Motorists for a Better America
Heard of the noble-sounding group? Only if you got a letter from me in the mid-1990s. Here’s the tale of my literary vigilante efforts—a kinder, gentler alternative to road rage.
Nearly 30 years ago, a select group of Chicago-area folks received correspondence from Motorists for a Better America, an organization “committed to improving road safety and reducing the number of fatalities and injuries that occur each day on our highways and byways.”
But you won’t find a shred of information anywhere about this noble-sounding group. Motorists for a Better America1 was simply a front for my own literary vigilante efforts to curb bad vehicular behavior.
Three ingredients brought it into being:
Ingredient #1: My job as a newspaper reporter (for The Courier News of Elgin, Ill.) whose duties include covering a nearby police department. In that role, I built trust and rapport with a high-ranking officer.2
Ingredient #2: My very real concern over reckless drivers I encounter in my day-to-day travels. I lived about 35 miles away from the newspaper office and between my commute and other assignments, I regularly racked up 500 miles a week in my Volkswagen GTI.
Lots of windshield time meant lots of opportunity to come across really bad drivers.
Ingredient #3: My mischievous, yet socially aspirational, imagination. In other words: I wanted to give these jerks a piece of my mind, while also giving them a reason to think twice before engaging in future jerky antics.
Put those elements together and, presto, Motorists for a Better America3 surfaced for roughly one year. Then, it quietly disbanded.
How it All Began
Like all super-hero narratives, this one has an origin story.4
One day, circa summer 1994, I’m heading home on the Northwest Tollway, about 25 miles west of Chicago, when I come upon a driver swerving erratically. He or she is going below the speed limit, across multiple lanes. The episode lasts for at least 30 seconds, holding traffic hostage as we look for the opening to zoom past and away from danger.
Being a reporter, I have ample time to note his license plate in my trusty notebook.
The next day, during my usual review of reports at the police station, I ask my contact there if he can share the address of the car’s registered owner. I make clear that I want to send a letter through my faux organization to convey concern over the incident as well as to emphasize the importance of safe driving.
The officer agrees and, off-hours back at home, I concoct the Motorists for a Better America name, assign it a random address, and create a simple single-page layout on my computer.
Next step: what tone should I adopt? Should I be shaking-my-fists angry? Assume a mocking tone? Take my best shot at shaming the scoundrel?
All those approaches cross my mind, but two considerations direct me to a sort of “high road.”
First, I can’t assume the driver was under the influence of alcohol or drugs. Nor would it be kind to assume he or she was deliberately engaged in some other obnoxious behavior. For all I know, there’s an innocent explanation, such as a medical seizure.
Second, what if my efforts somehow come to light? If I am ever hauled in front of authorities on whatever high crimes and misdemeanors that I am committing, my language should at least be beyond reproach.
That’s why I refrain from phrases like “Hey, you are SUCH a horrible menace behind the wheel!!! What in the world is wrong with you?”
Instead, along with a just-the-facts synopsis of what I observed, I adopt a tone of earnest concern.
Unfortunately, I no longer have a record of that inaugural Motorists for a Better America letter to the person swerving all over the Northwest Tollway. But I do have a subsequent missive, patterned after that initial template. It is pictured immediately below; its transcription, for ease of review, is underneath the photo.
Dear Sir or Madam:
The driver of a car registered in your name, bearing the above listed license plate, was observed driving recklessly west on the Eisenhower Expressway, near Mannheim Road, about 1:30 p.m. on Thursday, December 8.
The driver’s actions included two instances of veering onto the right shoulder of the highway and passing cars at speeds estimated to be about 70-80 mph. Not only did the driver violate numerous vehicular laws, but she endangered the safety of other motorists.
We bring this matter to your attention because Motorists for a Better America is committed to improving road safety and reducing the number of fatalities and injuries that occur each day on our highways and byways. We urge you to join us in our endeavor, particularly during this holiday season. And don’t forget to buckle up—it saves lives!
