I guess we all have one of these stories. I grew up in the NY Metro area,
just north of the Bronx, and we often went to Long Island's Jones Beach with
our friends or girlfriends. Back about 1977 I was driving, OK speeding down
I95 just before the Throgs Neck Bridge when one of NY's finest in an
unmarked car pulled me over. I was in my TR6 (Barbara at my side) and the
highway didn't have a shoulder. Nevertheless, I pulled up over the half curb
they used in those days onto the grass to get off the road. After collecting
my info the officer went back to his car. In short order all hell broke
loose. A jidiot (jerk/idiot) driver saw the cop and stopped next to him in
the right lane of the 55 mph highway to ask directions. A 3 car chain
reaction ensued and the driver that stopped, dazed and confused, ended up
driving down a 500 yard embankment, crashing through the chain link fence
into a parked car. I'm not sure he was conscious. Now I was an experienced
TR driver, ready for the occasional roadside problem. I pulled my flares out
of the boot and sprung into action. The officer had too much else to worry
about so he told me to head on down the road.
Jones Beach quickly took that one back. One other morning I arrived at the
parking lot for West End 1. I think that is now a nude beach, but back then
it was just the college-aged crazies preferred beach. There was no lot
attendant on duty as it was before 7 AM and the lot was virtually empty. So
I didn't stop at the stop sign posted on the ticket shack. Sure enough, from
the far side of the lot, in the gray of the morning a local cop saw me and
gave me a ticket. I didn't see it as fair at the time.
Bob Kramer
rkramer3@austin.rr.com
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