THE PEDESTRIAN

Evening Post, Volume CXIII, Issue 60, 12 March 1927, Page 10

THE PEDESTRIAN

HIS LOST HERITAGE

ABUSE OF THE MOTOR

MONOPOLY OF STREETS

(By a Motorist.)

The right of the pedestrian to make use of our streets seems likely to be definitely challenged by the motorist befoTe long. From time to time voices are raised protesting that the pedestrian should confine himself to the pavement and cross streets only at intersections or other approved places. A friend of! mine, such a one, picked me up the other day with the intention of motoring me to his home. He has a strong predilection for rules and regulations,* and is never so happy as when propounding one. It was, therefore, a matter of no surprise to me when, after being called upon to use his brakes several times in Lambton quay, he opened out into a tirade against the pedestrians, and said they should be prohibited from crossing the street as they liked. The City Council, he declared, should mark out crossing places and bring down a bylaw to enforce the use of them.

It so happened fehat nearing the Government Buildings end of the Quay he ran out of petrol. I was then treated to one of those amusing episodes frequently seen. He had a spare can on the side of his ear. Opening the driver's door, he got out into the traffic and stepped back. A motor swerved sharply to avoid him, astonishing a youth near by and causing an open tourer in the rear to take emergency action. My friend, who seemed oblivious to all but his own manoeuvres, had stopped about six feet from the kerb. I suggested moving closer, but he merely glanced around, remarked that we were all right, and proceeded to pour petrol into the tank.

Remembering that he had a parcel to collect in Courtenay place, we turned back. Crossing the tram rails, he drove a cyclist into more correct position and proceeded up the Quay. In view of his animadversion upon the pedestrian, and his own recent performance,.! interested myself in results.

Once he ran three abreast, passing two cars that were travelling slowly. It was quite a natural thing to do on a wide street, and would ordinarily have passed unnoticed. I observed, however, that the advance in line considerably alarmed a pedestrian, who skipped for safety, and bore a ludicrous appearance of being ready to skip again. THE TRAMCAE BYLAW. At the bank corner we were held up by a tram. My friend pulled up with the nose of his car level with the rear platform. I glanced at the conductor's face, expecting a .frown, but its placid expression assured me that everything was in order. My friend had endangered no one and had stopped. I remarked at this stage that it might have been better to have tak-en the route at the back. My friend agreed, but said he had not thought of it. He could quite easily have gone round by Jervois quay. However, we could turn through at Mercer street and still avoid the congested area of Manners street. This we did. My friend, however, had difficulty getting into Mercer street, the stream of pedestrians opening with reluctance. He waxed "hot" upon the point. They were always inconsiderate, he declared. I agreed, though not persuaded that the fault was always all on one side.

We continued by way of Wakefield street to Cuba street. I had expected to cross this, but to my surprise my friend turned up, contributing quite needlessly, I thought, to the traffic jam of a busy hour at tho next corner.

Our destination, which was well towards tho end of Courtenay place, we reached without further incident.

My friend got out, and after dumping a parcel into the back of tho car, set off on foot across the street on a long slant. Boys were crying the evening paper. I watched him dodge two motors. Possessed of tho news, he returned as he had gone. I had a feeling that he was a quite typical pedestrian.

Wo took the back route to Lambton, practically clear going all the way. Lambton, however, again brought up the subject of the pedestrian, and my friend rode his hobby nearly all the way homo. Approaching his gate, wo took a diagonal across the street and got out, leaving the car facing the wrong way. Our meal was an enjoyable oue, as conversation, was general. Over a smoke, however, my friend returned to motoring matters. This led his wife to remark that she thought her husband a splendid driver. He never speeded and sho always felt perfectly safe with him. I agreed. I, too, had felt perfectly safe. I said ho was a good driver and inwardly acknowledged that, as drivers go, ho certainly was as good as the average; RIGHTS OF THE PEOPLE. But my thoughts went wandering. I recalled the breaches of bylaws committed by my friend, and the want of consideration he had shown, and soon was debating within myself the futility of regulations. I pictured the city ruled off in crossings, with crowds gathering at every corner, motors speeding: and trams blocking the way. A horde of policemen and special officers came into view, and I felt that at any rate the problem of immigration and the unemployed had been definitely solved. The police, however, .were no better than the rest, for only a night or two before I had come face to face with two constables coming down Hill street on the wrong side of the footpath, and it was myself that had had to give way—that after years spent by the Department in a special campaign to get ordinary people to conform to a new rule. They' were practically invisible in the darkness, whereas I was wearing a linen dustcoat and was consciously conspicuous.

