Public Servants

      I would like to see a dramatic change in the way we utilize our "public servants". Many of the governmental services have a built in public reaction, often negative. The police, the tax people, the planners often have bad news for the people! These people should not be in these jobs fifty weeks a year. I've known some of our local police officers as neighbors. They barely speak or associate with the public. They seem to become paranoid, won't list their phones or addresses. They seem to become dissociated from the people they serve. Their dealings are almost always negative. No one likes to be accosted or arrested.
      I think this kind of mind warp is inevitable. The police are always dealing with people who are wrong and don't like being told. This extends to people who can be violent. So it is quite natural that they would become paranoid. But it is not desirable that they become so.
      There are many positive jobs such as parks and the fire department and the water department.
      I don't believe any city worker should be allowed to serve in a "negative" job more than six months in any year. Wow! I can hear the uproar.
      This could only work if it is accepted completely. If you try to do a "test" it will fail because the workers would not cooperate willingly. They would have to be told that if they do not accept and cooperate, they will be fired. There would have to be zero tolerance for any resistance. This is such a strong change in the society that it can only succeed in changing attitudes if it is rigidly enforced and cooperated with till the good effects could be observed. I'm sure it would take a couple years at least.

      I hate to say that I have little respect for any police unit I have encountered. I engaged in a conversation about it with my daughter and found myself on the defense. I went up to my computer and described the dozen or so encounters I've had so she could see where I was coming from. Of all these encounters, only two could be considered even remotely positive.
      I will itemize these encounters at the end of this discussion.
      Most of my encounters come under the heading of harrassment rather than avoidance of danger.

      While I'm on the subject of police procedures there is another behavior I would eliminate. I would develop a procedure for eliminating the "high speed chase". I think the police are equally responsible when an accident occurs. Surely in this modern age we can develop an alternative. What immediately occurs to me is the use of a rifle to impant a device in a fleeing vehicle that would emit a signal that could be followed. Then we should use a helicopter or other mobile air vehicle to follow the car. A roadblock could be arranged at a place where they would not be expected. The idea is to terminate the altercation with no blood-letting. This requires that the fleeing vehicle be lulled into thinking they got away and then capturing them with total surprise. I think it can be done without endangering non-participants. Of course, it probably wouldn't make good TV!

My History with the Police
      1954-       One time Dr. Bartlett's graduate students were invited to a party at his home in Newton. I had three or four in my 1950 Ford two-door sedan with Minnesota plates. I was looking for the Newton exit from the circuitous highway, number 128. Oops, I missed it and it was several miles to the next place to turn around. We were going to be a little late so I was pressing it.
      I got turned around at the next exit and was speeding a little bit on the way back. A Highway Patrol flashed his lights at me so I pulled over on the shoulder. The patrolman pulled over some distance away. He got out of his car and said on his way over, "Just 'cause you're from Minnesota, don't think we can't pull you in!" Another Neanderthal!

      probably 1955       I was driving toward Washington DC from Boston. It was winter and there had been a light snow. The Wilbur Cross Parkway had been posted at 25 mph because of the light snow. It was in the early AM and I was driving about 40 mph because the snow had completely disappeard from the concrete roadway and it was completely dry. I was being cautious but it was quite obvious that the condition for which the road had been posted had disappeared. And here came one of those vehicles with the lights. I stopped and he came over and gave me a lecture. I said nothing but just let him talk till he ran down. Then he let me off with a warning. Thirty minutes later when I was in New York north of the George Washington Bridge I heard an announcement on the radio that all speed restrictions had been lifted on the Wilbur Cross. Could it really have gone from 25 to 65 in thirty minutes? Nonsense. We are expected to use our head and slow down when a hazard appears. But don't use your common sense when the hazard disappears. They want your judgement to operate in one direction only!

