A Promise Is A Promise
I never speed when I’m passing thru Kimberly, Alabama. I won't exceed the speed limit If I’m late for an appointment, a show, or just a drive to the lake. It’s not because it’s a speed trap - it isn’t. The sleepy bedroom community just north of Birmingham only has three police cars and rarely, if ever, do they set up radar to catch unwary travelers. About the closest thing to a police sting is when the officers park their cruisers near the elementary school in the morning and afternoon to ensure the safety of the kids. But, school or no school, radar or no radar, cops or no cops - I do not exceed the 30 mile per hour speed limit. Why? Because I kept my promise - a promise I made over 25 years ago.
As my fledging stand up comedy career began to escalate into a nice part time job, it created the opportunity for more gigs. Consequently, I branched out to other cities that were within driving distance from Birmingham. This enabled me to keep my “day job” while still performing stand up. Huntsville, Alabama, about two hours north of Birmingham, became a good market for me. For whatever reason, I seemed to have good chemistry with those audiences. So, I found myself making frequent round trips up there, returning home well after midnight.
The combination of working a demanding job by day, and a labor of love at night, often created time pressure. Huntsville was just far enough away that I could run home after work for a few minutes, snarf down a sandwich, and kiss the kids before bolting out the door. Usually, I would swap cars and use our mini van instead of my company vehicle. This left me with precious little cushion time.
On one evening I was headed north, desperately trying to arrive before showtime. And I was cutting it even closer than normal. So, it’s no surprise that a State Trooper stopped me on the interstate just outside the Huntsville city limits. I got a well deserved speeding ticket for doing 80 in a 60 mile zone. I barely got to the comedy club on time. What is beyond me is beyond me how I got myself in the same predicament the next night. This time, I was going thru Kimberly when the blue strobe light illuminated my vans' interior. No! Two tickets in two nights! My insurance was going to be astronomical - if they didn’t drop me altogether. And my company was not going to be happy - I could even be put in to a “no drive situation” - which sucks if you need to be in a car to make a living. With very few options, I did what any strong, masculine guy would do in the same situation. I decided to beg.
The policeman, like his cruiser parked behind me, had a few miles on him. A receding hairline infused with streaks of gray. A few age lines defined his otherwise plain facial features. A small belly that gave away his love for southern cuisine. My hand shook as I gave him my license.
“I pulled you over because you were doing 43 in a 30 mile an hour zone,” he said flatly.
OK, here goes. Nothing to lose but my license.
“Sir, I know I was going a little fast, but I’m a comedian doing a show in Huntsville, and I’m running late. I need to get there by 8 because the show can’t start without me.”
Silence. I doubt he had heard that one before. And the evidence backing up my statement was in the back seat: a multicolored silk shirt and a box full of my VHS tapes that I was going to sell after the show. Since I hate gaps of silence in any conversation, I continued.
“I was late to the show last night, and a state trooper gave me a ticket in Huntsville. I pulled it from the visor and waved it in his direction. I deserved it. But tonight I really wasn’t going that fast. Could you please let me off with just a warning? I drive for a living, and two tickets in two nights could get my insurance cancelled.”
The cop didn’t hesitate. “Son, we had a kid on a bike hit by a car a couple of weeks ago, and we are watching this area closely for anyone exceeding the speed limit.” He began to fish for his citation book in his back pocket.
Ouch. I certainly didn’t see that coming. How could I possibly respond to a statement like that?
Call it Divine Inspiration, call it God speaking thru me - my reaction came immediately, like a comic's response to a heckler. Without thinking, I made the cop a heartfelt offer that I hoped would resonate with him.
“Sir, if the purpose of that ticket is to prevent me from speeding, if you let me off with just a warning, I give you my word I will never speed in your town again.”
Once again, silence. He looked down and appeared to study my license. Clearly he was mulling it over. It must have been only a few seconds, but time the seemed to flow slower than ketchup out of a fresh bottle. Please, please, please........
He looked up. He reached out. And to my disbelief, he handed me back my license.
"Slow it down thru here."
Relief washed over me. "I will, and I'll keep my promise," I managed to say.
He nodded, got back in the car and cut the blue light off. The car vanished in the darkness. I put the van in gear, headed north and pondered what just transpired. Did he really believe I would keep my promise? Or did he think it would just be a story I would use to entertain my friends? At that point, I decided that it didn't matter what he thought. I was going to do what I said. That policeman showed me mercy, gave me a break when he didn't have to. I owe it to him to keep my end of the bargain. And over a quarter century later, I continue to keep my promise every time I hit the Kimberly city limits.
For those people who say most cops are bad, I politely disagree. This is a great example of a policeman who had wisdom, compassion, and showed mercy. I think many police officers have these traits.
And I’m thankful God does the same for us. Shows mercy we don't deserve. Is compassionate and wise. We owe it to Him to keep our end of the bargain.
#keepyourpromises
#goodcopsareeverywhere
Great Joe!
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