I’m a cautious, defensive driver. I don’t tailgate, and I stop for yellow lights.
Respecting right turns on red, I know the law: Stop at the white line and proceed cautiously. However, I, like most drivers, slow down, watch for oncoming cars, stop if necessary, then go. Realistically, most drivers find the white line a guide, a suggestion, not an imperative. The only people who consistently stop on or before the white line either have a driving instructor in the passenger seat or a police car in the rearview mirror.
So imagine my indignation when one day my wife, Tia, hands me an envelope and says: “Thought it was an ad. Nearly threw it out.”
Inside I find glossy color photographs suitable for framing, courtesy of the village of Winfield, showing my car turning from Roosevelt Road onto Winfield Road, along with a close-up of my license plate.
In intimidating all-caps, black letters scream, “RED LIGHT VIOLATION NOTICE. AMOUNT DUE, $100.00.” If not paid or contested, “a Determination of Liability will be entered against you;” even through obfuscating legalese, I figure that’s a bad, not a good, thing.
I recall driving to a family dinner when, at the intersection in question, I braked, checked for cars, and turned. Admittedly, I probably did not stop dead at the white line. So sue me. Oh, wait, Winfield’s already thought of that.
A couple days later, my son, Jay, calls: “Dad, I just passed the intersection where you got caught. On Roosevelt, there’s no white line.”
I check the photo. A white line crosses the left lane for cars going straight, but in the right lane, turning cars have worn the line seemingly invisible.
“You can’t stop at a white line where there is none, Dad. You’ve got to fight them.”
I do. Well, sort of. See, I’d already mailed in the fine. But hammering out an email to Winfield’s chief of police and village president, I recount how Geneva curtailed its cameras when the hue and cry became deafening.
I also describe the behavior of drivers (observed by psychologists) approaching a stop sign to demonstrate bell curve responses: The vast majority of drivers slow significantly and proceed cautiously; very few drivers at the extreme ends barely brake or brake to a stop.
I wonder how many average drivers at right-on-reds brake, check traffic, then proceed cautiously, oblivious to the C-note fine headed their way.
Because who doesn’t slightly bend the Rules of the Road? Go the speed limit on the Eisenhower, or stop at a stop sign’s white line and get rear-bumper-bumped – or worse. And tell me you’ve never used a handicap space to run in for takeout.
Winfield, by fleecing average drivers, you’re driving us away – literally. While red light cameras lurk like Big Brother, I won’t shop, dine or buy gas in your town.
You’ve got my hundred bucks; I can’t afford a turn for the worse.
Rick Holinger teaches high school in the Fox Valley and facilitates a writing workshop. His prose and poetry have appeared in numerous literary journals. Degrees include a creative writing degree from UIC. Contact him at editorial@kcchronicle.com.