      1955-       I was coming to the end of my time at Harvard and it was time to interview for a job. I got an invitation to visit Dartmouth. So I got into my 1950 Ford two door sedan and drove out, had the interview and then drove back. I think it was highway 2 and it went through Ayer Mass. There was a military camp there and I have always believed that the police realized what a money maker this piece of road would be.
      As a student I had Minnesota plates on the car. I never knew what the fees were going to be so I always sent in larger amount than they were likely to be, then I would get the plates and refund check for the excess. This time I got the refund check but the plates were tied up in the mail. So, yes, I got pulled over on 18 January by a Massachusetts Highway Patrol because I had the previous year's plates. I tried to explain that I was not driving an unregistered car, that the plates were temporarily misplaced in the mail, that I was using plates by which I could be identified. As proof of the registration I showed him the refund check from Minnesota which had "Refund of excess vehicle fees" printed on it. Nevertheless, he took me to a "Justice of the Peace" kept in the neighborhood for this purpose and they charged me $12 and sent me on my way.
      Later I got a letter from Rudy King at 100 Nashua Street suspending my right to drive in Massachusetts for driving an unregistered vehicle. I could not have this so I went down and talked to several people and finally got to a man of authority. I explained what happened. He asked to see the registration certificate and then said, "Well it was registered. I can restore your right to drive but I can't get your money back." I agreed and went on my way!

      1957 (?)       I was told this by a friend. He was in a camera store that we spent a lot of time in, looking at new equipment and discussing photography. Most afternoons after work I would stop in for a half hour on the way home. This particular day this friend was the only customer. I should mention that he was one of the "invisible" people. He was fairly short, a little overweight, wore gray suits and a gray Stetson. If he didn't move you might not even realize he was there.
      The store was Ferrante and Dege in Harvard Square. As well as selling photographic materials, they processed Ansco film in the basement. The building was old as were the rest of the buildings around the square and had features that would not be allowed in a new building. For instance, there was a rather steep stairway to the basement and a low overhang at the bottom step. Al Dege was reasonably tall and this evening, at about closing time he came out of the processing room in a hurry and didn't duck fast enough. He hit the overhang with his head and knocked himself cold. He collapsed at the foot of the stairs with a considerable clatter. His partner, Tony, ran to the head of the stairs, saw him, ran back and called 911 and then went down to see what he could do. My friend was standing there in a back corner of the store when two patrolmen and a police sergeant came in. They saw no one and began putting things in their pockets. Then the sergeant finally saw my friend standing there with his eyes wide and his mouth open and he gave a sign to the others and they quit taking things. But they didn't put anything back! He never told anyone but me. To whom do you report crooked cops?

      1957-       One day I was heading west on Memorial Drive, the thoroughfare that parallels the Charles River on the Cambridge side. I was travelling about 40 mph which was about the speed limit. I had no immediate nearby cars although there were cars ahead and behind, all travelling about the same speed. I was in my 1957 Ford Country Sedan which looked like it was going 15 mph when it was parked! As I was going along I saw a policeman standing on the curb. He wiggled me over with his finger. I thought maybe he wanted a ride somewhere so I pulled into a driveway and parked. He came over and gave me a ticket for speeding!
      I was living at 51 Brimmer Street in Boston at the time. I couldn't believe a cop oln the curb could give a ticket for speeding, particularly since I knew I was probably within 5 mph of the speed limit. This might have ended here but I never got a summons indicating the fine and, frankly, I finally forgot about the whole thing. About this time I moved to the Harvard Street Cooperative House off Central Square. I filed the change of address with the Sheriff and the Motor Vehicle Department as required.
      Late one Friday afternoon I got a phone call at work. It was the police notifying me that I was due in Middlesex County Court the next morning to answer the summons. I was told that if I did not promise to be there he would send an officer to arrest me. I asked him, "What summons?" He replied that it was one that had been delivered to me at 51 Brimmer Street. I told him that I never got it and that I had moved and changed my address as required. I told him I thought summonses had to be delivered in person and that I had not been served. He told me it made no difference. I told him it was very inconvenient because a group of us were planning to be out of town early the next morning and we were to use my car. He told me that if I got there before 9 that they would take care of me quickly and I could be on my way. I reluctantly agreed.
      The next morning I arrived before 9. The judge didn't come till after 10. Then they emptied the drunk tank. By this time I was very upset. Finally, almost noon, they got around to me. I stood by a railing clear across the room from the judge with a bailiff standing beside me. Th clerk read the charge and said, "Guilty or not guilty!" I said, "Of what? What was the speed limit? How fast was I going?". And he replied that in the opinion of the officer, I was going too fast. I said if it was his opinion, what I could I say. At this point the patrolman who was standing up front by the judge leaned over and whispered to the judge something. Fortunately I caught the word "Summons". So I broke in and told the judge about not being properly served, that the summons had apparently been dropped through a mail slot at a previous address. There was more mumbling and then the clerk said, "The case will be filed." I turned to the bailiff and asked what that meant. He said that they weren't going to do anything now but it wold be filed in case I got into more trouble. So I said," So they admit they're wrong!, and I turned around and stomped out.

