The Road Paved With Good Intentions

Officer Jenkins had a look of disbelief on his face as he eyed the wreckage and all the blood.  

“But my intentions were good,” Karen Culpepper said to him shortly after she caused the 15 car pile-up on Interstate 24.  Jenkins couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  Maybe this woman was manic.  Maybe she wasn’t in control of what she was saying.

He was so overwhelmed by the situation, he honestly didn’t know how to feel.  His intense sensations were all over the emotional spectrum, and he struggled to remain calm.

“Miss Culpepper,” he stammered, “are you aware that you caused a terrible wreck that has so far has claimed the lives of three people?”  He rubbed the side of his head and a look of disgust came over his face as he stared into her vacant eyes, searching for something to explain this terrible disaster.      

“And I just saw several taken by ambulance that didn't look too good." His voiced quivered and he swallowed deeply.  "They probably won’t make it,”

“Officer,” she pleaded, “my best friend has been really sick in the hospital and I was on my way to deliver her flowers.  It would really cheer her up.” She wiped a tear from her left cheek and pointed to the scattered flowers in the back seat of her shiny car.

Jenkins glanced at the flowers and his anger seemed to return.  “These flowers are not related to what happened,” he said.  “Since you were the driver at fault, I need to do a search of your car and I don't need a permit,” he barked.

He firmly moved her back against the patrol car.  Don't you move a muscle," he said.

She gasped in disbelief as he began searching through the passenger side of the car.

There wasn’t a scratch to be found on the outside of the sedan.  She had veered into the other lane and then  overcorrected her mistake, which caused her to panic and push down on the accelerator. She had weaved in and out of several cars and her actions created a panic among the other drivers.  One driver thought she was going to hit the side of his car and he slammed on the brakes, according to witnesses.  Then the cars rammed into him and each other, creating a deadly scene. The pile-up reportedly happened in just a few seconds.

“Sir, I would like to offer an explanation from my perspective.”  She held up her hand as though she was in class.

He wasn’t sure there could be a perspective other than the truth, but he let her keep talking.

“I didn’t hit any of those cars so I don’t think I am at fault,” she said.  Your proof is right here,” she wildly waved a hand toward the car.  

“I think I’ve heard enough,” he said, trying to keep the anger under control in his rigid body.  He stopped the search for a minute and roughly placed her in handcuffs. Then he continued with his flashlight pointed in her back seat.

“This is not fair,” she wept and tried to maneuver her hands out of the steel rings.  

After a quick search, he read her the Miranda Rights, speaking slowly and enunciating each word which helped him regain control of his anger.  

“Please, oh please,” she begged.  “It’s the thought that counts.  Don’t my good intentions count for anything?”

Jenkins slowly pushed in the button on the end of his flashlight and paused the movement briefly before turning it completely off.

“Mrs. Culpepper, good intentions mean nothing when you cause a disaster.  Don’t you feel the least bit responsible?”

She was silent for a couple of minutes.  He hoped reality had taken a spot in her mind.

“Officer, I just can’t take blame for this.  I’m sorry it had to happen, but I only had good intentions.”

He shook his head and took a few slow, deep breaths.

“No, you are wrong, Mrs. Culpepper.  This didn’t have to happen.  You made it happen.  Your actions caused this tragedy and there’s not a  spin in the world you can put on it to justify your actions.  All the witnesses have given the same account of how dangerous they saw you drive.”

His walkie Talkie squealed.  He turned down the volume a few notches and held the device to his ear. His face melted into a more somber look and he clipped the gadget back to his belt.  

“The latest update is worse.  Seven of the 12 victims that were taken to the hospital are no longer victims.  They are deceased.  Lady, I think you have some very difficult facts to face.”

A female police officer walked over and handed him an instrument which detects alcohol on the breath.

“Just take her in and book her,” Jenkins said, with disgust.  “I am sick of all of this.”

Culpepper softly sobbed as she was led to a police car.  Before she was helped into the back seat, she turned toward Jenkins.

“Officer,” she wailed.  “You don’t understand.  I was taking flowers to a sick friend and  I was doing a good deed. I can’t be guilty of anything!”  Her loud sobs matched the volume of the many sirens.

Jenkins walked toward her, never taking his eyes off her.

“You are now charged with seven more counts of homicide, bringing the total number to ten.  You have destroyed so many lives.”  His voice had turned robotic, but this was to conceal the rage he felt.

She thrashed around in the back seat of the police cruiser, trying to break free of the handcuffs. Her screams were louder.

“You don’t understand me.  This was not a crime of intent and you cannot blame me!”

Jenkins turned and marched to the cruiser.

“Miss Culpepper,” he pointed his finger in her face, “it may have started as an accident, but it was caused by your reckless disregard for human life.”

“Then it’s God’s fault!” her screams came from the back of the police car as it slowly pulled away.  “I was just delivering some damn flowers!”

Officer Jenkins removed the flowers from the back seat of Culpepper’s car and straightened out the bent stems.  He placed them one by one around the crime scene, and then he sat in his patrol car and cried.