Herb Weiss lives in Pawtucket.
While Antonia Noori Farzan’s article “A lot on our plates” (Political Scene, News, Nov. 27) professes that only politically well-connected insiders and supporters were given low-digit plates, that was not true in my case. I received my 9068 four-digit license plate by winning a state lottery. It was lady luck that brought that coveted status symbol license plate to me.
When relocating to Rhode Island in 1993 from Gaithersburg, Maryland, I became aware of many of the geographically-specific quirks in the nation’s smallest state. I quickly became aware of the state’s favorite drinks, like Del’s Lemonade, Awful Awful shakes, and even coffee milk. I became aware of Rhode Island-specific vocabulary, too. But I found it fascinating that many Rhode Islanders liked to showcase their vehicles by showcasing a low-digit license plate.
As mentioned in Farzan’s article, handing out the widely sought-after low-number license plates used to be one of the political spoils of the Rhode Island governor’s office — you could get it if you knew somebody who knew somebody, who knew somebody, or they could be handed down from generation to generation. According to a Sept. 18, 2005, article, “It’s a Numbers Game,” published in the Washington Post: “In 1995, Rhode Island began using a lottery system to eliminate patronage, after then-Gov. Bruce Sundlun (D) commandeered plate number 9 and gave it to his wife.”
Other Rhode Island governors would follow this unique tradition of holding a license plate lottery. Quite candidly, it was the luck of the draw. All you had to do was send in a postcard requesting to participate. If your card was drawn from the big drum during the two drawings scheduled each year, bingo, you had your low-digit license plate.
After relocating to Rhode Island, I quickly became aware of this state lottery. I wanted to submit a card, but I just never got around to going to the State House to do so. As the Oct. 28, 2003, drawing approached, I it was time to participate and I finally submitted my postcard. I even passed postcards around to my co-workers, getting five or six of them to enter, too.
As I drove to the State House to turn in the postcards, I thought I was just tempting fate and testing my luck to walk away that day with the coveted low-digit plate. As I saw later in the Pawtucket Times article announcing the winners, I learned that my new low-digit plate would be 9068. Gov. Donald Carcieri pulled my card from a clear drum containing hundreds of postscards submitted by Rhode Islanders from communities across the state.
Since my win over 21 years ago, the plate 9068 has adorned the five Volvos I have owned over those years.
Looking back, my plate was not due to political connections or being a supporter of a governor, it was just luck. So, if future governors resume holding a license plate lottery, go with the flow and your gut feelings.