      1957-       Another time I was coming home from a downtown movie late, around midnight. Massachusetts Avenue was wide and dark near Central Square I was moving along, probably around 30 mph. One block before Central Square, a street came in from the right and deadended on Massachusetts Avenue. A car was approaching me from Central Square. There was a dark figure moving slowly in the crosswalk. He was very difficult to see. All of a sudden, the approaching car hit this person with his left front fender and threw him about thirty feet down the street toward me. I actually saw city lights between the flying person and the top of the car that hit him.
      He landed ahead of me and I braked and pulled over at an angle just beyond him to protect him from being hit again. He was struggling to get up but I hollered at him to stay where he was, that he had been hit by a car and that we would get an ambulance. He had been on crutches and they were lying in the street. He had been knocked out of his shoes!
      About this time the beat cop came walking up to me, ignoring the man in the street and said, '"How come you're parked in the middle of the street". I kind of hollered at him, pointing at the man in the street, that I was trying to protect him from being hit again. "See that dust spot up the street? That's where he was hit! Go get an ambulance!" He said, "OK, but get your car out of the middle of the street!"
      So I parked the car at the curb, got my camera which had very fast black and white film in it and went back to the man on the ground. I took a number pictures over the next quarter hour. The police ambulance came. They rolled out a wheeled gurney about 18 inches high. They proceeded to lift the man by the knees and the shoulders (Ugh!). They got him almost up to the gurney and then dropped him back to the street!
      I never heard what ultimately happened but I gave a complete set of 8x10's to his attorney! I could not believe the abyssmal treatment the man got and thought that if I were ever hit, I hoped their people would leave me lay in the street and take my chances on the traffic.
      At that time it was supposedly illegal to park on the street overnight. I got two parking tickets, one in January and one in July. I figured I was paying my parking fees.
      There was a street near Massachusetts Avenue, off Beacon Street, probably Hereford Street. The entire block was posted as no parking at any time, with a yellow curb, all the way. But it was painted with black and white dashes on each side of the fireplug. This street was always parked solid. I suppose when the police needed a bit of income, they could go out and give everybody a ticket!
      Massachusetts had a vehicle inspection law where cars had to go to an autorized station, pay the fee and get their car checked. I of course did this. I might add I have never seen so many cars with one headlight anywhere else! I suspect that the fees were paid but little was fixed.

      Winter late 1960-       While working at Chemical Engineering News in Washington DC I lived in an apartment on 25th Street NW. My apartment was on the sixth floor as I remember and I had a parking space next to the building in the rear of the apartment.
      One day there was about six inches of snow on the ground when I got to my car and found a ticket for illegal parking. I went back to my apartment and called the local precinct and asked if they would check my space and see that it was a legal parking space that I rented. They would have been able to see that it had not been moved because of the snow. Of course the snow also obscured the paint on the asphalt that marked my parking space. They declined.
      So I got my camera and took pictures. I even went to a sixth floor apartment that was immediately above the parking space and got permission to take a picture out of the window. I also got a statement from the building manager that he could attest that I rented the space my car was parked in and that it had not been moved.
      I went to court with my 9 x 12 manila envelope clutched in my hot little hands. While sitting there a cop came over and asked me what I had. I made a mistake and showed him the ticket, the letter from the manager and the pictures. He then said that there was no need for me to wait and he took me down to another part of the building and had the ticket rescinded.
      The mistake I made was allowing him to do that. After all that work I should have kept my mouth shut and gone before the judge. How else is a judge going to know that shenanigans like this were going on?
      I might add that Washington DC had police garage and required a yearly inspection. They did a thorough job. Perhaps too thorough. They told me I had to change one headlight because it was a different brand from the other. They didn't care which I changed as long as the two matched! ??

