Yep, you ran that red light; will you get a ticket?
John Barry, Times Staff Writer
In Print: Sunday, December 21, 2008
Temple Terrace police Officer Carl Avari-Cooper looks at videos of cars running red lights. He must decide if the driver should be cited; usually his answer is yes.
Police Officer Carl Avari- Cooper is a student of human nature, a philosopher of sorts. Before he writes a traffic ticket, Carl likes to know what the driver was thinking when he broke the law, what his motivation was.
Carl is also a human cash machine. Back at the station, he reviews videos of cars running through traffic lights at two intersections in Temple Terrace. Every time he clicks his mouse on "Accept," somebody gets fined 100 bucks.
Click. 100 bucks.
Click. 100 bucks.
Click. 100 bucks.
Usually, he clicks about 40 times an hour. That makes an hour of clicking worth $4,000 — more citations than 10 motorcycle cops could write.
But every so often, Carl's index finger freezes in mid click. His finger hovers half a millimeter over the mouse button. Carl replays the video. He strains to look. He replays it again. He can't see the driver running the light. He sees only the car. That's all he has to go on — the car.
About one-third of the time, he sees something that makes him guide the arrow away from "Accept."
It's the strangest thing, when he doesn't click.
• • •
From a legal perspective, everyone on the videos deserves to be fined. They're all guilty, even if they swear otherwise. The camera shutter only works when a car is rolling and the light is red. Besides, the one discovery the city of Temple Terrace has made since it installed cameras at two busy intersections is that running lights is the norm — "de rigueur," as Carl puts it.
It's rare that someone brazenly flies through a red light at 60 mph. But hardly anyone comes to a full stop before turning right on a red light — if there is the teeniest opportunity not to. Most glance left to see if cars are coming, hit the gas and zoom through. They almost never look to the right for the pedestrian, the flock of kids, the grandma in the scooter chair.
This is the situation since last September, when Temple Terrace placed cameras where 56th Street crosses Fowler Avenue and Bullard Parkway.
At each of the intersections, cameras take two still photos of every light-running car — one showing the car entering the intersection after the light is red, the other showing the license tag. Another camera records a video. A strobe flash goes off every time. Those who see a flash can expect a present in the mail.
It's better to get caught this way. No officer is present to smell your breath and make you stand on one foot. Also, the penalty is considerably less. Under Florida statutes, the fine for running a red light is $206 plus three points on your license. Being caught on camera in Temple Terrace is a municipal offense: a $100 fine and no points.
So far, the cameras have caught about 7,000 drivers running the lights. Out of all those, Temple Terrace has cited about 4,000. (One woman got two in one day.)
The lucky 3,000 who escaped did something that either Officer Carl or another reviewer saw as redeeming. Whatever it was, it happened in a split second.
• • •
One recent day, Officer Carl has his eye on the computer monitor and his right hand on the mouse. Philosophically, Carl says, "I've always subscribed to being non-punitive."
Carl talks that way, thoughtfully, wistfully.
He seems the kind of cop who might listen to your pitiful excuse — that you were just about to give birth as the light turned red, or you were slipping into a diabetic coma.
He's at a disadvantage when he reviews the videos. It's man vs. machine. He wants to be a police officer, not just a button-pushing robot. But he can't talk to the driver, or even see who's driving.
So far, it's not a good day for guilty parties. Carl clicks the "Accept" button one video after another. A Ford Taurus takes the right on red at 17 mph. Click. A Ford Explorer takes it at 16 mph. Click.
"I'm looking for hesitancy," he says.
He's not seeing it.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Carl is busting drivers at a carpal tunnel pace.
Here comes a Jeep. It rolls into the crosswalk. Carl's finger bends toward Click. Then, for the briefest instant, the Jeep's brake lights flash.
"I saw a slow roll."
He runs the video again. He stares at the brake lights. They flash only a second. But they do flash. Could the driver be thinking "oops"?
Carl looks hard. "I think I see a shred of conscience."
He lets the guy slide.
John Barry can be reached at jbarry@sptimes.com.
[Last modified: Dec 23, 2008 04:54 PM]
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