Speed Tracking Device – Photo: L. Weikel

Bigger Fish to Fry

Just as I was capturing last night’s dazzling sunset that almost appeared to set the woods on fire, the policeman who investigated the aggressive destruction of our mailbox a couple weeks ago pulled up beside us. We’d not spoken to nor heard from the officer since our extended conversation the night of the incident, exactly three weeks earlier. Given the way things seem to go anymore, we figured the township had bigger fish to fry.

In fact, when we realized it was our investigating officer pulling alongside us and rolling down his window, we debated whether to give him a hard time or not.

The night of the incident, we had a long discussion about the flagrant disregard for the speed limit on our little country road. People fly around a blind corner just up our road, often driving easily more than double the 30 mph speed limit. In fact, when people turn onto our road off the main thoroughfare, where the speed limit is slightly higher, we routinely hear them flooring their accelerators.

While our suggestions of installing speed bumps or maybe setting up a ‘speed trap’ to catch the low-flying scofflaws got nowhere, he did agree to place one of those speed monitoring devices on our road. You know: the ones that flash as you approach and tell you what speed you’re doing. They’re effective. It’s easy to lose track and exceed the speed limit – especially on roads that you drive every day – and these tools bring our awareness back to what’s important.

Enter the Sign

Exactly one week following the mailbox mauling, our officer installed the aforementioned speed-sensor, affixing it just below the 30 mph speed limit sign several yards up our road. We immediately noticed a difference. Drivers were obviously more cognizant of their speed, and the vast majority noticeably slowed down.

After about two days, though, I started noticing certain vehicles actually speeding up as they approached the sensor. What? Why?

I hoped it was an anomaly. But I could tell from the sound of the vehicles that they were the same ones that routinely (and deliberately) fly along our stretch of road, revving their engines aggressively. The same type of vehicle that we heard tearing off into the night after smashing our mailbox.

Exit the Sign

Not more than five days after its installation, the speed sensor apparatus was gone. Seriously? We only merited less than a week of speed awareness technology?

Since we hadn’t heard another word from the investigating officer, we figured as I said earlier, that the township had bigger fish to fry. Unless and until there was an accident causing injury or death (to a human, I should add – our beloved animals don’t seem to matter*), no one was going to take the speeding on our road seriously.

We were disappointed. And a bit cynical, to be honest. We assumed the rapid removal of the equipment was probably due to someone with influence complaining.

So when the officer approached us last night, we were of half a mind to razz him a little bit. We wanted to thank him for installing the apparatus but give him grief for removing it so quickly – especially when we’d noticed it having an effect on many drivers.

Audacity

Imagine our surprise then when he immediately launched into a tale highlighting the audacity of people who traverse our road. His machine (he does speak of this contraption with possessive affection, an amusing quirk we noticed from the first time he spoke of this machine the evening of the mailbox mauling) had sent him an alert on day five that it had experienced a fatal incident (or something to that effect) at a specific time before sunrise. Upon investigation? It had been assaulted with a hammer.

That’s audacity.

That’s a product of people thinking they don’t have to obey traffic laws or any other laws they don’t feel like following. That’s an arrogance that’s scary and is reminiscent of the wild west. That’s an attitude that’s anathema to civilized society.

That’s also an attitude that doesn’t endear you to the local police force. That was an expensive machine. And what was probably even more influential was the fact that the officer experienced first hand how people fly around that blind corner going 70-75 miles per hour (no exaggeration). He nearly got clipped himself during this exercise in futility.

A Petition in the Offing

Perhaps we’ll get a little grassroots activism going; maybe see if we can urge the township to install speed bumps or something. In the meantime, though, to quote Mr. T. (for those of you of a certain age), “I pity the fool who messed with the cop’s stuff.” That was a mistake.

(T-240)