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 (remember, I was from Ruston and lived on a dirt road). 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 were blowing but I’m doing as instructed. The sign said “DON’T WALK,” and I’m not moving.
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 have always jaywalked in relative safety in Ruston and still do, though the traffic is a little heavier than back in 1954.
Ah, progress.
Louisiana Voice 
And I think some of our potholes are probably 1954 originals!
Great story! Reminds me so much of my own upbringing!
The world is a better place for the understanding of the Glendale officer.
Growing up in Ruston during the 1950’s, the police were respected and appreciated. There was even a policeman who walked the downtown beat at night. If we teenagers were driving through downtown at night and happened to see the night patrolman, we would immediately slow down. Now remember, he was on foot. He surely wasn’t going to chase us down on foot for speeding. We slowed down out of respect and also the fact that the night patrolman knew every car and driver in town and if we didn’t drive carefully, our parents would be called. And that would result in our losing our driving privilege. All parents were de facto police. That’s really what “Community Policing” is really all about.
Because I am really, really old and don’t remember, could you remind me where the one traffic light was, please.
The best I can do, Liz, is to tell you it was at one of the downtown intersections – most probably at the corner near the old post office and the Dixie Theater on Vienna Street. Either there or one block south by the old Manhattan Cafe and the pool hall. One of those two intersections (though it could well have been by Beard’s Drug Store and Milam’s Drug Store on Trenton Street. I’m old, too and it was nearly 70 years ago). All I can be certain of is it was downtown.
Thanks, Tom.
Tom, your story reminds me of something I experienced one day in the mid-sixties. My grandfather lived south of Gonzales, right off the river road, behind the Bocage House. There is a small hamlet between the Houmas House and the Bocage House called Hillaryville. One day my grandfather was driving down one of the lanes (they were not big enough to be called streets)in Hillaryville. The parish had painted a broken yellow line in the middle. My grandfather looked at me and said: “I don’t know why they painted this yellow line, two cars can’t pass each other anyway. One has to move over and hope they don’t end up in the ditch.”
Enjoyed your recollection immensely. It is a shame such rationale and courtesy on the part of “your” officer doesn’t exist among the majority of law enforcement today. Unfortunately, a goodly number of today’s law enforcement “professionals” exhibit a “we versus they” attitude and action interspersed with an adequate helping of systemic racism along with “cover our abuses” for the safety of the “blue brotherhood”.
And “we” wonder why people have such low opinions of governmental institutions and services.
Love our shared youth stories! I love my government and especially police officers, not sure where gv52 gets his “goodly number” but it is a really good example of ignorance and is hateful. thanks ron thompson keep loving and keep learning and go Top Gun.