“Somebody ought to do something!”
I was second in line at the traffic light. My lane and the one to my right were all turning left onto Dauphin Street in Mobile. The third lane was turning right.
We sat through through three sequences of lights. Meanwhile, the line of cars behind us grew longer and longer.
Clearly, the light was malfunctioning, but only on our side. Traffic from the other directions was receiving the correct sequence of lights. Our light stayed red.
I was traveling home from a revival in Selma, Alabama, and had stopped for a late-morning breakfast at the Cracker Barrel. After a fairly demanding week with 1500 miles of driving, I was relaxed now and willing to sit there in the traffic without getting impatient.
But not all day.
Finally, I had had enough. The light was not working and the cars in front of me were showing no inclination to move.
So, I got out.