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For Wendy, losing the plate felt like losing a small but significant piece of her personal narrative. The plate had been on her vehicle through school drop-offs, family vacations, and the quiet routines of daily life. It had connected her to countless strangers through a shared laugh, a brief moment of levity in the often-stressful environment of traffic and commutes. This connection, she believed, was a net positive for society. In a world that often feels increasingly polarized and tense, a license plate that reminds us of our shared humanity—and our shared parental struggles—seemed like something to be protected, not purged.
The situation eventually escalated to the highest levels of state government. Even Governor Chris Sununu weighed in, suggesting that the DMV might have been a bit too “stopped up” in their interpretation of the rules. The Governor’s intervention signaled a shift in the momentum, highlighting that common sense should play a role in the application of administrative code. The public outcry and the subsequent political pressure forced a re-evaluation of the case, turning Wendy Auger from a frustrated driver into an accidental advocate for freedom of expression.
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