Drag City, U.S.A.

Back in the sixties cars were getting faster, more powerful, playing into the hands and feet too of young hotrodders.  Shoe sizes seemed to be getting bigger after a kid got his drivers license.  Mine went from, a respectful size 10 D to a size 13 EEE.  Thinking back I ask; was it because I bought a V-8 Chevelle and later a 400 horsepower Corvette?  I think it was.

But hey, I was a law abiding State Trooper.  I didn’t need to buy any fast cars.  I got to drive them and get paid to do so. How good is that.  Stomping on the accelerator really did make my feet get bigger.  Ford 428 cubic inch V-8s or Plymouth 440 cubic inch cruisers were my daily pals.  I could run down any car that moved back then.

My job, in part, involved driving over 100 miles per hour several times per day on a public highway.  In fact always on a public highway.  And not even break the law in doing so.  What’s not to love?

Anticipation of drivers getting read to speed illegally became an art form.  I learned how to read the minds of drivers by seeing heads turn, furtive glances at nearby big cars. The sounds of exhausts, the width of the rear tires.  It was an easy learning curve for me.  I knew how to do it as a teenager long before I became a trooper.  It was an attraction my red blooded make up embraced.  I actually thought from time to time that I should get into NASCAR racing.

But now, a short little story.

Driving into the city of Hillsdale I was stopped at the first intersection on the south edge of the city that had a stop light.  Across the way, stopped at the light I saw two corvettes, one looked somewhat like the one I owned and another older model.  The cars were side by side and I guessed the drivers were talking about each others power and speed capabilities.

As the stop light turned green, there it was clue number one.  Furtive glances at me in the bright blue patrol car.  I looked straight ahead until I could see the cars fading away in my rear view mirror.  I thought that or sure they were headed out of town on M-99 to race their cars.  I put on my turn signal and drove slowly around the block to give the cars a little head start out onto the wide open spaces of the farmland south of town.

A small hill came between us so I was able to move closer and make unobtrusive observation.  And sure enough both cars pulled up alongside each other and their brake lights indicated they would stop side by side.  They sat there for a few moments and then they suddenly both took off.  Side by side.  Drag racing on a public highway.  A big no-no.

It even says so in the Michigan Vehicle Code. Section 257.626(c).

I had anticipated that the race would start so I was in hot pursuit before the race even started.  As the two cars approached 100 MPH I was actually gaining on them at well over 120 MPH   As they finally slowed down I was like the third car in the race.  Red light activated I saw such looks of amazement on their faces.  As if I descended from outer space.  Both seemed in a state of shock that neither one seemed to contemplate trying to get away.

As the adrenaline began to slow its accelerated flow I put on my hat and approached in a most professional manner, suppressing a grin deep inside.  A self satisfying feeling that I was having such fun upholding the law.  It was almost a feeling of guilt that I had the same thrills they just had without any legal consequences awaiting me.  The kids were polite and well mannered, still in shock I guess that a little mercy had to be shown.

I wrote each a ticket for speeding 10 miles over the limit rather than drag racing which was a violation with far greater consequences.

This incident confirmed once again that being a state trooper was the job for me.  A kid still growing up amongst other kids and still having as much fun as them.

There were good days and bad days and some terrible days but I remember these cute little vignettes that bring a little mischievous smile to this day.  Oh, by the way, my shoe size has not grown since I retired.