Virginia Code Section § 46.2-206.1 went into effect on July 1, 2007. If you haven’t had a chance to read 46.2-206.1 yet, go ahead and do it now. Go on. I’ll wait ………
O.K. So now you know that effective July 1, our Commonwealth “shall assess” “civil remedy fees” upon convictions for: driving on a suspended license (fee = $250 per year for 3 years); reckless or aggressive driving (fee = $350 per year for 3 years); DUI (fee = $750 per year for 3 years); misdemeanor driving offenses (fee = $300 per year for 3 years); and felony driving convictions (fee = $1,000 per year for 3 years). It would appear that this law applies equally to adults and juveniles.
As you’ve probably heard, Virginia needs money for the Highway Maintenance and Operating Fund, and this Bill represents a compromise to keep from raising taxes. And what better place to get the money than from rotten drivers. I have no problem with this. The glitch is that these “civil remedy fees” only apply to “any resident of Virginia operating a motor vehicle on the highways of Virginia, including persons to whom Virginia driver's licenses, commercial driver's licenses, or learner's permits have been issued pursuant to this title; and persons operating motor vehicles without licenses or whose license has been revoked or suspended.”
What’s up with this? Bad drivers from other states get diplomatic immunity from these civil fees? Sure, people who violate Virginia’s driving laws can be real jerks; but why are we only punishing OUR jerks? As you might have guessed, this whole thing reminds me of a funny story.
In February of 1980, I drove to Upstate New York with a woman who at the time was destined to be both my first and former wife. It was the first time I would meet my future and future former in-laws. My betrothed’s father was the superintendent of schools in a small town north of Albany, and at one point during our stay I found myself at an evening soiree with a half dozen school board members and their spouses. It was one of those wine and cheese parties at which I have never excelled.
Seeing no need to pack a tie or sport coat for the trip, I was clearly under dressed for the occasion. I tried to mingle as best I could with this group of upper crust do-gooders, but they only seemed interested in mocking my Virginia accent. “Since when is ‘that’ a two-syllable word?” “Are you from Mayberry?” “Say something else.” “That’s so cute.” I felt like a trained seal.
Eventually, I was approached by a distinguished-looking man in his early 60’s, wearing a tweed sport coat and a maroon tie. “I have a bone to pick with you, young man,” he said between sips of his white wine. How could this guy have a bone to pick with me, I wondered. I didn’t even know who he was. But he went on to indignantly explain how he and his wife, Muffy, had been driving through King George County, Virginia the previous summer when they were pulled over by a Deputy Sheriff and ticketed for speeding.
“And I can assure you, son, that I was not traveling in excess of the posted speed when I was stopped,” the man went on. “And the deputy took me to some chicken coop where I was required to pay a $40 fine.”
The man had expressed his dismay so loudly that every eye in the room was on me, awaiting a response. What could I say? “Sorry?” “Here’s your 40 bucks back?” I felt as though I was being called upon to justify the actions of Virginia’s entire law enforcement community. O.K., I thought. You asked for it.
“Why, yes sir,” I said clearing my throat. “That’s how we do things in Virginia.” There was a collective gasp and everyone leaned in to hear.
“Our law enforcement people are constantly on the lookout for cars with New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania license plates,” I explained. “And when they find one they are authorized to pull that vehicle over and charge the driver $40. I believe the fee is higher in Fairfax County.”
The room erupted. “What?” cried one woman. “Outrageous!” shouted another. “Kill him!” screamed a man in the back of the room.
“Please,” I raised my arms to quiet the crowd. “Let me explain. As I drove up here from Virginia, I spent $40 in tolls through New Jersey and New York. Those toll booths represent a lot of overhead for you taxpayers. You have to build and maintain the booths, and you have to staff them 24/7. So I suspect that very little profit was realized from the 40 bucks collected from me. In fact, your overhead is so high that it may well have cost y’all money to collect my tolls.”
The room fell silent, except for the “Dear God” groaned by my future former father-in-law. The audience was rapt in a combination of disbelief and horror. Emboldened by their incapacity, I continued, “Yeah, that’s right. In Virginia, and in many other Southern states, law enforcement personnel are always looking for you and your Northern license plates. We get our $40 without building all those unsightly toll booths and paying the wages and benefits for all those unionized booth-tenders. Our police officers are working anyway. It’s really no problem to pull you over and take your money. The overhead involved is zero. It’s all pure profit.”
Needless to say, my future/future former bride and I did not linger long at the party after that. We scurried off to a neighborhood bar and settled into a booth for a drink. “Why did you say all those things back there, pumpkin?” my fiancée asked. “They thought you were serious. Those School Board Members are really ticked. So is Daddy. Mr. Davenport may never travel south of the Mason-Dixon Line again.”
And that would impact me how? I wondered.
(Gary Conway is the Director of
the 25th District Court Service Unit with offices in Staunton,
Waynesboro, Lexington, Covington and Botetourt.)