Sincerely,
James C. Brohamer5
Executive Vice President
More Letters, a New HQ, The End
Over the course of roughly one year, I craft something like six letters along these lines6. On those occasions when someone comes to MBA’s attention, I pass along the plate info to my department source, he provides the registration details, and I take it from there.
At one point, I add a wrinkle by changing the organization’s address to a non-existent P.O. Box in Boston. This geographic maneuver reinforces the national scope that I want to confer upon the “organization.”
Obviously, by this point I’d seen more than my share of movies, too.
To dress up this geographic head fake, I place the letter inside an envelope that I seal inside yet another, slightly larger envelope, which I dispatch to a close friend in the Boston ‘burbs. He then extracts the Motorists for a Better America letter from the larger envelope and drops it into a mailbox near him.
My pal is never entirely comfortable with being an accomplice in this clandestine operation. He goes along with it a few times, though he takes the additional Unabomber-esque precaution of wearing gloves so that his fingerprints don’t wind up on the letter. He, too, has seen more than his share of movies.
With each additional outreach by Motorists for a Better America, I am increasingly tempted to take my communication to the next step.
Why not follow up with letter recipients to find out what, if any, impact the letters had on correcting their driving behavior? But I would never do so without clearing it first with my source, and I never approach him about it.
Then, as quietly as it began, the whole enterprise comes to a halt when the police department must begin following a more stringent policy. The gist of it, as I recall: any time they look up a license plate, an official purpose must be noted in their internal records.
And “Motorists for a Better America request” was never going to fly.
The first public mention of Motorists for a Better America occurred on July 1st, smack dab in the middle of my 15-question Pop Quiz:
“In the 1990s, I created a tongue-in-cheek organization that sought to curb a certain type of bad behavior. What did I name it?”
I give four options, each reflecting a heartfelt desire to make the world a better place:
Citizens for Scooping Dog Poop
United for Polite Politics
Motorists for a Better America
Society of Faithful Lint Cleaners
It was a pretty good mix, with readers voting equally as often for United for Polite Politics, Motorists for a Better America and the Society of Faithful Lint Cleaners. Meantime, Citizens for Scooping Dog Poop garnered only one fewer vote.
Incidentally, I did create a one-page lint-removal note to neighbors at my old condo building. I cited a made-up group known as the Lint Removal Action Council with fantastical statistics on the urgency of being diligent lint tray cleaners.
In mid-June, I tracked down my source, who retired from the police force in the early 2000s. Though he gave me his permission to use his name, I prefer to keep that part (and the specific department) a mystery to protect the well-intentioned. He also reaffirmed his rationale for passing along the addresses to me.
“Whenever there is a serious accident, especially those that involve serious injuries or fatalities, it involves somebody going too fast or doing something really risky or dangerous,” he said. “If your letters made people think twice about doing something stupid again, then I think you achieved your goal.”
Pretty cool name, I think.
“MotoristsForABetterAmerica” is available as a potential URL, whether your tastes run toward .com, .info, or dot-whatever. According to GoDaddy.com, “`Motorists’ and `Better’ are high value keywords, with an average sale price of $2,788.00 and $2,056.00. `America’ and `Better’ are widely used keywords.”
I’m being facetious. What I did wasn’t super-heroic. It was therapeutic for me and, I hope, served a positive social function to the recipients of MBA’s correspondence.
That name, John C. Brohamer, is inspired by former Major League Baseball infielder Jack Brohamer, whom I watched playing for the Chicago White Sox and Boston Red Sox in the late 1970s.
For the record, Brohamer’s full name is John Anthony Brohamer, so his first name and middle initial diverged from those of my made-up character.
Keep in mind this is before the Internet has any significant presence. Today, a few keystrokes in a search engine can go a long way toward confirming or refuting whether such an org exists.
My first thought is that this group with a likely specialty in road rage felt a good deal of letter rage upon reading their missive. There could have been some religious converts, though -- more, certainly, if the sender had been labeled God. The recipients must have been amazed. Have looked cautiously around every corner for a few days. But I'm forgetting that these were jerks. In any event, certainly a self-empowering prank worth doing and recounting!