"You can't deny me the right to go in there," I responded, indignantly. "I am a productive, tax-paying citizen. I've earned this recreational time and you cannot stop me." "Sorry, buddy," he replied. "You know how it is, fire codes and all. It's just too dangerous to put too many people in one small place."

I looked the bouncer over. He was a clean-cut, jarhead type and probably hated longhairs like me. As he was much bigger than I was, I decided to take my complaint to that nice lawyer at the ACLU. But then I realized the lawyer would probably just laugh at me.

We agree to a lot of things in this society to ensure the safety of everyone. We stop at traffic lights and stop signs, even when we're in a hurry and can see no oncoming traffic. We pay to have our garbage disposed of properly, rather than tossing, burning or burying it in the back yard. And, yes, we wait in line at bars and restaurants when they are filled to their capacity.

Black College Reunion, regardless of the color of skin of its attendees, is the only event that fills Daytona Beach's beachside section to its maximum occupancy level. The reason for this is that the focus of the party is being in a car cruising down A1A. When left unchecked, the sheer volume of cars on the strip clogs the main arteries to the point that emergency vehicles cannot get through.

Think of Daytona's beachside as a large room with, at most, seven doors. These doors are the six bridges to the mainland and A1A heading north toward Flagler County. All other side streets lead to either the river or the ocean. Before the entryways get so crowded that medical personnel cannot get to somebody dying in the room, you've got to put bouncers at the doors.

This was made very clear to me as I spent a full hour, from 2:30 to 3:30 a.m., on the Oakridge bridge the Saturday morning of the last BCR. A large part of that hour was spent in trying to make room for a police cruiser, lights flashing, that was attempting to make it over to a fender bender on the other side. Luckily this was a minor affair, and wasn't blocking much traffic. The cars ahead of the wreck were moving no faster than were those behind it. Luckily there had been no serious injury, as an ambulance couldn't have made it through any faster.

The problem here isn't too many people; it's too many cars. This was adequately addressed in the latest traffic plan, shot down in a necessarily quick decision by a federal judge, which allowed for city-funded transportation for anyone wishing to get to the party from the mainland. Anyone staying in a beachside hotel would have been given a pass to drive beachside, as would anyone who lived beachside or did business there. Those without passes would be allowed beachside at all times except when the amount of traffic was at the maximum safe level.

There are, as is generally the case, two opposing camps in this debate. On one side is an unusual pairing of factions: Those who attend BCR, but stay away from the beach during the rest of the year, and those who stop by the beach throughout the year, but avoid it during BCR. They are united in an opinion that the policy is racism-oriented, based mainly on their misperception that there is no difference between the traffic of BCR and of other large annual events. That misperception is born of the fact that none of them have seen the traffic of both BCR and these other events.

On the other side are those of us who live beachside, as well as those who work here, who have experienced firsthand all of these situations. It is up to us to make the rest of you understand. So let me try to explain how the traffic patterns differ.

Speed Weeks: The traffic on A1A is negligible during speed weeks. The main traffic problem is on International Speedway Boulevard. This is an entirely different scenario, as far as emergency vehicles are concerned. On beachside, most side streets lead either to the ocean or the river. On West ISB every side street is an exit. So, while it's a pain for those headed to the racetrack, most locals, and all emergency personnel, have learned to circumvent the traffic by using parallel streets and avoiding the problem areas. This isn't possible for the beachside bound during BCR when all the bridges are blocked.

Bike Week (and Biketoberfest): Bike Week traffic has some interesting qualities. A large percentage of the traffic is, obviously, motorcycles, which have a remarkable ability to get out of the way of emergency vehicles. As Bike Week activities are spread throughout the area, there is rarely much of a slowdown on A1A, except in a small section around Main Street. A1A is not considered prime cruising ground for bikers, who usually opt for less urban areas when taking to the road. Most Bike Week attendees on A1A are looking for a place to park so they can patronize the establishments on Main Street. Ask the churches near Main how much money they make selling parking spots during Bike Week. Then ask how much they make during BCR.

Traffic on Main Street (a short, east-west street) is definitely heavy, but not impenetrable. It is also accessible from both north and south, making emergencies less difficult to manage. One in BCR's favor, though: Bike Week, at least in my opinion, is louder.

Spring Break: Next to BCR, Spring Break causes the most severe slowdowns on A1A. But they are not in the same league. When Spring Breakers are in the mood to cruise, they cruise the beach. A1A is used as a secondary road, to get to the beach by day and the clubs by night.

The traffic flow on the beach during the height of Spring Break is very similar to the traffic flow on A1A during BCR. There are two reasons that this isn't as much of a safety concern. First, while blocking A1A means isolating a long line of hotels and condominiums, blocking the beach only barricades the ocean. Second, while much of the beach is driveable, traffic is restricted to a narrow area. The beach patrol has the run of the forbidden areas, and always has vehicles in the traffic line and on either side of it to take care of beach emergencies.

BCR: I have already mentioned that I have experienced, firsthand, the inability of emergency vehicles to penetrate the traffic of BCR. I have never experienced traffic nearly that heavy, even on A1A, at any other time of year. It is purely the nature of the party, the desire to drive down the main strip, which packs the roadways with more cars than they can handle and creates a safety nightmare. There's nothing wrong with this kind of party, as long as the drivers are sober and obey the traffic laws. But the city needs the power to limit the amount of traffic to a safe level.

As I have mentioned before, I live on beachside. I am still young enough to have complete faith that I will make it through the BCR weekend without needing an ambulance, but there are many older people in beachfront condominiums in danger of being shut off from medical services. This is Florida, after all.

There's a liability issue, too. Say a large beachside hotel burns down because the DBFD couldn't get a fire truck there in time. The hotel's owners, as well as the families of those killed or injured in the disaster, would sue the city. We can always blame it on the courts, I guess, and say, "Well, we tried to protect the victims, but a judge shot us down."

What disturbs me is that the city just gave up on their traffic plan to avoid further NAACP litigation. Perhaps "We tried, but…" will now become their official, head in the sand position. I hope not.

If you still think the traffic plan was racist, consider this: Instead of 100,000 reunioners stuck in their cars in the gridlock of traffic on A1A, they would be free to explore the streets and neighborhoods of Daytona's beachside at their will, so long as they could make it back to their bus stop on time. That doesn't sound to me like a policy a racist community would wish upon itself.