I’ve long since given up trying to find the logic in the way the Decatur Police enforce traffic laws in this town.
I was stopped recently for going a few miles per hour over the speed limit on a desolate section of U.S. 81/287 Business. The officer was extremely rude and unreasonable. I told him I saw no logic in easily picking out speeders when basically nobody drives the speed limit on this particular stretch, and that I am an extremely safe driver. I told him we can watch speeders buzz up and down our small neighborhood street all day, constantly barreling through the three-way stop sign on our corner, and we have children on bicycles a lot of the time in our neighborhood. The policeman just casually shrugged it off, dismissing it as something of little importance. We’ve reported the corner numerous times.
One day not long ago, we were out front throwing the football when a lady barreled through the three-way stop in a big, brand new black Suburban. I’m usually very reserved, but this time I cracked. I screamed at her, “You’re supposed to stop at that stop sign!” She hung her head out the window and shouted, “It’s OK, I work for Judge Cude!” I nearly died. Needless to say, we will be moving out of Decatur the first chance we get.