We live in a pretty secure community. Two-car, non-injury fender bender and the first responder total outside is nearly a dozen. Full-sized fire engine. Fire department first responder wagon. Two regular police vehicles and one of the oversized PT-Cruiser-looking squad cars are all jammed into the intersection.
Not to diminish the shock and inconvenience experienced by drivers involved in any traffic accident, but I don’t even see a bent fender here.
One of the car’s airbags deployed, and seeing that was a first for me. When the driver opened the car window, a cloud of white smoke rolled out. I thought the little car was on fire, until I spotted the puffed-up airbag.
Again – I am sympathetic to the two drivers, but at least the accident involved only cars. These two drivers may have been following the letter of the law, but something went amiss. There are plenty of other drivers that are not even close to following the regulations about driving down Main Street.
Failure to yield to pedestrians is rampant, and it is a credit to those who suffer the crosswalks that no one has been struck down since last summer. The warning signals at the mid-block crossing points don’t stop cars even when the lights do flash. They don’t always light up.
Speeding continues through the Rose District, although the percentage is down. My guess is that those long, long, long-bed pickups that are poking out into the Main Street right-of-way are making some drivers nervous – enough so that they are slowing down, almost to the posted speed limit.
Illegal U-turns (or left-turns-to-park, as they are termed) are regularly attempted, but are more successful on some tries than on others. Those often become three-point turns, when the driver can’t navigate the parking spot without backing up and taking a second shot at it.
My most sympathetic memory is still the young woman walking the baby. The family must live nearby. As I watch her at the crosswalk, it is obvious to me that she has serious doubts about the validity of the “pedestrian friendly” tag that has been bandied about. With a tugging toddler held in check with one hand, and the stroller-handle gripped with the other, she watches the traffic signal like an Olympic sprinter waiting for the starter’s pistol.
Bang!
She is off and running, but only after the prerequisite lurching halt to look in both directions. She then sprints for the safety of the opposite sidewalk while the toddler struggles to keep in stride. It is a practiced drill.
I’d love to be able to say to her, “Relax, Mom. This is a shopping and entertainment district where you don’t need to worry about speeding cars. People cruise through here like Christmas-light rubber-neckers on Kenosha.”
But – it just ain’t so.
When I was bicycling to work back in my younger youth, peddling through intersections like 51st and Lewis in Tulsa put the fear of the automobile in me. Bikes don’t match up well. No airbags, either.
Someday, our Rose District will get the respect of the drivers. They’ll come to understand that Main Street isn’t the quickest way from here to there, and that you are likely to find yourself behind a driver obeying the speed limit. Or maybe behind a car moving even more slowly, as a safety precaution, and respecting the presence of pedestrians.
Someday, drivers will understand that stopping for the red light should occur before the crosswalk, that area set aside for people on foot. And the confused looks directed at the drivers are from folks who pushed the button on the traffic post, wanting to cross to the other side. Except, there’s a big truck smack dab in the middle of the walk. ‘Cause streets are for trucks, ya know. (Cars are guilty as well.)
Someday, drivers will realize that this isn’t the sleepy old Broken Arrow of wagon and hitched-team days. Back when the man on the buckboard sidled the rig to the mercantile to load up some bags of grain and flour. Maybe the horses munching on a feedbag while the kiddies pick out penny candy. These days, we shouldn’t be stopping cars in the middle of the street to make a U-turn into a soon-to-be-vacated parking space.
Someday, a child will be struck down. Or his mother. Or father. Or somebody’s grandmother.
They won’t have an airbag, but will instead have to rely on Broken Arrow’s crack team of first responders.
What? Ooops. Sorry.
Okay.
I’m now stepping down from the soap box.
Come visit!
McHuston
Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main St. Broken Arrow OK!