Written by: Dr. Louis Kaufman, DDS, FAGD, MBA | Dental Industry Consultant and Lecturer
The Phone Call That Changed Everything
On July 18, 2025, I received a phone call from someone claiming to be a Highland Park police officer. The caller had detailed personal information about me, including my date of birth, business address, and details about a check I had received from the federal government through the ERC program. The caller stated that there had been a mistake, that I had been overpaid, and that a warrant had been issued for my arrest due to my supposed failure to appear in court to repay the government. The fraudster said, “You missed your hearing; however, we have a signed document stating that you would be there. You are now in contempt, and that is why a warrant for your arrest has been issued.”
The Impersonation Deepens
I inquired about the authenticity of the call and was informed that a watch commander would be contacting me. Within seconds, another call came in, appearing to be from the Highland Park Police Department. A new voice confirmed the first caller’s identity and explained that I needed to pay a fine. Once paid, I could come to the police station for handwriting analysis to prove I had not signed for the subpoena. I offered to go to the station immediately but was told I could not set foot on federal property or I would be arrested. This increased my anxiety and confusion.
The Scam Unfolds
I was instructed to withdraw cash and go to a federal kiosk, all while staying on the phone. The kiosk turned out to be a Bitcoin machine. When I questioned this, I was told that the federal government was using cryptocurrency for transactions. This seemed plausible, given recent news about Bitcoin and the Treasury Department’s involvement in cryptocurrency. After completing the transaction, they demanded more money and said I would receive a call from the Lake County Sheriff’s Department. Soon after, I received that call.
Throughout this ordeal, I was shaking and extremely nervous. The callers had convincing answers to all my questions, including specific details about a restaurant across from the Highland Park police station. It wasn’t until later that I realized it was a scam. I managed to keep the impersonator on the line until I could access another phone, then used the excuse of taking care of my old dog to buy some time. Together with Jill, I called the Lake County Sheriff’s Department to check for a warrant. We were asked why we were calling. I recounted some of what had taken place. They said, “We would never call you. We would just show up at your door.” They told me to call the Highland Park Police Department directly from a different line. I hung up on the scammer after a few choice words.
Reporting the Incident
Jill and I went to the police station and explained what had happened. The officer told me I was exactly the kind of person these scammers target: someone with no criminal record, a successful doctor, and a recipient of PPP and ERC funds. He explained that with so much personal information available online, it becomes easier for scammers to sound convincing. He also told me about “ghosting” phone lines to make it appear as if the call is coming from a legitimate number.
Reflections and Aftermath
The officer reassured me that these scams happen countless times each day across the country and encouraged me not to let it define me
As we sat in the station, the reality of the situation started to settle in. The adrenaline that had kept me moving through the ordeal slowly gave way to a dull ache of disbelief and disappointment. Jill squeezed my hand, offering silent reassurance. I replayed the conversations in my head, marveling at the scammers’ calculated manipulation—their ability to exploit both technology and fear with chilling precision.
The officers patiently walked us through what had happened, assuring us we were not alone and that these fraudsters were operating at a staggering scale. They outlined how criminals routinely “spoof” phone numbers, mimic official language, and even research public records to build credible stories. Their tactics ranged from threats and intimidation to feigned sympathy, all designed to isolate their targets and compel rash decisions. The knowledge that others—many others—had experienced similar betrayals was both a comfort and a sorrow.
In a moment of quiet, I tried to anchor myself in gratitude—grateful for Jill’s quick thinking and the officer’s compassion—even as a sense of vulnerability lingered. I recognized how insidious these scams had become, how anyone—regardless of education, profession, or vigilance—could be swept up in their web.
Determined to reclaim a measure of agency, I resolved not to be defined by what had happened but to become a resource for others who might one day find themselves in my shoes.
As I absorbed the officer’s words, the reality of how vulnerable our digital lives have become continued to sink in. The line between authenticity and deception, once clear, now felt dangerously thin. I struggled with a mix of disbelief and indignation—how could I, someone so careful, have fallen for such a scheme? But the more I listened to stories from the officers and, later, from others in the waiting area, the more I recognized that this kind of manipulation was a plague spreading far beyond my own experience.
Even as my mind wrestled with self-doubt, I was struck by the compassion and matter-of-fact support offered by the law enforcement team. Their understanding demystified the shame I felt, transforming it from a personal failing into part of a much larger story—one shared by countless people from all walks of life. Each tale, I realized, was a pebble in a vast river of fraud, reshaping the landscape of trust for everyone.
Determined to turn my ordeal into something constructive, I began thinking about preventative measures, education, and advocacy. The idea of sharing my story—however raw—started to feel like the first step toward healing and helping others. If even one person could avoid a similar fate by learning from my experience, perhaps then the episode would serve a greater purpose.
I reminded myself to keep things in perspective: my loved ones are healthy, I am healthy, and no one was physically hurt. Money can be made again, but people cannot be replaced.
While waiting at the station, we overheard another victim’s story—an older gentleman who’d been told he was in contempt for missing a federal grand jury appearance and needed to pay a fine. He was wise enough to file a report.
Later, as I prepared my witness statement, I called the scam number again and was told I was reaching the Lake County Sheriff’s Department. A quick Google search showed the number was associated with a nearby business. I shared this with the investigating officer.
As I continue to reflect, the feeling of being hypnotized—an out-of-body experience—is what sticks in my head. I know it all sounds bizarre. It was like I was in a trance, part of me overwhelmed with the thought that I could be going to prison. Thinking I am going to miss my wedding. We won’t be able to go on our honeymoon. I am going to lose my dental license and my practice. I must get this finished so Max, my dog, can get to his veterinarian appointment. All this was swirling in my head.
Emotional Impact
The experience left me with a complex cascade of emotions—humiliation, anger, relief, and a lingering sense of unease. Sleep proved elusive that night, my mind circling the events and all the ways things might have been worse. Yet beneath the anxiety, a new resolve began to take root. I knew that the only way to counter shame and isolation was through openness and action.
This experience left me feeling angry, embarrassed, and foolish, as if I had been taken advantage of. Yet, as I continue to process what happened, it becomes easier to accept and move forward.
I have chosen to share the story so that something like this doesn’t happen to someone else.
What can you do to prevent this from happening to you? If you ever receive such a phone call from someone identifying themselves as law enforcement, tell them you want their phone number and that your attorney will be in touch. Be aware that the only way the federal government will communicate with you in such a manner is by United States mail. If a summons is served, it must be served in person by a law enforcement officer in your area—typically the sheriff. After receiving the phone call, go directly to your local police department and report the incident.
Don’t think for a second that this couldn’t happen to you or a loved one. Just like any professional who hones their craft, these criminals are honing theirs. I often think to myself, “Imagine what a better place the world would be if these criminals could use their talents to benefit society.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Dr. Louis Kaufman, DDS, FAGD, MBA, is a 1995 graduate of the University of Illinois College of Dentistry who blends clinical practice, education, and research to deliver personalized, big-picture dental care.
A Fellow of the Academy of General Dentistry, he advances the profession through lectures, publications, and leadership. Rooted in a 70-year family legacy, his patient-centered approach continues to inspire practice growth nationwide.
His areas of expertise include implants, cosmetic smile design, 3D imaging, and full-mouth reconstruction.
FEATURED IMAGE CREDIT: AlexanderTrou/Shutterstock.com.
