A day of reckoning

It has become painfully obvious to me that Saturday night in Hahira on Futch Road, someone or some persons are playing a game of “kill the cat.”

After having just buried two more of our beloved cats, we are going to do our best to find out whether any of our neighbors are experiencing this problem.

Personally, I am going to pay a visit to the police department and try and get the speeders taken care of. This is number four of our cats and one of someone else’s that we have buried over the last year.

I am disgusted to think that people can devaluate the life of an animal like that. These are actions that the perpetrators should be accountable for.

For the reasons above, I do not feel these incidents are accidental nor am I convinced that it’s youngsters at fault. Whoever it is, will be answering to someone down the line. When you are sitting around with your head bowed shamefully, feeling sorry for yourself, remember your “sorry self” killing those poor defenseless creatures.

They had names, Pumpkin, Pixie, Trixie and Geo. We will miss them. I hope that the day of reckoning for whoever is doing this comes soon.

Eunice Jones

Hahira

Impressed with law-enforcement

I am most impressed with the law-enforcement agencies in Georgia. To have cleaned up the drug problem in the state is a magnificent achievement. These crimes must no longer be an issue, or how else could the state afford to release so many officers and assets to stop mini-vans carrying families to Disney World in the middle of the night for doing 61 mph in a 60 zone. But all was not as it appeared.

I was traveling southbound on I-75 at mile marker 42. The conditions were dry, light traffic, both lanes open, with no lights (it was 11:30 at night), no construction equipment, no men working and the only thing to indicate a construction zone were orange barrels strategically placed along the median and a posted speed limit of 60 MPH about 20 miles back.

I was flowing with the traffic around 60 mph when a police car appeared behind me with lights on. I pulled over at the next convenient safe area (exit 39) which happened to place me behind another police car that had stopped a motorist. (There were a lot of flashing blue lights that night.) The officer said it was a 50 zone. I said I thought it was a 60. He wrote me a ticket. He was very cordial and respectful. I thank him for that.

Five days later, as I was returning to my home state traveling north on I-75, I analyzed how this trap was set. The farthest south point of the “construction” zone was at mile marker 39. In both directions two lanes were traversable. The speed limit in both directions was 50 mph until mile marker 44 at which time the speed limit went to 60 mph (both directions.) The speed limit remained 60 mph until approximately mile marker 60 and the end of the “construction” zone. There was no change in road conditions in either direction at the point where the speed limit changed.