Adrian’s Blog

Do Not Hit A Police Car

It was wintertime and snowing. The streets were icy. In Glasgow, the railroad tracks are elevated above one of the North/South streets. They are elevated not because the railroad tracks go up, but because the street is constructed to go down and under the tracks. The decline is short and somewhat steep with both cross streets, on each side of the underpass, very close to the emerging hill.

I was hurrying back to the shop and climbing up the hill from under the railroad bridge. Since the hill was steep and the street lacking full traction, this involved more than a usual use of speed. A farmer on the cross street ahead of me did not stop at his stop sign and instead headed for a collision with my vehicle. Trying to take evasive action, I swerved as far to the right as I could to miss him and his oncoming vehicle. I had only partial success.

I hadn’t quite made it through the intersection when his left side head light and my gas filler spout met, sharply introduced themselves, and continued on their respective ways. The headlight was broken, and the filler spout cap came off. The impact slid the rear of my company vehicle to the right and the front of my vehicle headed at an angle to the left.

At this point, it is important to know that ahead of me, on the left, observing the whole proceedings was a police officer waiting in his car. Due to extraordinary skill on my part, I was able to miss the police vehicle and come to a stop on the right side of the street. I stepped out of the cab of the vehicle to see fire spouting out of the gas filler pipe.

Thinking quickly, I grabbed my work cap off of my head and stuffed it into the filler spout, snuffing out the fire. I walked back to assure that the people in the other vehicle were O.K. The police officer was there already, speaking with the farmer. He decided that the crux of the problem was not one vehicle running a stop sign, but that I had been driving too fast. He said I nearly hit his police car. Then he added, “You never hit a police car.”

I was fined $5.00. O.K. $5.00 doesn’t sound like a lot, but it was in the early 1950s. I grudgingly paid for it. When I got home, my wife asked me why I was late. I told her what had happened. She was used to my tall tales and didn’t believe me at first, at least until I had to pay the fine.