Always Automobiles

Teenage Hotrodders #6
February 1964

You Are a Pedestrian

Recently I read a letter written by an angry motorist. He said we had so many hazards on the road in today's modern driving that he felt being behind the wheel took a lot out of you both mentally and physically. He was extremely annoyed by Pedestrians whom he claimed created situations which were dangerous-and yet with some common sense and courtesy could be avoided. I am well aware of the fact that Psychologists can give us some deep hidden reasons why people do the peculiar things-they do.

But why not ask the Pedestrians themselves? So this is really a partial report of a study I have been making for some time. And when I do these car reports, my wife goes with me as my companion and helper. The technique used was simple: I stopped the car and then identified myself. Told the person concerned I was making a study of the habits of pedestrians. To find out why they do what they do.

There I was driving car at the legal speed of twenty five miles an hour through the city. And suddenly I saw this Pedestrian. He was walking towards my car reading a newspaper! Not on the sidewalk but on the road. I blew that horn and stopped my car. He just continued walking. Then I identified myself and spoke to him. He was a man of about sixty.

"Tell you something," he smiled. "I guess I must be absent minded. Maybe you won't believe it but it is the truth. I didn't even know I was walking in the road. There was such an interesting article in the newspaper that I became completely absorbed in it. Thank you for your kindness."

I watched him get back onto the sidewalk. And when I last saw him he still was reading that newspaper; and I was wondering why he couldn't wait until he got home to read his paper. Now for our next Predestrian and you surely have met her while driving. She is the mother with the baby carriage. This one I met while driving through an underpass in the city. She was headed in my direction. Taking it calmly and looking rather happy. So I stopped the car and my wife spoke to her.

"There is a narrow sidewalk on each side of the underpass," explained the mother. "More room here. And not too much traffic."

"Suppose there was a truck going towards you and a car trying to pass that truck," continued my wife. "And he never saw you. Then what?"

"I would get onto . . . . ." and then she stopped. Because there for the first time it must have dawned upon her that she would be trapped with the baby carriage. She couldn't get onto the narrow sidewalk because there was a protective railing. I hope she does use that sidewalk in the future. But whether or not she will, is anyone's guess.

The next day I spoke to a mother who took her baby carriage across the street but against the light. Forcing one motorist to "stop dead." With the second car almost hitting him. Then came that one word question: "Why?"

"It is takes so long to get across," she told me. "In fact if I start with the green light I usually end up two thirds of the way across with a red light. Either they should lengthen the time intervals or do what they do in my home town. There they have a special pedestrian light. And it says "Walk." You can't make a turn on that light so it is really very safe to go across the street with a baby carriage."

As for the kids who insist on playing stick ball or touch football in the street — I guess we have all met them. Actually they regard your car as sort of an intruder. And they even will try to continue playing as you drive through the street! Maybe they have developed some kind of an immunity. And when you talk to them, what do they tell you?

"O.K. mister. So you're right. But that doesn't make us wrong. You tell us where we can play."

When I told them there was a ball field some five blocks from this street, they had the answer ready.

"Sure, but you have to have a team permit to play there. So where can we play?"

I do feel a lot of near-heart attacks on the part of drivers could be avoided if we gave more attention to the problem presented by these kids. The police have set some streets aside as "Play Areas," — but the people living there are still entitled to get there in their cars and to park there.

The old and the infirm do need special consideration. But the problem is "How?" As one woman said to me: "I just can't make it in one light. You explain how I can cross safely?" As I write this I can glance out of my window onto our Main Street. There are two safety islands there. So an old or infirm person can make it to one safety island. Then to the next and finally across the highway. The other day I watched an old man cross the highway. Midway the light turned against him. He held up his hand and continued. By the way — I suggest that all drivers check the law in their community about the right of a person going across the street to continue even if the light changes.

Strange as it seems-even a careful driver sometimes becomes a dangerous Pedestrian himself. I refer to the driver who parks his car across the street from the house or store which he wants to visit. So what does he do? He gets out on the left hand side of his car and dashes across the street. And how mad he would get if somebody did that to him while he was driving. Sometimes I think every person has two "personalities." One as a driver and the other as a Pedestrian.

Of course, if every Pedestrian as well as every Driver did obey traffic rules and regulations, I think we would have the ideal world. But until that day arrives, we have a lot of hard clear thinking to do about how to make the streets and highways safe for all concerned.

Just One Second.

How long is a second? Offhand you would remark that a second is only one-sixtieth of a minute. And sixty minutes in an hour — you would end up with the statement that there are 3600 seconds in an hour. Or that a second is a one-3600th. part of an hour. Now a second is really just an interval of time as far as we are concerned here. And it also can be the difference between life and death and also the difference between having a serious accident to your car or not having one at all.

You are going at the speed of twenty-five miles an hour along an access road into the Speedway. There the legal speed is sixty miles an hour. You want to get into the correct lane and there is a car not "too far away." But how far is it? If that car is making sixty miles an hour that means it is doing a mile a minute. Now here are some simple calculations to bear in mind:

There are 5280 feet in a mile. Which means that other car is making 5280 feet per minute. And since there are 60 seconds in a minute that means the car is doing 88 feet per second! Shake your head to the side — that took but a second — while the other car did those 88 feet. You see the car coming and wonder whether or not you can get into the lane before him? While you are wondering what to do — more seconds are ticking off on your clock — and that car is going 88 feet more towards you for every one of those seconds.

If you hesitate — the best thing to do is not to try to get into that lane ahead of the oncoming car. Let him go ahead. What about the car behind you? True, the driver may be an impatient person. He wants to get home early. So he honks his horn as a signal to you to get moving. He is annoyed that you are delaying him. Don't let that horn — or even his shouts — change your decision. If it is dangerous to get into that main lane — you just wait. The law is on your side. Up the country, I sometimes have to wait until nine or ten cars pass before I can safely swing into the lane. On the other hand he might not do that. He may feel you should wait. Or he might have seen drivers who jump a lane and swing in before his car. With Death and Disaster held off only by a few inches.

I have suggested to some drivers that they really should learn how to estimate distances correctly. Because if that car is doing sixty miles an hour — and the distance is but 880 feet away — then the time interval to reach you is but ten seconds. And you should also be able to estimate the speed of the oncoming car.

THE END