Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: Violation (04/04/24)
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TITLE: Same-o, Same-o .... Until it Wasn’t | Previous Challenge Entry
By Barbara Culler
04/10/24 -
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Slowing at said intersection, I spotted a black and white police car parked in the empty lot between the tracks and the corner convenience store. Shrugging my shoulders and smiling, my Kia rumbled over the metallic rails, stopping at the red light. After adding additional seconds of scanning for oncoming vehicles, I slowly merged onto the new street and headed home.
Whoop! Whoop! Blue and red strobe lights and the double blast of siren — indicating the consequences of some offense, materialized behind me.
Whaaat? Why am I being pulled over? I did nothing wrong. Teeth clenched and tightly gripping the steering wheel, I maneuvered to the side of the road and turned off the motor.
Struggling to take calming breaths as the officer approached the car, I whispered a quick prayer for guidance.
“Show me your driver’s license, ma’am.”
Heart pounding, I reached for my purse on the seat beside me, fumbled for my wallet, removed the card, and handed it to the officer.
Taking my license, he queried: “Do you know why I pulled you over?”
Shaking my head: “No. I saw you, and came to a full stop stop at the red light. It was safe to turn when I did.”
“You did not see the sign that reads: ‘Stop here on red?’”
Feeling my face heat up before glancing back at the intersection: “Ummm, nooo. Where was it?”
The police officer pointed in the general area where I first spotted his cruiser: “Over there before the train crossing signal.”
While the officer returned to his vehicle to check my identification, I rigidly positioned my hands on the steering wheel while pondering this new information. There’s never been a sign there. For five years, I’ve gone this direction. When did it show up?
Eyeing his return through my side mirror, I braced myself for the outcome.
“Here you go, ma’am.” Handing back my license, the officer wrote up the ticket as he educated me.
“A traffic control sign is in place to help prevent accidents.”
Taking my citation, I drove home feeling angry. Was this some form of a speed trap? How often have I driven that street and have never seen the signpost? Desiring to see this alleged sign, I made plans to return the next day to snap photos proving my innocence.
It was early morning when I drove to the scene of the crime. Parking in the convenience store lot, I walked the few yards seeking out the US Department of Motor Vehicles' newest directive. Sure enough, there it stood: a tall white sign with bold black lettering proclaiming: “Stop here on red.” Beneath the words, an arrow pointed downward. Nothing was blocking it from a driver’s view. Indeed, I had transgressed.
For several days following my infarction, I observed one or two patrol cars stationed in the empty lot. Once law enforcement no longer staked out the site, I continued the practice of coming to a complete stop before crossing the railroad tracks, and fully stopping at the white line before turning right on red.
No more traffic tickets for me!
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