When a person experiences a miracle in a particular place, the place develops into a special one in that person's mind. Passing through said place would cause the individual to relive the miracle, to say "baruch she'asa li neis bamakom hazeh."
Conversely, an awful event that happens to a person a specific place would cause that person to develop a measure of dread for that place. They might avoid it altogether, to avoid reliving the trauma they experienced.
I'm not sure if you'd call a ticket an extremely traumatic event, but I know that every place I've ever been pulled over remains firmly ingrained in my mind.
My first ticket was on the New York State Thruway, and it's trauma was heavily multiplied by the fact that six months had not yet passed since I had received my license.
Now, I don't know what the law is in other states and countries, but New York State law dictates that a newly licensed driver is on probation for the first six months. During those six months, any moving violation, most notably a speeding ticket, is cause for suspension of the license. You can surely imagine then, why I was so freaked out.
Miraculously, my license wasn't suspended, and I went on to get a number of other tickets. There was the one in the back streets of yehupitsville, the one on the corner a block away from where I work, the one on my secret shortcut to the end of the universe, the one on the street I now avoid, and of course, the one on the street I can't possibly avoid.
And while I always have pity for people whom I see stopped by police, (unless, of course, the person who is stopped had just cut me off) nothing draws more pity than the sight of someone getting a ticket in one of the spots where I got mine.
And that's what brought all of this to mind. Just yesterday, I was taking my secret shortcut to the end of the universe, when I saw someone pulled over by the police. It couldn't have been more than ten feet from where I was pulled over. And so, a I stretched my neck to catch a last glimpse of the poor fella, I realized that we now have something in common. Both of us hate the same stretch of road.
Someone should start a support group.