Anyway, the punishment was mandatory attendance in the basement of the Burbank police building on a Saturday morning. It was traffic school for kids. And that same motorcycle cop was in charge. Officer Joe Wilson.
Truth be told, all of us kids there were frightened when he first stood up in his motorcycle boots and stared us down.
I'll say this: we paid attention to what he had to say. And what he taught was the traffic code — the rules of the road. It was Wilson who made it clear to us that we had to obey all of the same laws that drivers of automobiles on city streets had to obey. I mean, he made it perfectly clear, or else.
OK, so I was a slow learner. I think I learned them one violation at a time.
It seems that whenever I would find it more convenient to ride on the sidewalk or to give my buddy a ride on the back of my bike, Wilson was watching me.
And he'd ticket me again. Another Saturday. Another lecture. It happened several times over the next couple of years.
I believe Officer Wilson singlehandedly taught an entire generation of young boys (and a few girls) how to drive safely — for life. It was a time when the Burbank Police Department was willing to invest in a full-time traffic officer to teach young people the rules of the road — and cite them when they broke those rules.
I wish they would do that today. I believe it would save lives.
There's no way to measure how many lives Wilson saved over the last 50 years. I still think of him as a hero. And I have to believe that his lessons have kept me alive for five decades.
You see, when I watch impatient people drive through stop signs in their cars, or ride their bikes on the sidewalk or speed through intersections, I think about Wilson.
And I think about the drunk driver who, on June 17, 1961, ran a red light and plowed into the police motorcycle that Wilson was driving.