Date:         Fri, 7 Jan 2011 20:54:26 -0800
Reply-To:     Peter DiFalco <peter.difalco@GMAIL.COM>
Sender:       Vanagon Mailing List <vanagon@gerry.vanagon.com>
From:         Peter DiFalco <peter.difalco@GMAIL.COM>
Subject:      Re: VW Van Profiling
In-Reply-To:  <AANLkTikg2Z0t=UF3F7EK4-XAgByrnevRSKqx_BWhmQWO@mail.gmail.com>
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It's been a long time since I told this story, so why not make the
most of the end of a Friday and share?

My wife and I took a 6 month trip around the US and Canada in our '71
bus back in 2002. Got lots of friendly looks and even kinder welcome
from many strangers, and even a few men and women of the law who were
just ever so slightly glad to see Americans taking an interest in
seeing the beauty and diversity of our land and people at an
unsettling time, just after 9/11. The Alabama cops were less
welcoming.

The way we piece it together in retrospect is this: a policeman saw us
drive into a state campground for the night. We dutifully recorded
both of our names and vehicle information on the state park check-in
registry. In no other way could my wife (girlfriend at the time) be
legally identified with our vehicle, as it was exclusively mine.

The cop, unbeknownst to us, puts out on the police network a
"pretextual" bulletin (meaning, creates a pretext) declaring our
names, vehicle information, and the juicy tidbit that we are
transporting hundreds of pounds of California marijuana. Perhaps he
had heard the story about the splitty that was sold to a new owner,
frame packed with vintage ganja (how's that for "patina"?).

So we left the state park the next morning, on our way out of the
beautiful and fascinating cradle of the civil rights movement (having
visited such famous bastions of police civility as Selma and
Birmingham), and three counties later we were cruising along
comfortably though the back country highways as per VW transporter
dictum, when we were pulled over by not one, not two, but three of the
local police. They had in hand a printout of the pretextual bulletin,
which according to AL state law gave him a reasonable suspicion and
thus the legal right to search our vehicle. Which they did - carefully
spreading all of our carefully packed belongings in a 25ft radius
around the vehicle, and less carefully prying out my door and kick
panels (breaking the hard board instead of pulling the clips). They
told us that if they had found a large amount of cash, they would be
arresting us and confiscating the cash due to the fact we had already
conducted our transaction. So I was glad, at that moment, that we had
elected not to stockpile cash for our adventures. Not to mention glad
we had left those hundreds of pounds of marijuana at home in
California instead of carrying it with us 2000 miles in a hippy van to
thousands of grateful Alabama Rastafarians. I kept thinking about
being in a jail cell and retaining Joe Pesci as my attorney
(reference: "My Cousin Vinny").

The cops were, to their credit, polite and never cuffed us or
mistreated us. They took three hours of our day, ruined my van
interior, and shook my faith in our "system". Thanks, Alabama. As we
left, my wife and I turned to each other, and in light of our previous
day's historic landmark explorations, I said, "what if we'd been
black?" She reminded me of the current climate of the nation in the
wake of 9/11 and said, "what if we'd been Arabs?" I would like to
think it wouldn't have mattered. I respect the police; they do a hard
job, are there when I need them, and they don't solicit bribes like in
other countries. But "pretexts" and profiling erode the pride I feel
about this country, and it certainly became a standout memory whenever
I think of Alabama.

Thanks for letting me do a little Friday ranting.
-Peter
Chico, CA