We got off the highway a few exits early and took on the state roads toward our destination. And there I was, heading downhill, not paying attention to speed, when I passed the local sheriff. Foot immediately came off the gas, but, uh-oh, in my rear-view mirror he was doing a U-turn.
I began to slow down, and sure enough, as he got closer to me his lights came on. I pulled over.
"I'm Corporal L," he announced, "with the Cheatham County Speed Enforcement Department. Are you aware how fast you were going?" The truth is, I wasn't. I told him so. I had my registration out, and my stomach was dropping as I realized that my current insurance card was not in the car. I explained as much to him. In the meantime, he noticed the "clergy" tag on the dash.
"Who's the clergy?" he inquired. I stated that it was me, and he asked where I served. Ken and I both noticed that his shoulders slumped a bit. "I'm between a rock and hard place," he observed. "State law requires that I cite you for driving without proof of insurance." I told him I understood, and then he sealed his decision with the following question. "Where you folks headin'?"
Ken piped up that we were going to the cemetery, just as I said, "his daughter's grave." You could see the officer's thoughts cross his face as he looked down the road and closed his book. "You all go ahead. Be careful. And get your insurance document up to date."
I thanked him as he backed away. Ken and I looked at each other as the rain started to hit the windshield. "Well," I said. "The good news is that now it's in my consciousness to remember to take my insurance card out to the car." He just laughed.
Merry Christmas to all, and to all, journey safe.