Dear Mr. Red Dodge Truck Driver:
You didn’t realize I was watching, did you?
Naww.
For you, it was just another trip to Crest. You needed a few things and you were in a hurry.
Believe me, with a wife and four kids, I understand those unannounced grocery store trips.
But once you raced through the parking lot, things changed. That big red pickup you’re driving isn’t a toy. It’s a vehicle and in an enclosed area like a parking lot, any speed above five miles per hour is way too fast.
But that wasn’t your worst offense.
Since the Crest store in Moore is usually pretty busy, most people have to park further back and spend a little shoe leather to get to the doors.
Not you.
You circled the lot twice, then pulled right up to the front.
Right next to the door.
In the handicap spot.
Remember those?
They are usually painted blue and white with the image of a person in a wheelchair. They’re pretty hard to miss.
I know, it may seem like a small thing to you, but it’s not.
Allow me to explain:
Back in the ’80s, several congressmen put their political careers on the line to develop and pass a measure called the Americans with Disabilities Act. Now, I know, you don’t pay much attention to politics because, hey, there might be a basketball game on, or because you were too busy with NASCAR, but that little ADA thingy was — and still is — a pretty major piece of legislation.
You see, one of the features of this law was that it changed building codes. It said that new buildings had to provide adequate access for people who were disabled.
In other words, new buildings had to have doors wide enough for a person in a wheelchair to get through and they had to set aside a certain number of parking spots in their parking lots for people who were handicapped.
Now, here’s where you figure into this whole ADA debate.
To take advantage of these spots, a driver has to display a handicap sticker in their vehicle. That sticker tells the world that the driver — or someone that driver is transporting — is physically disabled and, by law, is allowed to park in spots designated for handicapped individuals.
Funny thing, that big red truck of yours didn’t have a handicap sticker.
And, my friend, from the way you bounced into the store, you were not handicapped, either.
I know, to you it was no big deal.
But for the thousands of people — taxpayers just like you — who are disabled or who use a wheelchair, those spots are a godsend. Those little blue and white icons mean that people in wheelchairs, too, easily can get inside the grocery store.
Until you spend your life in a wheelchair, you have no idea of the struggles these people face. Until you have lived day in and day out with a physcial disability, you have no idea what it takes just to live a “normal” life.
Granted, it was a warm, sunny day.
But just imagine trying to navigate your wheelchair through a narrow doorway while the wind is driving snow and sleet in your face.
Life could be just a little bit easier if you had access to a blue and white spot.
Especially if you’re in a hurry.
I guess what really frosted me, beyond your blatant insensitivity to the needs of others, was that you managed to take up not one, but two, handicapped spaces — all because you didn’t want to walk across the parking lot.
But wait, there’s more.
Just after you went inside, a tan and brown four-door Buick pulled into the lot, too.
It was an older car, well cared for, but older.
The driver was careful.
Unlike you, she slowed down for the pregnant mother with the two small children who were walking their groceries to their car. She waited patiently as a stock boy pushed stray carts back into the store. And when she went to park, well, she chose a spot about half a block away from the door.
I had just put my groceries in the car, so I watched this other driver.
She parked, got out of her car and walked to the trunk.
She opened the trunk and reached inside.
From inside, she placed a collapsible aluminum walker on the pavement and began moving slowly toward the store’s entrance.
She walked right past your truck.
After she went into the store, I walked to the front of her car. There, hanging from the mirror was a blue and white handicapped parking pass.
You didn’t realize I was watching, did you?
Naww.
For you, it was just another trip to Crest. You needed a few things and you were in a hurry.
Believe me, with a wife and four kids, I understand those unannounced grocery store trips.
But once you raced through the parking lot, things changed. That big red pickup you’re driving isn’t a toy. It’s a vehicle and in an enclosed area like a parking lot, any speed above five miles per hour is way too fast.
But that wasn’t your worst offense.
Since the Crest store in Moore is usually pretty busy, most people have to park further back and spend a little shoe leather to get to the doors.
Not you.
You circled the lot twice, then pulled right up to the front.
Right next to the door.
In the handicap spot.
Remember those?
They are usually painted blue and white with the image of a person in a wheelchair. They’re pretty hard to miss.
I know, it may seem like a small thing to you, but it’s not.
Allow me to explain:
Back in the ’80s, several congressmen put their political careers on the line to develop and pass a measure called the Americans with Disabilities Act. Now, I know, you don’t pay much attention to politics because, hey, there might be a basketball game on, or because you were too busy with NASCAR, but that little ADA thingy was — and still is — a pretty major piece of legislation.
You see, one of the features of this law was that it changed building codes. It said that new buildings had to provide adequate access for people who were disabled.
In other words, new buildings had to have doors wide enough for a person in a wheelchair to get through and they had to set aside a certain number of parking spots in their parking lots for people who were handicapped.
Now, here’s where you figure into this whole ADA debate.
To take advantage of these spots, a driver has to display a handicap sticker in their vehicle. That sticker tells the world that the driver — or someone that driver is transporting — is physically disabled and, by law, is allowed to park in spots designated for handicapped individuals.
Funny thing, that big red truck of yours didn’t have a handicap sticker.
And, my friend, from the way you bounced into the store, you were not handicapped, either.
I know, to you it was no big deal.
But for the thousands of people — taxpayers just like you — who are disabled or who use a wheelchair, those spots are a godsend. Those little blue and white icons mean that people in wheelchairs, too, easily can get inside the grocery store.
Until you spend your life in a wheelchair, you have no idea of the struggles these people face. Until you have lived day in and day out with a physcial disability, you have no idea what it takes just to live a “normal” life.
Granted, it was a warm, sunny day.
But just imagine trying to navigate your wheelchair through a narrow doorway while the wind is driving snow and sleet in your face.
Life could be just a little bit easier if you had access to a blue and white spot.
Especially if you’re in a hurry.
I guess what really frosted me, beyond your blatant insensitivity to the needs of others, was that you managed to take up not one, but two, handicapped spaces — all because you didn’t want to walk across the parking lot.
But wait, there’s more.
Just after you went inside, a tan and brown four-door Buick pulled into the lot, too.
It was an older car, well cared for, but older.
The driver was careful.
Unlike you, she slowed down for the pregnant mother with the two small children who were walking their groceries to their car. She waited patiently as a stock boy pushed stray carts back into the store. And when she went to park, well, she chose a spot about half a block away from the door.
I had just put my groceries in the car, so I watched this other driver.
She parked, got out of her car and walked to the trunk.
She opened the trunk and reached inside.
From inside, she placed a collapsible aluminum walker on the pavement and began moving slowly toward the store’s entrance.
She walked right past your truck.
After she went into the store, I walked to the front of her car. There, hanging from the mirror was a blue and white handicapped parking pass.
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