Advertisement

A Rolling Hazard in a Golfing Paradise

Share
Times Staff Writer

Drinking and driving pose something of a headache in a city where 1 in 4 residents owns a golf cart.

Just 10 days ago, police made front-page news in Peachtree City when they arrested the city manager as he drove his golf cart with a glass of wine in his hand.

It was not the first high-profile case involving drinking and golf carts in this quiet, orderly community 25 miles south of Atlanta. In 2004, a blind man drove a golf cart for two miles -- following the directions of the cart’s owner, who had had six or seven beers -- until he ran into a parked car; both men were charged with reckless conduct.

Advertisement

But the city manager’s arrest has sparked a contentious debate here about how to regulate a vehicle with a maximum speed of 20 mph. Some of the city’s 36,000 residents worry that golf carts are being driven recklessly. Others complain that officers have become more than diligent in their patrols.

“Next, they’ll start arresting people on their lawn mowers,” a resident wrote in an online discussion run by the Fayette Citizen newspaper.

More than 90 miles of golf cart paths weave through Peachtree City’s manicured cul-de-sacs, golf courses and around man-made lakes. In the late 1950s, when developers planned the golfing city, home buyers requested paths that would link their homes to the golf course. Golf carts became such a feature of the community that the city now requires developers to connect subdivisions to paths.

As the city widens its asphalt paths to accommodate the growing number of electric vehicles, the police department has reported a jump in golf cart crimes. In 2005, there were 16 drunken-driving cases, 41 thefts and 182 citations involving golf carts -- more than double the amount five years ago.

No one denies that the city manager breached the city’s golf cart rules as he drove off after a concert by the Temptations at a local amphitheater. According to police reports, Bernard McMullen had bloodshot eyes and slurred speech and blew a 0.104% on a portable alcohol sensor. Under Georgia law, drivers are legally intoxicated at 0.08%.

Officers charged McMullen with driving under the influence, possession of an open container of alcohol and possession of alcohol in a park.

Advertisement

Mary Beckham, 64, a retiree who stood in the City Hall reception area last week to pay her golf cart registration fee, had no sympathy.

“He should have known better,” she said. “Everyone knows you don’t drink and drive a golf cart.”

Beckham, who has not had an encounter with a drunken golf cart driver, said her main complaints were speeding, hogging the path, overcrowded carts, driving on the street instead of the path and not blowing the horn before entering tunnels.

Before leaving City Hall, she advised the receptionist that the registration tags should be placed on the front and back rather than the sides of the carts. Too often, she said, offending drivers whizzed by before she could take note of their numbers.

It was not until 1993 that Peachtree City required its golf carts to have registration tags. Gradually, the city has introduced more rules: Drivers may not race their carts or loiter on bridges or underpasses; they must equip their vehicles with headlights and taillights and use a horn when approaching a pedestrian from behind.

Sitting on a bench overlooking the clear, still water of Lake Kedron, Mike Gribble, 61, almost choked on his Wendy’s hamburger at the mention of Peachtree City police.

Advertisement

“Police?” he said. “It’s a military operation we have here. They are very, very aggressive.”

During the middle of a tournament last year, Steve Hudjera, 50, a member of the Flat Creek Golf Club, watched police officers issue a citation to a player in front of him as he crossed a public road with a can of beer in his golf cart’s cup holder.

Though Hudjera does not condone the city manager’s behavior, he contends that it is unacceptable for police to issue citations during golf games.

“When you’re on the ninth hole,” he said, “you have two hours to sober up.”

Certainly, Peachtree City police have an unusual challenge in patrolling a city of 9,000 golf cart users.

“We basically have a whole other city to police,” said Maj. R.M. Dupree of Peachtree City Police, adding that his department, which has 57 sworn officers, does not have enough to patrol the network of leafy trails.

It is not uncommon, Dupree said, for residents to indecently expose themselves or transport small amounts of marijuana on their golf carts.

Advertisement

Officers patrolling the paths on in-line skates and mountain bikes have apprehended a variety of suspects. In 2002, a man was sentenced to 40 years in prison for luring children onto his golf cart with the intent of molesting them.

In December, four 15-year-olds were jailed on suspicion of conspiring to rob another teenager at gunpoint on a golf cart. The gunman was charged with armed robbery, battery and possession of marijuana.

Police say teenagers are responsible for the largest number of golf cart violations. Now 15-year-olds can drive with a learner’s permit, and 12- to 14-year-olds can drive with a licensed adult.

When Tim Armstrong, 25, a firefighter, moved to Peachtree City in the ninth grade, he said he was shocked to find that most of his classmates were on probation for golf cart crimes. He was never cited, he said, although he was pulled over at least 20 times.

“The police don’t seem to have anything better to do,” he said.

But Armstrong said he was glad McMullen had been arrested. Although he does not view drinking and driving on golf carts to be a serious problem, he said it was not something residents expected of a city official.

Peachtree City’s mayor, Harold Logsdon, said the recent case was clear-cut.

“Most people,” he said, “know to have a designated driver when they drink.”

Yet when Logsdon plays golf, he admits, he puts his beer in his golf cart’s cup holder as he crosses Flat Creek Road after the ninth hole. Technically, this means he is crossing a public road with an open container.

Advertisement

“But,” he said, with a sheepish shrug, “I’ve never been picked up by police.”

Advertisement