Dennis Frey

The officer looked carefully at the screen. Driver: “Look at your patrol car.” The officer stared at the video. Then he understood. His dashcam had captured the same thing from a different angle. The SUV had clearly been speeding. And the officer had clearly seen it. For several seconds, neither man spoke. Finally, the officer looked at the ticket. Officer: “I should have stopped both of you.” Driver: “Yes.” The officer took the citation back. Officer: “I'm not going to cancel yours.” The driver nodded. Driver: “I didn't ask you to.” The officer handed it back. Officer: “You broke the law.” Driver: “I did.” Officer: “And so did that driver.” Driver: “Exactly.” The officer looked down the road. Officer: “I'll be looking for that SUV.” The driver started his car. Before leaving, he lowered the window. Driver: “Officer?” Officer: “Yeah?” Driver: “Thank you.” Officer: “For what?” Driver: “For treating me like everyone else.” The officer nodded. Officer: “Drive safely.” The driver pulled away. The officer stood there for a moment. Then he looked at the ticket in his hand. He hadn't learned that the driver was innocent. He'd learned something more important: Being right about someone's mistake doesn't give you permission to be wrong about your own.