Writers Who Kill

Traffic Stops – Writing Them and Experiencing Them by Debra H. Goldstein

Recently, I attended the Writers Police Academy. One of the classes I took was “Making a Traffic Stop.” The course covered two types of stops – where it is believed the car being stopped has occupants involved in a felony/crime (ex. Walmart is robbed and everyone sees the robbers run to a pink car and tear out of the parking lot on two tires --- and lo and behold, a similar car is spotted a few minutes later) and the typical traffic stops we all think we know. I was amazed at all the small details I learned that I would never have considered if I were writing a stop scene.

 

For the felony stop, I was in the command seat of the second car. Our job was to cover the passenger side from a safe distance. As you can see from the picture below, being left-handed, I probably would have shot off the mirror of my police car before I shot the bad guy.

 

The typical traffic stop proved to be almost as complicated as the felony stop. First, an officer spots something which could range from a light being out, speeding, weaving on the road, a license tag that doesn’t match a car, or something that simply feels fishy. Today, with computers, the tag is run before the officer gets out of the car. The next step is to carefully come up to the stopped car from behind, pausing to leave a handprint on the back of the car. Then, the officer, watching for guns or quick movements, makes direct contact by talking from a safe position still to the rear of the driver’s door. The driver may be asked to put hands out the window or on the steering wheel. The stop proceeds with license, registration, and whatever being obtained by the officer, who remains in a safe position, leaving one hand free if a gun must be drawn and the other taking what is produced. Depending upon the violation, things proceed to a warning, ticket, sobriety test, or whatever.

 

Why do I tell you all of this? Because if you write about a stop you need to get it right. The same is true if you are stopped. Now, I understand why a few years ago, I freaked out a young cop.

 

I was driving through a posh neighborhood having just come from a workout. A block after I passed the police station, blue lights came on behind me. I pulled out of the way to let the officer chase the bad guy. To my surprise, he stopped behind me. 

 

He got out of his car and slowly approached the driver’s side front door. As I asked what I had done, he, I believe, told me to put one hand on the steering wheel and hand him my license with the other. That’s when I remembered I had locked my purse in the trunk while I was working out. 

 

Nervously, I told the officer, “Oh, just wait a minute,” and I pushed open my door. He backed up, with an odd look on his face, but I brushed past him talking non-stop about my purse being in the trunk. In retrospect, after taking the class, I realize that what I thought was him being flustered as he backed away from the trunk was probably him trying to protect himself if I retrieved a gun instead of my license. I now interpret his puzzled serious mouth-dropping look as being abject fear mixed with confusion followed by relief when all I pulled out of my purse was my license. 

At that point, with both of us standing outside the car, he started to tell me the sticker on my license tag was expired, but I reached into the car again (and he moved further back) to pull out the mail which had the sticker in it and my checkbook to show I’d written the check for the fee well before it had shown up in the mail.

 

He gave up. After helping me put the sticker on the tag, he let me go. I wonder which of us was more relieved. That’s an element they didn’t go over in class.