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Wadsack’s SpeederGate Scandal Strips Her of Crucial Police Backing
State Senator Justine Wadsack’s recent run-in with the law, dubbed “SpeederGate,” has sparked a maelstrom of controversy and public scrutiny.
The Arizona Fraternal Order of Police recently withdrew its endorsement of Wadsack after her arrest for excessive speeding and subsequent claims of “political persecution.” Wadsack was informed that she would indeed face a citation after her vehicle, a red 2015 Model S 85, was clocked traveling over the speed limit in Tucson on March 15. The situation escalated as the state senator portrayed herself as a victim of political targeting.
She resides in Dove Mountain and the Sam Hughes neighborhood and reportedly owns multiple gas-powered vehicles. Despite not receiving the ticket immediately due to legislative immunity, the Tucson Police Department (TPD) later reviewed the case, deciding to cite her.
Related: Sen. Justine Wadsack claims ‘political persecution’ over Tucson criminal speeding ticket
As reported by the Tucson Sentinel, Wadsack was pulled over for driving 71 mph in a 35 mph zone. This offense classifies as a class 3 misdemeanor, potentially carrying a 30-day jail sentence, though a fine and probation seemed more likely. Her explanation for speeding centered on being low on her vehicle’s battery charge, creating a narrative that has since faced intense public ridicule.
Controversy arose around why an ardent MAGA supporter like Wadsack drove an electric vehicle. Critics jumped on inconsistencies in her story, noting her voting registration address in Dove Mountain didn’t align with the circumstances of her stop near Speedway and Campbell. Furthermore, her claims about battery drain raised eyebrows among technology-savvy constituents.
According to the Arizona Constitution, lawmakers are shielded from arrest during the legislative session unless for specific serious crimes, explaining the delayed citation. However, when TPD eventually called her in late June to sign the ticket, she claimed political victimization.
Wadsack’s public accusations against the police and their alleged political motivations did not sit well with the Arizona Fraternal Order of Police. Paul Sheldon, the FOP president, stated, “While Sen. Wadsack has been a consistent supporter of public safety in her official capacity, this incident and her decision to publicly impugn the motives of police personnel is conduct unbecoming an elected representative.”
Former Pima County Sheriff Mark Napier echoed similar sentiments, insisting that Wadsack’s drama transformed a minor incident into a major debacle. Napier emphasized that the judicial system—not social media—is the proper venue for her defense.
Also weighing in, City Attorney Mike Rankin highlighted the distinction between “persecution” and “prosecution,” emphasizing that enforcing traffic laws is not about targeting individuals’ beliefs but ensuring public safety.
Wadsack’s reaction upset not only law enforcement but also her political allies. In a social media post, she insisted she wasn’t above the law while simultaneously alleging a political conspiracy against her. She invited scrutiny of her Tesla app data to assert her innocence.
Addressing her electric vehicle choice, Wadsack attempted to downplay her use of a Tesla by emphasizing her ownership of three gasoline-powered cars. She noted the lack of charging infrastructure as a significant issue, mentioning “range anxiety” as her reason for speeding that night.
This incident places Wadsack in a broader political context as a symbol of a new wave of Republicans who view themselves as victims of a societal and governmental conspiracy. This notion clashes sharply with traditional views on accountability and legal equality.
The saga continues to evolve as local media and various stakeholders weigh in on Wadsack’s actions and the implications for political conduct and public trust in law enforcement.