A ride in a cop car
Some 60 years ago, I left Tokyo, Japan, to live in a small town in Oklahoma. One day, I took the bus to go shopping but ended up with quite an armful of packages. I thought it best to take a taxi home. Within a short time, it appeared my ride had pulled over. I gave the driver my address and off we went. The driver even helped me carry my packages into my apartment. “What do I owe you?” I asked in my then broken English. “Not a dime, Miss,” he replied with a big smile. “I’m a police officer.”
—Fumiko Cascio, San Diego, California
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