Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: FRIDAY, July 6, 1990 TAG: 9007060137
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: B-1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: Ed Shamy
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
After all, the king can't tax us anymore, he can't carry us back to England anymore to stand trial, he can't quarter his troops among us. Surely the monarch must understand that automobiles are to 1990 American freedom what muskets were to freedom in 1776.
And finally, on the Fourth of July, a holiday set aside to celebrate America's freedom not to be forced to pay taxes to England but rather to tax itself to death, we would figure that government would have the common decency to lay off the one-hour parking regulations and quit shoving its rapacious fingers into the purses of the common folk.
And on top of all this, if a guy such as Jonathan Reed were to perform in Mill Mountain Theatre's production of "1776," portraying Charles Thomson, the secretary of Congress, that he would be given a break on top of a break.
A Fourth of July matinee of "1776," an actor, a holiday to celebrate the throwing-off of tyrannical forces - of course, parking rules have been eased for today. It could be no other way.
Ah, but this is America and these things never work out quite so neatly.
Jonathan Reed, the actor, is not related to George Read of Delaware, a Declaration of Independence signer.
He arrives at the near-empty Center in the Square at 1 p.m. on Declaration Day and parks his truck. He walks toward the theater, preparing to put on his costume and his makeup for the 2 p.m. show.
"Usually, on Saturdays or evenings, you can park downtown with no problem. So I parked, figuring that holidays were the same," said Reed.
A woman standing nearby, though, warned him. One-hour parking restrictions were being enforced. By the time the show ended and actor Reed went back outside to his truck a few hours later, Roanoke's finest would have punished him.
"No way," figured Reed. "I just blew it off."
Once inside, the other actors were putting on their costumes, and the talk was of the city's staunch enforcement - even on holidays - of some parking laws.
Reed, fuming, went outside and moved his truck.
"I could not believe it. I was so ticked off," he said.
"Theater patrons would park there, go inside to enjoy a production of `1776' - about the independence of Americans from tyranny - and come out to find parking tickets on their cars?" Reed was on a roll even a day later.
Alas, it is true.
Parking meter rules are waived in Roanoke on July 4 and a half-dozen or so other holidays. But non-meter parking is enforced every day the same way. One-hour parking is one-hour parking, I don't care if you're busy dumping tea into the Roanoke River, pal.
"It says a hell of a lot about Roanoke, that's for sure," said Reed, the secretary of Congress. "I really do think it's a crock."
Grab your musket, Jonathan. Let's go get 'em.
by CNB