Gripped by fear, anger during bogus traffic stop in Orlando
By DOUGLAS SPANGLER
Published August 20, 2004
Nothing could persuade me to do anything illegal, not just because it isn't in my ethical universe, but also because there is hardly anything I could think of that would be worse than actually being in jail. There would be no problem in choosing my phobia for TV's Fear Factor. Just put me in a cell and watch me sweat.
That is why an experience near Orlando was both frightening and revealing to me.
My wife and I were maneuvering through Mouse Town traffic, which is like Tampa Bay's traffic multiplied by two, when I saw the flashing lights in my rearview mirror. Because I have been accident-free all of my driving life and because I could count the number of tickets I have received on one finger, let alone one hand, I was really shocked to see that colored, whirling light was stalking me.
The state trooper who emerged from his vehicle marched (they always march, never saunter) to my car and twirled his finger, indicating I had better roll down my window pronto. I asked him in true puzzlement, "What is the problem?" (or words to that effect, because I am not used to peering upward at a guy who appeared to be 5-foot-6 or so, but who looked at least 10 feet tall to me.)
He sternly informed me that I had done a U-turn in an area that did not allow U-turns. I unsteadily inquired whether he was absolutely sure that there was a "No U-turn" sign where I had just driven. It was obviously a mistake to question his authority, but despite my fear of the law and its consequences, I managed to persuade him that I could get out of the car and we could go back to see the place where I began my turn.
We both walked back to the area where the alleged illegal turn had taken place, and voila! There was no sign prohibiting turns, U or otherwise. Obviously flustered at this turn of events, the trooper then proceeded to say that I had been tailgating another car. This new charge took me aback for a while, because it was an intersection at which precious little space was available to any of the cars as they went along, bumper to bumper.
Recovering from the shock of the new charge, I proclaimed my innocence in a low, soothing voice, lest the trooper think I was actually arguing with him, which it was obvious would not strike him as making his day. Still, anxiety-filled as I awaited his reaction, he gruffly said that maybe that was true, but then came up with a third supposed driving offense.
To tell the truth, the third charge was so absurd, I really can't remember what it was. It was then that I finally had an epiphany. I would give in to him and see what happened. I realized that no matter what I did or said, this guy with the gun and the billy club was going to be right. In my best schoolboy-in-the-principal's-office manner, I mumbled that I was surely sorry for what I had done for that third supposed offense, whatever it was.
At this point, the officer brightened up. He had won. He was right. In his best authoritative voice, he said, "Okay. You just watch out what you do out here."
There would be no ticket and I was off the hook. I walked back to my car, got in and slowly, carefully pulled the car away, still shaking both from anger and relief that everything came out okay in the end.
This brief encounter, when I was able to reflect on it, made me think of all of the people who fear the law, and especially some police officers (hopefully a small number) who are determined to be right, who want to use the swagger of their uniform, and who cannot admit an honest mistake.
My moment was brief. My fear was real. My anger sometimes is still with me. But at least in my instance, it was an isolated moment in my life.
And I resolved to try to avoid ever committing a bogus driving offense again.
Douglas Spangler is a freelance writer and former university administrator who lives in Palm Harbor.