      Summer 1961-       My wife and I were traveling on our honeymoon from Washington DC to my next job at Deep Springs College. We went by way of Moorhead Minnestoa to visit my sister Helen and her family and friends. After leaving we headed down through the Black Hills. After leaving the Black Hills we went down the US highway on the east side of Wyoming to Lusk. Somewhere in this area we turned on the US highway west. There was nobody on the road, it was quite deserted. Or so it seemed. I was probably going about 70 mph. I had no reason to go any faster. This was the speed I had observed most of the Wyoming residents driving. Then, all of a sudden, those flashing lights appeared behind us and we got a ticket for speeding. I did not think then nor do I think now that it was anything but getting income from non-Wyomingites. I wrote to the governor and told him not to anticipate any more income from me as I would never go through Wyoming again. And I haven't! There are many other ways to go!

      circa 1980       I was coming up from Pismo Beach on Highway 101. I was traveling 65 mph in my 1956 Chevrolet longbed 1/2 ton pickup. A lady in an big car and I were pulled over by a highway patrolman and given tickets for 75 mph. I didn't believe it and thought that a fix-it ticket wold be appropriate because my speedometer was obviously at fault.
      Later I realized what was wrong. The truck was in terrible shape when I bought it. One of the things wrong was that two teeth were gone from the spider gear in the third member. So I looked around and found a used one. The original one had a 4.11 ratio, this one was 3.69. Since the speedometer is hooked to the transmission, this new ratio meant that I was going about 15% faster than it indicated. So I probably was going 75 mph. But I still think a fix-it ticket would have been more appropriate.

      In the eighties, again. As any worker at Cal Poly can tell you the northbound freeway exit at Grand Avenue can be dangerous around 8AM. it is very poorly designed and can become dangerously backed up to where the traffic actually extends out onto the freeway at a turn where there is restricted visibility due to the gentle right turn. I always had visions of a freeway car at 65 coming around that turn and finding a car, dead stopped, in their lane. I don't think there would be enough time to stop and we would have one of those multiple rear-enders.
      One morning I was stopped about three or four cars from the freeway and I saw the cars piling up behind me. I became very nervous because if something happened, I would be involved. So I did what I thought was a prudent thing. I pulled out to the right and went down pst the traffic and turned right on Grand Avenue. I then made a 180 down aways when it was legal and came back toward Poly.
      Yes, there he was. A patrol car was parked on the side street immediately across form the freeway exit, waiting for someone to do this. As I passed, he zoomed out, flicked the lights and gave me a ticket. I explained why I did it. I pointed to the traffic where it was spilling out onto the freeway. But he could care less. I went out several times in the next few days and cam up from behind him and parked. I took a photograph of him sitting there waiting with the traffic visible aead of him at the exit, backed up to the freeway. Did he make any attempt to get out of his car and direct traffic to relieve the congestion? No. he obvously wanted to give another ticket.
      I wrote a two page letter to the presiding judge of the municipal court about this and other bad traffic areas in the city with photogrtaphs and suggestions for correcting them. He wrote a nice and long letter back and said that he had forwarded copies of my letter to both the City of San Luis Obispo and to the highway department, CalTrans. I got a call from an engineer at CalTrans which I considered stupid and offensive. I heard nothing from the City but I have not seen a police car parked there since!

      In the eighties, again.       I was coming home from Poly one afternoon and there was denser traffic than usual. As I was passing the southbound Marsh Street entrance a car was trying to enter the freeway. I moved over to the left line to let him in. I was looking for an opening in the right lane so I could exit at Madonna Road. I found one that was a little smaller than usual but was adequate and I moved over. A light flickered from a car several cars back in the right lane. I pulled off at Madonna Road and then realized he was flashing at me. I continued to Madonna Road, turned left and then turned left into a Texaco station in Madonna Plaza. This whole area has been redesigned since this event. The patrolman was upset because I hadn't stopped earlier. And I said, "Where? There wasn't any safe spot any sooner. I stopped at the first safe place I saw." He began to cool down and we talked for about fifteen minutes about driving. At this time he said that he was sorry he stopped me but that he had to write the ticket for an unsafe lane change anyway since it had been started. For obvious reasons they have to account for all their numbered tickets. They have to eliminate the appearance of possible bribes. He really kind of admitted that he was not in a good position to judge the lane change I made.

