I was disappointed by the National Night Out, which was promoted as a way of connecting police to communities.
I had walked along the sidewalk to Lake Street and then made my way down the middle of State Street to Randolph. A band played in the middle of the street. Several tents promoted services. Canine handlers had their dogs. Food lines were long.
Nothing was noteworthy, so I walked to the corner of Randolph toward home. I had the white walk light and stood in the crosswalk next to a police officer, who continued to wave through left-turning cars from the opposite direction.
The traffic light turned yellow and then read. The officer asked me to step back.
“I was trying to cross with the light,” I said, “but you wouldn’t stop waving traffic.”
She gave me a side-eye. “That’s why we’re here,” she said.
To prevent pedestrians from crossing the street? I wanted to say but didn’t want to press my luck.
Others approached. I hoped one or more would press ahead just to see what the officer would say. None did.
The walk light flipped white again. I shook my head and re-entered the crosswalk. So much for connecting with the community.
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