В Рутланде призывают водителей проявлять терпение к пешеходам-пожилым людям

As Vermont summers are becoming as hot as those around the world, many of us boomers choose early morning for our fitness walks. We hope to catch that fleeting, cool Green Mountain breeze before the humidity sets in. It is a beautiful time of day to be out and about, among the fragrant flowers and glorious trees offering gentle breezes. But lately, those morning outings are becoming increasingly tenuous, not because of the rising mercury, but because of the rising impatience on our local roads. On at least three occasions recently, I have stood patiently waiting for the “Walk” signal at the busy intersection of routes 7 and 4. When it flashes, I don’t delay or ponder my strategy. I know what to do, people: I sprint across that intersection at the very fast, determined pace of a decades-long Manhattan dweller. Having survived the perilous avenues of New York City, I know better than to jaywalk, and I certainly know the arrogance of big-city drivers. I expected to leave that particular brand of vehicular hostility behind when I moved here. Yet, this very morning, the following scene unfolded. I stepped off the curb with the right of way. A genuinely courteous driver, the kind of Vermonter we all like to think we are, saw the “Walk” signal, saw me, a pedestrian, and properly stopped to let me pass before attempting his right turn. I waved at him and mouthed “thank you” as I quickly crossed. But then came the disruption: the driver immediately behind him. This second motorist — who had obviously spent a bit too much time surfing the web that morning, indulging in some kind of digital self-aggrandizement, and was now running late for whatever supremely important appointment awaited — laid on the horn. He blared that horn aggressively at the courteous driver who was simply obeying the law and waiting for me to cross safely. At me, he lobbed an ageist epithet. If it isn’t the impatient honker, it is the aggressive speeder. I have witnessed drivers who, evidently having way more important things to do than wait for a silver-haired woman to cross the intersection, actually speed up the moment they spot me in the crosswalk. It is as if my very existence as a pedestrian is an affront to their schedule. This is not merely a matter of morning annoyance; it is a matter of life and death. Need we remind ourselves of the horrible, heartbreaking incident several years ago on Strongs Avenue? A vehicle operated by a driver under the influence killed an elderly pedestrian right here in Rutland. The anguish that ripped through our community was palpable, a dark cloud of grief that hovered over us all. That tragedy should have served as a permanent wake-up call, yet some folks behind the wheel seem to have already hit the snooze button. We are incredibly fortunate to live in a region that actively champions the health and well-being of its older residents. Organizations, like RRMC, Come Alive Outside, Southwestern Vermont Council on Aging, do phenomenal, valiant work in our community. They tirelessly encourage seniors to stay active, to keep moving, and to embrace the outdoors. They understand that our physical and mental health depends on our ability to safely navigate our own neighborhoods. So, I am issuing a polite but decidedly urgent call to action to my fellow Rutland-area drivers — women as well as men. Please, as the mercury rises, so should your patience. Allow enough time to get to where you’re going. Plan your day with others in mind. Drive with caution, and when you approach an intersection, actively look for pedestrians. When the signal says “Walk,” it means we have the right to be there, and it means you have an obligation to wait. A delay of 15 seconds will not ruin your day, but failing to wait could permanently ruin multiple lives. Liz DiMarco Weinmann lives in Rutland.