New California law signed by Gov. Newsom triggers memories from Rustonite’s visit nearly 70 years ago
New California law signed by Gov. Newsom triggers memories from Rustonite’s visit nearly 70 years ago
November 28, 2022 by tomaswell
Normally, I don’t get too excited by events in California other than the fact that a year ago, I was fortunate enough to be in the Sacramento area during Thanksgiving week and happened to notice that California highways are far, far, far, FAR superior to the pothole-punctuated, broken-up obstacle courses we enjoy in Louisiana.
But today, a headline in my online Washington Post dispatch caught my eye and it took me back nearly 70 years.
The headline read, “California greenlights jaywalking.” Gov. Gavin Newsom, it seems, has signed into law the Freedom to Walk Act, which now legalizes jaywalking, an offense that once carried fines of up to $200.
I don’t know how well that’s going to go or how wise it may be in a state that also legalizes marijuana but that’s not what caused a quick reminder of what looking back today was an embarrassing but funny event of my childhood.
When I was 11 or 12 (I don’t recall exactly how old I was), I had occasion to visit Glendale, California, a suburb of LA, to meet my biological mother, my sister, stepfather and half-brother for the first time.
I grew up in Ruston which, at the time was strictly small-town, about as small-town as you can get. I remember we had one traffic light that worked occasionally (whenever you could make out the faint glow of a tired green or red glow in bright sunlight).
Not that it mattered with the dearth of traffic in downtown Ruston at the time. My grandmother was fond of saying one could shoot a cannon down Trenton Street and not hit anything.
Take a kid out of that environment and set him down in a place like Glendale and you’re inviting trouble. Of course, seeing a big city for the very first time in my life, I wanted to see it all so, one day I decided to take a walk downtown. Being adventurous, I set out alone and without telling anyone.
I came to the widest boulevard I’d ever seen in my life. It was much like Canal Street in downtown New Orleans, but with about twice the traffic flow. That boulevard looked to be a mile wide to my pre-teen eyes. It had to be at least eight lanes wide (probably less, but that’s the way it seemed at the time).
But not to worry. It had these amazing traffic lights that were mounted on metal poles on each corner instead of hanging from wires over the street like the one in Ruston. And, believe it or not, it actually had blinking instructions telling me when I could walk across. So when I saw a blinking “WALK,” I headed across into parts unknown.
Halfway across, the message changed abruptly to “DON’T WALK.”
Well, hell, being a kid from Ruston who had been taught to always do as I was told, I did the only sensible and responsible thing. I stopped. Right in the middle of the boulevard. Horns blew but I’m doing as instructed. The sign said “DON’T WALK,” and I’m not walking.
Until this cop walked up to me, that is. Cops still walked beats back then. Anyway, he came up to me and the first words out of his mouth were, “You aren’t from around here, are you?”
“No, sir. I’m from Louisiana.” That, apparently, told him everything he needed to know.
Laughing, he explained patiently to me, “Son, when the sign says “DON’T WALK,” that means people back on the sidewalk should stay there until the light changes. Those already in the process of crossing, like you, should get their butts on across. Come with me, I’ll walk you across.”
I still appreciate that officer’s understanding that day – and his decision not to give me a ticket. And to think, jaywalking is now legal there.
And Ruston no longer has just a single traffic light; they’re everywhere. Residents still jaywalk in Ruston, though the traffic is a little heavier than back in 1954.
Ah, progress.