A week or so ago, I was driving through town on the main north-south highway that passes through. The traffic was moderate, but I couldn’t get ahead of two eighteen wheelers carrying new railroad ties.
It’s a four lane road — with a center turning lane — and they were in the outside lane, where they were supposed to be, but every time I was about to get past them, someone ahead of me would slow down as they moved over into the very narrow turning lane. It was a little frustrating, not being able to get past those trucks. It wasn’t that they were going that slow, because they weren’t. It’s just that they take up so much of a road that is too narrow for a four-lane.
There’s a total of 8 traffic lights on the whole length of the highway through town — and the last two are on the south side of town. I had finally got ahead of the two trucks and had started to slow down for a left turn at the first of the two lights in order to turn left. As I was slowing the light turned yellow and — since I knew that I would not be able to make it through before the red light — came to a stop.
I’m sure the light was still yellow when the cab of the first of the two trucks went under the light, but it was red while the trailer was still in the middle of the intersection.
The next light also turned red — just before the truck got there. This time there was no question in my mind that he ran that red light. No question at all.
His buddy in the second truck stopped at the first light next to me. I just looked at him and shook my head.
This is really getting to be one of my pet peeves. I’ll admit that there’s been times that I’ve sped through the yellow. That doesn’t make it right.
These days I try to make sure that always I stop on the yellow light, unless doing so is simply not possible, such as it turns yellow just as I am entering the intersection.
Post from one of my abandoned blogs – North Farnham Freeholder – recovered from Internet Archive WayBackMachine 2/28/2011
