By Rabbi Yosef Weiss
Lakewood Police Detective Bill Addison (now retired)
The customs and obligations of Purim create a festive and exciting atmosphere. But there’s one side effect to all this activity – the unceasing traffic that fills the streets. As a precaution to this potentially dangerous situation, community activists convene with the local police to detail security and traffic restrictions. Strict measures must be taken to ensure that safe driving and safe streets will safeguard the happiness of the day.
The day before Purim in Lakewood, R’ Menashe Miller was scheduled to meet with Sergeant Bill Addison, Badge #31, to review the day’s itinerary. Five minutes before the police officer was due to arrive, he called R’ Menashe from his cell phone. “I’m sorry, Rabbi, but I’m going to be a little late. A lady just blew a red light right in front of me. It’ll probably take about twenty minutes – I’m going to pull her over and issue a summons.”
Sergeant Addison disconnected the call and strode importantly over to the driver’s window. She had pulled over to the side and stopped. “License and registrations, please.” The woman inside handed over the requested items without a word. Sergeant Addison examined the documents, then raised his eyes to the driver. “Ma’am, do you know what you did wrong?”
She Confessed that She Hadn’t Noticed the Light Turn Red
“Yes, sir,” she said meekly. “I didn’t concentrate on my driving.” “Do you have anything to say in your defense?” The woman turned away from the officer to look at her five-year-old, who was seated snugly in the back seat, quietly absorbing the scene. Sergeant Addison also noticed a baby strapped into the back, and a bottle clutched in the woman’s hand. She must have been trying to give the baby the bottle, he surmised, and she didn’t notice that the light had turned red. The woman turned back to him. “No, sir, I don’t.” Sergeant Addison was surprised. She hadn’t even explained about the bottle. “You know, ma’am, most drivers try to justify their traffic violation. Was there a reason why you ran that red light? Were you in a hurry to get somewhere? Were you in the middle of doing something?” His eyes strayed to the baby bottle in her hand. To the puzzlement of Sergeant Addison, the woman turned to meet her son’s inquisitive eyes before answering the question. “No, sir. I was wrong. It was the wrong thing to do.”
“Why Aren’t You Trying to Excuse Yourself?”
“Ma’am, everyone says something,” he said in exasperation. “You can’t just take the ticket without trying to excuse yourself.” The woman gave the child one last meaningful glance, and answered with quiet conviction. “My five-year-old is listening to every word I say. If I start making up excuses, what kind of lesson would I be teaching my son?” Five minutes later there was a knock at Menashe Miller’s door. “Sergeant Addison!?” R’ Menashe asked. “How did you get here so quickly?” “Wait till you hear this one, Rabbi,” the sergeant responded, still shaking his head in bemusement. R’ Menashe listened as Sergeant Addison recounted the incident. “I was so impressed, I didn’t give her the ticket,” the officer concluded, “And here I am.”
Sergeant Addison took the seat offered to him, and got down to business. People like that certainly deserved the best safety precautions on their joyous holiday. (Excerpted from “Visions of Greatness VIII”)
Reprinted from the Parashat Debarim 5784 email of Rabbi David Bibi’s Shabbat Shalom from Cyberspace.
