Dear Professor:
This was told to me by a guy from Torrington, Connecticut
.
A man was driving home late one evening going south on 1–91. He had taken several drinks earlier, and this was so obvious that he was soon pulled over
.
As the state cop approached the car, an accident occurred in a northbound lane, so the cop told him to get out of the car and wait. The cop crossed the median to see if he could be of any help
.
The drunk waited a while, and then decided the hell with it. He hopped in the car and took off home. There he told his wife to tell the police, if they should call, that he had been home all night, as sober as a judge
.
The next morning the doorbell rang, and when he answered it, two state cops were standing there, including the one who had stopped him. Naturally, he claimed he had been home all night. “Just ask my wife,” he said
.
His wife backed up the story, but the cops asked if they could look in the garage. The man, not sure what was going on, said “Sure. ” And when they opened the garage, there was the police cruiser, its lights still flashing
.
John Ruckes
Branford, Conn
.
Gullible Reader:
A new urban legend often seems to become popular simultaneously in different locations. Your story, which I call “The Arrest,” demonstrates
how this happened in
the space of a few months recently
.
Even without the proof furnished by two earlier versions of this tale that I heard
—supposedly it happened in other locales
—I would have suspected this one to be a legend. It has just the right mix of believability, irony, and humor to suggest that it’s a “true” story that’s too good to be true (which is not a bad definition of “urban legend”)
.
Ruckes’s letter is dated July 14, 1986, but I have a cousin of “The Arrest” on file from the
Washington Post column “Bob Levey’s Washington” of April 7, 1986. Levey heard that the motorist had been pulled over by the police in Fairfax County, Virginia. It was said that the cruiser found in the man’s garage still had the motor running
.
The police spokesman Levey consulted, however, denied any knowledge of the event, except in the form of a story he had heard going around some eighteen months before. As another police authority sagely commented, “Certain stories develop, and they seem to get a life of their own
.”
I’ve practically based my whole career on that principle
.
A version of the same legend was sent to me in mid-May 1986 by Suzanne Timbers of Henley-on-Thames, England. It’s full of wonderfully specific details
.
The driver’s car is a Ford Escort, and the incident was alleged to have happened “down the Bath Road in Reading.” When the first driver gets home, in the English variation, he has a couple more drinks so he can honestly claim he drank after driving. The police arrive the same day to discover their own cruiser
—also a Ford Escort
—in the garage
.
In September 1986 I received two further versions of “The Arrest” from Gainesville, Florida, and Ottawa
(Ontario), Canada. Both writers recalled having seen the story in a local newspaper, and both letters expressed some skepticism about the truth of the tale. “Something tells me you may have heard the story before,” wrote the Canadian; and “You gotta admit it sounds unlikely,” commented the Floridian. Right you are, both of you!