      Summer 1990-       At this time I was interested in finding out what had happened to my family. These adventures will be described in another place but here I will describe my bouts with the North Dakota Highway Patrol.
      I had visited some family members in Canada and was on my way to see my mother's homestead near Mohall ND. I crossed the border and then headed east on highway 2. The land is gently rolling and the highway was like a roller coaster for a three year old. I came on a very slow car and I became a little impatient. There was very little room to pass between the high grounds. So I finally planned it, dropped back and then accelerated in a way that would give me some speed and be ready to pass as we crested and I could see to the next rise. It was clear so I passed the other car, probably doing 75 while passing. After pulling in, I would slow down to the speed limit. But it was my luck that a Patrol Car crested, coming the other way, and he radared me at 75. He turned around and flagged me down. I pulled over and stopped. He parked a bit away and slowly came toward me. He stopped at least ten feet away and rocked back forth on his left and right foot. I felt I better not make any sudden moves because he seemed very nervous and I suspected he might pull his gun. I actually did feel mildly threatened. I tried to explain but he was hearing nothing. He finally wrote the ticket and gave it to me and I drove off.
      I continued to Bismarck and got a motel for the night. The next day I visited the State Museum and then drove to La Moure ND to visit the graves of my father, mother and brother. I was heading back to Moorhead somewhere in the back country near Enderlin ND and was buzzing along, probably about 5 mph above the speed limit. Another Highway Patrol passed me the other way, turned around and gave me a ticket. As far as I could see, I was driving like anyone else but I didn't have ND plates and was therefore a "furriner" and a valid target. Two tickets in two days?
      Later I wrote the governor and explained this. I thought he should know what his people were doing. I did get an answer saying he had contacted the patrolmen, got their story and decided they were justified. I wrote back and asked him what else could they say. I also promised that I would stay out of his state forever. And I plan to! But I'm sure he could care less!

      1990's       I was coming down Madonna Road, crossing the freeway going west. There was a moderate amount of traffic and because of the lights it was fairly closely packed. There was a car rather close behind me so I moved over into a space on my right. Then the lights came on. Ipulled over near the motels and a policewoman got out of her car and came over. She said something like, "That was a pretty close change of lanes you made back there." And I said, "Yes, that's true. But I didn't know who you were and you were too close. I was just rubbing you off." She laughed and agreed and told me she was stopping me to tell me that one of my taillights was out. And then she noticed that my from right headlight was out. I punched the fender and it came on. And so, she gave me a fix-it ticket for the taillight and let me go. That was one of the only pleasant encounters I've had with the poilce.

      1990's       I was coming back from Santa Barbara. I used hiway 154 because it had less traffic and was out in open pretty country. After passing the summit, the road takes a rather good downgrade. If traffic is light and one does not want to use the brakes too much it is easy to let the speed creep over the limit. A bit down from the summit, about where the grade is the steepest, there is a shallow turn to the left. Just beyond this turn there is a well used parking space for a hiway patrol car to park and wait for the next sucker to come down, a little too fast. And sure enough, there I was. The traffic court was 90 miles away so in spite of a letter I sent, I was told to pay up.
      Unfortunately the state is in league with these thieves and won't register your car if you have an outstanding ticket. No one can convince me that this is a legitimate use of state authority.

      1990's       I came from home, down Oceanaire, left on Madonna Road toward town. The speed limit is 45 mph. A long block further up the road as one enters the Madonna Plaza area, the speed limit changes to 35 mph. Most people take a long time slowing down at this point, and many never do. I was probably between 40 and 45 a block later, driving more or less as everyone else. As I passed the right entry into the plaza parking near the Taco Bell, a motorcycle cop was parked there waiting. For some reason he decided to pick me, zapped his radar and gave me a ticket. I thoroughly believe this is differential enforcement. A kind of highway lottery, and I lost!

      1990's       I supppose there has to be a good experience sometime and I did have one. I parked in the lot at Rudolph's Coffee Shop in downtown San Luis Obispo. I wanted to see if my daughter was at work, so I put a nickel in the meter. expecting to go right in and come right back out.
      When I came back out I saw they were working at the creek project. I wondered what they were doing so I went over and looked over the fence for a few minutes and then headed toward my car. A tall blonde San Luis Obispo policeman was standing by my car. I said, "Did my nickel run out?" and he said, "Yes, Put a nickel in the meter. I saw your license plant, P40 P51, and I just didn't want to give you a ticket." I put a nickel in the meter, thanked him and smiled. It was almost the only positive contact I've had with the constabulary!

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