Opinion

One February afternoon about 5 years ago (I was a teacher in the DFW area), I was headed home at the end of the school day. After turning from the parking lot onto a highway that dips into a depression then rises back up again over a distance of about a quarter mile, I was the only vehicle in sight until I started the climb. As I was going up, a minivan with its headlights on appeared in the opposite lane, followed by a vehicle about two car-lengths behind, and passed me horn blaring. I wondered why, and when I looked in the rear-view mirror, I saw the driver flipping me off! When I could see beyond the rise, I realized the minivan must have been the first vehicle in the funeral procession that was passing me. I noticed one other car in the distance had pulled over, so, out of courtesy (rather than conviction), I pulled over, just as a motorcycle escort whizzed past to get back to the front of the line before the next intersection.