, exponentially, my experience being seen as appropriate behavior by dozens or hundreds of other cops.

Then there is the issue of how long it takes to get an answer from the Civilian Complaint Review Board.

The time that passed allowed this lieutenant to get promoted, retire and even mess-up some other person’s life during that period of 16 months.

He was allowed to look good while the specter of being arrested made me look bad and forced me to defend myself to my employers and the public.

So what happens now, you might ask.

My answer right now is . . . nothing.

I am stuck in the middle of a no-man’s land quandary that’s difficult to contemplate.

So much time has passed I believe it may be even too late to sue and doing that does me more harm than good.

During the time of a lawsuit, I would not be allowed to cover stories involving the police, thus reducing my effectiveness as a reporter.

But the other side of this sword is to do nothing.

In my heart of hearts, I know doing nothing validates the actions of this lieutenant, whose conduct was misc

onduct and abuse of power, even though it took so long for this truth to be validated.

Justice delayed is truly justice denied.

People all over our community and this City wait for the results of criminal trials to be convicted or exonerated; they wait for civil trials to get paid for their suffering or be denied, or on the simplest level they wait for a civilian body set up to decide if police are treating the public with courtesy and fairness.

Despite the anticipation of its arrival and some satisfaction from its content, the simple letter I received still leaves me feeling like the perpetrator of my injustice got away with it.