THE DOCTOR'S MOTHER

An older woman approached me at the bench, waving a “no parking” ticket. For some reason I could sense from the outset that I probably wasn't going to get the true story from her. Like most respondents, she came to the hearing to try to avoid paying a fine. I asked her for her ID. As she was pulling it out, I noticed she had a photograph of what was clearly a young man in graduation robes. So I said, a little shamelessly, "Oh, is that your husband?" "No!" she said, pleased. "That's my son! When he graduated from Medical School!" She beamed with all the pride of a Jewish mother.

I looked at her driver’s license and said, "Mrs. Goldstein, please raise your right hand. I went on, “Mrs. Goldstein ... do you swear to me ... do you give me your word as a mother ... that you will tell me the truth about this ticket? That you will tell me the same story that you would tell your son the Doctor?"

She threw up her hands as if she were about to be arrested. With what sounded like despair in her voice she said, "Alright. Fine. I'll tell you the truth." And she did. Unfortunately, I had to find her guilty, but we both knew it was the right decision.

Rev. 2002-02-17