The year was 1971. I was honorably discharged from the Army, and my wife and I visited the fiance of a friend that was still serving in Vietnam. Several months later, Barb and I were invited to their wedding.
As we got off the Pennsylvania Turnpike, we headed to a stop sign at the end of the ramp. When braking to a stop, we noticed a string of five cars stopped by police across the road. We wondered what the problem was, and the only thing we could think of was that the police were checking for drugs.
Since we had nothing to do with drugs, I felt completely safe. My left turn signal was on as I proceeded to make the turn, and all of a sudden, we were also waived over by the police. I could not imagine what I had done. I was told we stopped properly behind the stop sign and looked for oncoming traffic, but we should have pulled up farther to the cross street, stopped and looked for traffic once again before proceeding.
I don’t remember the cost of the ticket (probably minimal in today’s dollars). It’s just as well I don’t because I would be upset again. My first moving violation ever! Now, 44 years have passed, and I have not received another moving violation ticket, not for improper stops, speeding or any other disobedience. That doesn’t mean I’m a perfect driver and obey all the laws all the time. I think my success stems from a generally good obedience of the traffic laws plus a good deal of luck.
What’s the reason for this introduction? I’m about to tell you. However, first if you know any men or women in blue, you must keep the following to yourself (otherwise, please don’t continue to read).
The last week of July, I was making my frequent trek from Honey Brook to Morgantown. While driving on Talbotville Road, I came upon a bicyclist pedaling upgrade with a sharp turn ahead. In my impatience, I went to pull around him by going into the left lane, and all of a sudden a pickup truck came around the bend and down the hill toward me. I had the room to brake and pull behind the bicycle and thought all was swell. The pick-up slowly approached in the opposing lane and slowed to a stop, as did I. We both put down our windows, and a pleasant looking middle-aged man looked at me. Without cuss words, yelling or hand motions, he said in a firm voice, “You were passing him on that sharp curve?”
Now, I should tell you, I am much better at writing down my thoughts than giving adlib speeches. I ignorantly said to him, “I saw you coming.” The man threw his hands up in the air and drove on. By the time the incident sunk into my thick skull, I wanted to turn around and chase after him to apologize, but he was gone.
I thought of two things after the incident. One, the number of road rage incidents we hear about across the country during a year and how some of them end in violence or death. Two, that the man was absolutely right and, hopefully, taught me a lesson in a very courteous way. So, if you have heard any of your friends speak of such an incident on Talbotville Road, please pass this article along to him. To him I say, “You were right and I apologize. Thank you!”