David Brunson v. City of Coweta

Let’s get one thing straight: nobody expects their morning commute to turn into a high-stakes game of “Who’s That Behind the Wheel of a Municipal Garbage Truck?” But for David Brunson, that’s exactly what happened—except the trash truck didn’t just honk. It plowed into the back of his car at full speed while he was stopped, allegedly because the driver was distracted, speeding, and too busy not paying attention to notice that, oh, the entire lane ahead of him had come to a standstill for a dog. Yes, a dog. Not a fog bank. Not black ice. A literal dog in the road. And yet, the City of Coweta’s finest refuse collector allegedly failed to see any of it coming. Now, Brunson is suing for $75,000, and we’re here for the dumpster fire.

David Brunson is just your average Oklahoma commuter—probably sipping lukewarm coffee, maybe humming along to classic rock, minding his own business on I-244 near State Highway 11. He’s not a thrill-seeker. He’s not trying to break any land speed records. He’s just trying to get from point A to point B without becoming roadkill. On April 9, 2024, he found himself in the left lane when traffic suddenly stopped. Why? Because a dog had wandered onto the highway like it was auditioning for Homeward Bound 3. Understandably, the car in front of Brunson slammed on the brakes. Brunson, being a responsible driver with functioning eyes and reflexes, did the same. He came to a complete stop. So far, so normal.

Then came Harold Honeycutt.

Honeycutt, an employee of the City of Coweta, was behind the wheel of a city-owned trash truck—essentially a slow-moving steel fortress designed to crush things, not to be driven like a NASCAR stock car. But according to Brunson’s petition, that’s exactly how Honeycutt was operating it. The filing claims he was speeding, distracted, and failing to keep a proper lookout. In other words, he was doing approximately zero of the things you’re supposed to do when piloting a multi-ton vehicle on a busy interstate. Instead of slowing down or changing lanes, Honeycutt allegedly just… kept going. And going. And going—right into the back of Brunson’s stationary vehicle.

Boom. Rear-end collision. The kind of crash that makes you wonder if the driver even saw the brake lights. The kind that makes you whisper, “Did he fall asleep? Was he texting? Was he chasing the same dog?” We don’t know what Honeycutt was doing, but we do know this: he didn’t stop in time. And now, David Brunson says he’s dealing with serious injuries, medical bills, pain, suffering, and lost income—all because a city employee allegedly treated a highway like a personal demolition derby.

So why is the City of Coweta in the crosshairs, and not just Harold Honeycutt? That’s where the legal drama kicks in. Brunson isn’t just suing the guy who crashed into him—he’s going after the city, and he’s doing it with a legal triple threat: negligence, negligence per se, and negligent entrustment. Let’s break that down like we’re explaining it to someone who just got rear-ended by a trash truck.

First up: negligence. This is the bread and butter of personal injury lawsuits. The idea is simple: you have a duty to drive safely. You failed that duty. Your failure caused someone harm. You owe them money. In this case, Brunson argues that Honeycutt had a duty to drive with “ordinary care,” which apparently includes basic tasks like seeing the cars in front of you and not accelerating toward them at highway speeds. By failing to do so, Honeycutt breached that duty, caused the crash, and injured Brunson. And because Honeycutt was working for the city at the time, the city is on the hook under Oklahoma’s Governmental Tort Claims Act.

Then comes the spicy one: negligence per se. This is like regular negligence, but with extra legal flavor. Instead of just saying “you were careless,” it says “you broke the law, dummy.” Brunson’s filing claims Honeycutt violated three separate city ordinances: one for speeding under the conditions, one for driving distracted (we’re looking at you, phone scrollers), and one for following too closely. These aren’t just suggestions—they’re rules designed to keep people safe. And when you break them and cause an accident, the law says, “Yeah, that’s automatically negligence.” So now the city isn’t just defending a bad driver—it’s defending a law-breaking driver.

But wait—there’s more. The third claim, negligent entrustment, is where things get juicy. This one doesn’t just blame the driver. It blames the boss. The argument here is that the City of Coweta knew or should have known that Harold Honeycutt wasn’t fit to operate a massive vehicle on public roads. Maybe he had a history of accidents. Maybe he failed training. Maybe he once tried to pick up a recycling bin with his face. We don’t know the details—yet—but the implication is clear: the city handed the keys to someone who shouldn’t have had them. And now, they’re being held responsible for that decision.

So what does Brunson want? A cool $75,000—and possibly more. Is that a lot? Well, for a fender bender, maybe. But this wasn’t a fender bender. This was a high-speed rear-end collision involving a trash truck. Medical bills add up fast. So does lost wages if you can’t work. And let’s not forget the pain and suffering—both physical and emotional—of getting blindsided by a vehicle that weighs more than your house. In the world of personal injury, $75,000 isn’t outrageous. It’s not King of the Hill money. But it’s enough to make the city think twice before sending another distracted employee down the highway in a rolling landfill.

Now, here’s our take: the most absurd part of this whole mess isn’t even the crash. It’s the context. A dog in the road? That’s a universal pause button. That’s the kind of thing that makes everyone slow down. Even we would stop for a dog. And yet, somehow, a city employee operating a government vehicle—paid with taxpayer dollars—managed to miss all of it. Not just the dog. Not just the stopped cars. Not just the sea of red brake lights. But the basic concept of driving defensively. And now, the city might have to pay for it—not just because of what the driver did, but because they let him do it.

Are we rooting for Brunson? Absolutely. Not because we love lawsuits, but because we love accountability. If the city handed the keys to someone reckless, they need to answer for it. If Honeycutt was speeding and distracted, he should’ve been pulled over before he became a human cannonball. This isn’t just about $75,000. It’s about making sure the next person stopped on the highway doesn’t become the next victim of a municipal miss.

So here’s to David Brunson—just a guy who wanted to avoid hitting a dog, only to get hit by a trash truck. May justice be served. And may all future city drivers keep their eyes on the road, not on their phones, their lunch, or whatever else was so much more important than not crushing another human being.

We’re entertainers, not lawyers. But even we know this: when a dog stops traffic, you stop too. Even if you drive a truck that says “Coweta Waste Management” on the side. Especially then.