For over two decades, Robert Scott lived a borrowed life — and it almost worked. The 45-year-old Pennsylvania man wanted on burglary and robbery charges spent 23 years hiding in plain sight in Michigan, using one of the most personal disguises imaginable: his own brother’s identity.
It all began on a May morning in 2003, on Sylvanus Avenue in Uniontown, Pennsylvania. Scott and two other suspects forced their way into a home and robbed two people at gunpoint. As one of the victims desperately tried to escape, a firearm was discharged in their direction. Charges were filed. Warrants were issued. Then Scott simply… disappeared.
For more than two decades, the case sat unsolved. But last month, a Pennsylvania State Police trooper in Uniontown — assigned specifically to hunting fugitives — decided to take another hard look.
“This arrest demonstrates the unwavering commitment of law enforcement to pursue justice, regardless of the passage of time.” — Pennsylvania State Police
What investigators uncovered was brazen. Scott had been living in Michigan under his brother’s personal information — using it on official documents and appearing in the Michigan court system entirely under a false identity. He hadn’t just run from the law. He had built a whole new paper trail under someone else’s name.
The U.S. Marshals Service tracked Scott down in Romulus, Michigan, near Detroit, and took him into custody. When confronted, he dropped the act. Troopers confirmed that after his arrest, Scott admitted his real identity on the spot.
He is now awaiting extradition back to Pennsylvania, where he will face the charges that have been waiting for him since 2003.
What This Means: Living under a stolen identity — even a family member’s — is a federal crime on top of the original charges. Scott now faces the 2003 robbery case plus potential identity fraud charges in Michigan. His two decades of freedom may come at a very steep price.
Pennsylvania State Police are urging anyone with information about other fugitives to contact the Uniontown station at 724-439-7111.
Justice doesn’t always move fast. But if the Uniontown case proves anything — it moves.