No, I thought, the people who want to rule us by bylaws and regulations have little knowledge of human nature or themselves. The}' are too apt to think of the petty problems of a New Zealand town in terms of London and New York. A once-familiar picture of my boyhood recurred vividly to my mind. Many people will remember it — "His Majesty The Baby." A policeman's hand is up, and the whole traffic of London seems to stand still, while a nurse and her charge pass slowly across one of its leading thoroughfares. It was a masterly stroke. The traffic of London is controlled for the people, not the people for the traffic of London. Long before the motor was dreamed of, horses and carts, teams, lorries, and buses had created a barrier that no one could penetrate. With the advent of the motor the situation eased, and even with the fast-moving and crowded traffic of to-day it is possible to cross streets, where twenty years ago delay and daring were entailed.

The motorist talks of putting the pedestrian underground. He is a pedestrian himself, as much as anyone else. Sit in your car and lord it as you will, the writing is already on the wall. Despite the new high level broadways beginning to appear in Chicago and New York, the days when utfcfl TtHwntta material nrifl ta.aglgw§d tp_

monopolise our open spaces are numbered. Liberty, fresh air and elbow room are the birthright and heritage of all. The pedestrian will not consent much longer to be crowded, jostled, and squeezed on narrow, blistering pavements, or be thrust into the earth, that a few may ride. He will demand a iair share of the available spacewider pavements and more freedom of action. The congestion on our roadways is not comparable with that on our footpaths, and it is the same all the world over.

are in a state of transition, and for the time being have lost our way There are faults on all sides, prejudice and the narrow confines of class interest. It must be borne in mind, however, that our cities were not designed for present-day traffic, and drastic alterations are -required. It is quite absurd, however, to suppose that these will be to the permanent disqualification of the pedestrian. He follows Nature's own method of transportation and is just one hundred per cent, of the community. His vision has been obscured by the rapid change of a brief span of years, but the phase is a passing oue and soon he will awaken to demand his just due. From time immemorial man has pursued his daily round, walking on his own feet in God's own sunshine, full of his thoughts his problems, and his dreams. His nature will not change. Where he has gone wrong is in permitting nine-tenths of his city street to be devoted to wheeled traffic, retaining only a fraction for himself. He was first pushed unceremoniously to the wall before footpaths were dreamed of. Then he raised himself out of the mud. It will not be long before he repossesses himself of the lost privileges which are his rightful heritage.»

He has allowed his streets to become littered with a mass of standing vehicles. Were a farmer to drive into the city, remove his horses from the trap • dropping the shafts in the gutter and leaving the vehicle to stand, there would be an immediate outcry from one end of the town to the other. Such an abuse would not bo tolerated for a moment. It would not have been tolerated forty years ago. Should a mother leave her pram beside the sidewalk the result would be the same But the motorist has quietly assumed a • privilege to which he has not a shadow of claim and bids fair to convert it into a right. The reason is simple The motor was first a luxury of the richer and more influential ranks of the community, and vehicles were few. The voice of protest was silent. The civic authorities are under not the slightest obligation to provide the motorist with parking places; very much the reverse In the old days every country town" had its livery and bait stables; every hotel its stalls and its yard. It was the same m the city. But because the motor had no horse it was left in- the street. If was. an object of curiosity, admxration, and interest, a focal point round which crowds would gather. So the abuse began, until £o-day it is making our cities little less than a nijjhtmare. The standing motor should be ordered oft. If private enterprise finds the prospect of housing cars unattractive, then the motorist should rise to the occasion himself. The only vehicles with any claim to consideration by the people are those which ply for public hire; the private and ordinary convenient vehicle has none