Traffic Court: It's NOT "A Good Thing!"

Last Tuesday, I had to go to traffic court. Many of you know the accident I had, when I swerved to avoid killing a squirrel, and scratched my neighbor's car. I was raised to do the right thing, so I had to pull over to report this minor accident to the owner of a VW Passat. I WANTED to pull right in front of my neighbor's car, but alas, I could not, as there was a fire hydrant there. So I circled my own block (15+ minutes) and returned, parking BEHIND said Passat.

While I was waiting for the police to arrive (again, doing the right thing) a HUGE 20' dead tree-limb came CRASHING down on top of my 2002 Range Rover!  I found out one week later that State Farm deemed my vehicle: TOTALED.   This story, by the way, was featured in the Atlanta Jounal-Constitution August 22.  Really.

But I digress.  Back to Tuesday; back to traffic court.

As a true Sunderland, I arrived early for my 3 pm court appearance (Courtroom  6A, City of Atlanta Court), and gave up my seat in the hall outside to a woman who arrived after me.  At 2:55 pm, the pleasant, yet stern, security-guard asked for all for 6A to "gather.". As 20+ people remained seated, Mr. Officer grumbled, then eventually all stood around him, like cattle going to slaughter.  He opened the locked double doors, after warning us of the strict rules and regulations we were to expect inside the courtroom.  Well, THAT was a sign of things to come........

We were directed to form a line single-file and wait to check in with the Court clerks.  Several were reprimanded for not following instructions, and an eerie silence pervaded the Courtroom.  Her Honour sat above in the right corner of the Court.  She was tailored, well-kempt, and sported a festive, sparkly hair accessory.  We all soon knew that this judge meant business, as she multi-tasked filing papers, entering things on her computer, calling each attorney who sat at the front-left of the court, among other things.

Her Honour wasted no time requesting Mr. Officer to REMOVE the mothers with the crying babies (who were in an antechamber WAY in the back.....behind a closed door!) to the outside hall where we had convened before 3.  This was simply "unacceptable" in her courtroom.  Then, she barked something stating that we would NOT start the proceedings until more people arrived.  It was 3:14 and she was visibly agitated for these latecomers (who after 3:21, were herded into a 18th century New England-like penalty box where they later suffered the Wrath of The Judge).  This lady HAD to have been a German Catholic nun schoolteacher in a former career; she had everything but a blood-stained ruler.  She had, of course, her gavel, and she used it!

My favourite part of waiting for "my day in court" was the procedure of Judge Hilda calling the names (and, unbelievably to moi) of MANY.........25+ sad sacks who were no-shows. Well!  She would speak into her microphone each name.  "Catherine Conrad?" ......VERY QUIET,....although it was difficult getting much more quiet than had already been established.    There was a three-second pause, then: "NOT PRESENT IN THE COURT; SUMMON A WARRANT FOR ARREST!" and THAT was immediately followed by the Court Clerk shouting, "YES, YOUR HONOUR!". This continued for fifteen minutes, and my armpits soaked my t-shirt under my blue French-cuff shirt (shoulda worn white!!!) as I dreaded spending the night in a jail cell downstairs.

After the non-attending Losers were summoned (with gusto), the Judge proceeded to the cases of those who had brought an attorney.  It was clear to me that these folks had done more than swerve from a scampering squirrel.  I heard amounts like, "$800, $1200, etc.," and the several attorney'd-up violators happily agreed to pay their high fines (to avoid the salt mines, I guess!) and get the heck out of Dodge.

Finally, it was "our turn," i.e. those who were pleading guilty or lobo or loco or whatever that Latin phrase is.  Note: My attorney-friend, Steve Lore, who volunteers with me at Shepherd Center, had advised me to plead, "Guilty With An Explanation.". I even asked the nice Prosecutor when it was my turn to submit my guilty plea signed paper if I could ask him a question (God forbid doing ANYTHING without asking permission in THIS Courtroom), he said, "Of course!". I said, I have been advised to plead guilty with an explanation.  He reached for my signed paper, turned it back over, and entered something in his computer.  I THOUGHT I'd have a chance to explain to the Judge my sad story of The Squirrel and The Dead Limb.

WRONG!!!  As the three people in front of me told the Judge they could not pay today, they were escorted to the New England Penalty Box to await jail, I guess.  They were sad.  They were poor.  I was sad for them. I've been poor.   As I approached the podium with my own microphone, I practiced in my mind what I was going to say, and how I would say it.  Calmly, Collectively.  Waiting, I stared at my yellow ticket from August 1st and panicked that my iPad, which I had turned off, I know, would erupt in a blink-blink into the mike, ruining my chances of finishing the day a free man.

The Judge was brief and succinct.  "Mr. Sunderland, your fine is .......(I'm fading away, knowing that my opportunity to say something has just vanished into the silence of the lambs.........) blah-blah-blah, plus court costs for a total of $215.25; can you pay this amount TODAY, Mr. Sunderland?"

"Yes, Your Honour, I can." Gavel down,.....I grabbed my leather-covered iPad, yellow ticket and RAN (well, not really) out of her sight, heading downstairs to pay the cashier.

Oh, ....and another thing: she mentioned at the End: "If you do not pay your fine downstairs today, Mr. Sunderland, a warrant will be issued for your arrest.". No Shit, Sherlock!  Got it.  Loud and Clear.  Over and Out.  Actually, I cannot remember my spectator-clad feet hitting the ground until I was downstairs on Floor 2.  I must have been so thankful that I left her courtroom unscathed, no bleeding or vomiting (and I expect one of those things happened amongst the 80+ traffic criminals  who followed me that day).

I have NEVER witnessed such a strict disciplinarian; Hitler and Attila The Hun have nuttin' on this broad!  (no letters, please!).   In my opinion, she should run the entire school-system in the United States.  Within 2 years, crime would go down, children would learn more,....the World Would Be A Better Place!  Of this, I am sure.

Traffic court needs good people, I suppose.  I'm telling you, this Lady churned and burned it.  The name, Taskmaster, just wouldn't make it as her moniker.  I welcome names that might be worthy of this Public Servant.

Now, I must relax, enjoy my evening, and hope that I can sleep through the night,...happily on my Ralph Lauren sheets, not a flea-infested cushion hanging from a pair of thick chains.

As always: Keep Calm and RESPECT THE LAW!!!

........Mark.