Ignorance of the Law is No Excuse

To my surprise, I heard a siren

Photo by Jonathan Cooper on Unsplash

My car was far from perfect. I never claimed it to be. It was an old Ford Falcon that registered more than a 100k miles on the odometer.

It got me where I needed to go though. My car successfully transported me every day from my apartment in Philadelphia to my teaching job in Camden, New Jersey.

My faithful little Falcon played over its injuries and just kept getting me to where I wasn’t.

It was always a hustle driving to work every weekday morning. We teachers reported into Fanning Square Middle School at 7:00 am. A full half-hour before the kids lined up in the schoolyard in order to enter the building at 7:30.

It was often the night before that dictated the speed with which I needed to get to work the following morning.

Today was one of those days I thought as I pressed down on the accelerator on my trusty little Ford.

It was then, on the Ben Franklin Bridge, the span traversing the Delaware River connecting Philly and Camden, I heard the siren.

After the pursuing officer and I had crossed the bridge onto the New Jersey side was there room to pull over.

Damn, I was going to be super late to my classroom.

The ticket

“Mr ahhh Barnaby!” the cop misreading my name on my license.

“You’re aware that you’re exceeding the speed limit on the Ben?”

Ummmm probably goes back and forth all day every day trying to nab speeders on the bridge. I thought, catching the affectionate way he referred to the bridge as simply the “Ben”. Probably loves the damn thing.

Instead I said, “I’m sorry officer.” I’ve learned to say the minimum in situations like this.

He said in a way smacking of: he hated to do it but if he didn’t issue a ticket he’d be breaking not only human laws but the very laws of nature.

I immediately started thinking of how I could fight the costly ticket.

A plan

I had a friend (Fred) who owned an auto body shop. His main job was fixing things on cars people wrecked.

If I could get him…..

After school that day….

“Hey Fred, how ya been? Long time no accidents!” I greeted him like the old friend he was.

“Hi.” was all he said. Fred’s a man of few words but if it’s a dent you wanted removed from your Rolls Royce, Fred is the man you’d be wise to engage.

“Can you write me a bill with your shop’s letterhead, saying you fixed my speedometer. Words to the effect it was registering 20 miles an hour too slow?” I pleaded.

“Sure, only cost you $20, a dollar a mile,” he added with a smile making a rare joke.

Deed Done!

Ready for a fight

Although the Benjamin Franklin bridge is patrolled by the Philadelphia Police, you protest any ticket issued to the Delaware River Port Authority which is on the Jersey side of the bridge.

Strange, huh?

I filed my protest within the 10 days allotted for submission and got a court date around the end of the month.

My court date came as all legal matters do — slowly.

I called in sick to the middle school and was ready to go to court with my bill from Fred’s Collision.

I was sure I’d prevail.

Judge

The Port Authority courtroom looked more like an office than any courtroom I’d seen on television.

The judge was sitting behind a desk and there were five or six unhappy people on folding chairs in front of him. These folks presumably were there to protest tickets received on the bridge.

The cop who stopped me was seated by the judge facing the other people to whom he issued tickets. I suppose he was there to be a witness.

Decision

When I was called for my case to be adjudicated I changed my chair and sat in the space up by the judge and the cop.

I went into my spiel about having a speedometer that registered 20 miles an hour too slow. Therefore I didn’t realize I was speeding and shouldn’t be fined. I can appreciate the officer who stopped me not knowing this. I’m sure he understands his ticket was issued in err. I mentioned I had the receipt from an auto “mechanic” to prove it.

The judge gave me a “what-the-fuck-is -this-guy-talking-about” gaze.

“Mr. Barrabee, if you needed to ‘know’ you were speeding. everyone who got stopped for speeding would simply say they ‘didn’t know they were speeding’ and not have to pay for the ticket that they so rightfully deserve by endangering everybody who was abiding by the law,” he explained. Sounding much as I would enlighten my sixth graders to the fact that bullying would have consequences whether or not they thought what they were doing was — wrong.

“Same goes with parking in a zone marked NO PARKING, in case you didn’t know.” the judge added. Humiliating me even more.

As I was leaving, thought I saw the Ben bridge cop give me a crooked triumphant smile.

Do you think Fred would give me a refund on the phony bill he wrote for me?