Ten months after that terrifying afternoon just before Thanksgiving, Megan Brown still feels tears welling in her eyes when she reflects on the absolute tragedy that could have easily unfolded. Her son, Mason Ott of Kansas City, North — who was 21 years old at the time and diagnosed with autism — was simply driving near his Northland apartment when a local police officer attempted to pull him over for an alleged speeding infraction.
Today, however, those lingering fears are balanced by a profound sense of pride. Brown is celebrating Missouri’s newly signed legislation, officially dubbed “Mason’s Law,” which was enacted in July in her son’s honor. The statute is specifically designed to help protect other drivers on the road who live with autism, special needs, or various communication disabilities. It is a piece of legislation that Brown, along with other advocates and families, fervently hopes will soon serve as a shining model for the rest of the nation.
“I mean, I was fearful he could have been shot,” Brown said, reflecting on the harrowing event that ultimately sparked the statewide legislative effort. The bill was sponsored by Republican Representative Chris Brown, who is no relation, representing Clay County. “I just remember all that week thinking — especially with Thanksgiving coming up that week — I remember thinking, ‘I could be without a kid.’”
Clocked at 42 mph in a 35 mph zone
Ott’s frightening encounter on the road was fraught with confusion and misunderstanding. Yet, it has now paved the way for a revolutionary system that will allow law enforcement agencies across Missouri to utilize vehicle license plates to immediately identify whether a driver has autism or other special needs. This crucial identification aims to prevent tragic misunderstandings by alerting officers that a motorist may experience difficulty comprehending or responding appropriately to standard police instructions during a traffic stop.
The incident itself unfolded around noon on the Monday before Thanksgiving, according to Brown. Her son, she explains, is diagnosed with autism, though he is generally high-functioning. He is an alumnus of Staley High School, where he successfully graduated in 2022. During his time there, Ott was a dedicated equipment manager for the school’s football team and actively participated in the student council.
Following his high school graduation, Ott continued his education by attending the University of Kansas’ specialized two-year Transition to Postsecondary Education, or TPE, program. The initiative is a dedicated certificate program tailored specifically for young adults with intellectual disabilities. During his time at the university, Ott acquired essential job skills and earned as many as 26 college credit hours, his mother proudly noted.
Today, Ott lives independently in his own apartment located in the Northland area. He maintains steady employment at a local supermarket situated along North Oak Trafficway. Having earned his driver’s license at the age of 18, he regularly commutes in his white 2014 Ford Escape.
According to the account provided to Brown by law enforcement officials, her son was driving alone in the Northland on that fateful afternoon, navigating Maplewoods Parkway as he passed underneath the overpass where Missouri Route 152 crosses overhead. A police cruiser was stationed nearby, and as an officer later explained to Brown, radar equipment clocked her son traveling at 42 miles per hour in a posted 35 miles per hour zone.
“I was surprised, because Mason — he’s a rule follower,” Brown said. “He’s very diligent.”
Gun drawn: ‘Stop! Stop! He has autism.’
When the police officer activated his flashing emergency lights, the situation took a complicated turn rooted in literal interpretation. Brown explained that she and her former husband had spent years instructing their son on what to do if he ever saw police lights behind him: he was taught to drive to a safe place to pull over.
A sheriff’s deputy later informed Brown that her son did initially pull over to the side of the road, prompting the officer to pull in directly behind him. In hindsight, Brown said she now recognizes the critical gap in their instructions. Because her son processes language and directives very literally, the family had inadvertently missed a crucial detail.
“We never said, ‘You need to stay there,’” she noted.
As the officer parked behind him, Ott simply pulled back out onto the roadway and continued away from the officer. Traveling at the speed limit of 35 miles per hour and carefully using his turn signal, he drove approximately 1.5 miles toward his own apartment complex.
“There was, like, no high-speed, nothing,” Brown emphasized.
Ott pulled his white Ford Escape into the parking lot of his apartment complex, stopping near the front office. As police body-camera footage would later clearly demonstrate, the officer exited his cruiser and immediately drew his service sidearm.
“He has his gun drawn, going toward the car, ‘Get out with your hands up!’” Brown recounted. “Mason freezes, like he just freezes and doesn’t do anything. So then the employees of the apartment complex run out. They’re like, ‘Stop! Stop! He has autism.’ The police officer responded, ‘Get back, get back,’ not knowing what was going on. Finally, it somehow got de-escalated.”
Ultimately, the police officer, accompanied by Ott and the observant apartment complex employees, walked into the leasing office. There, they placed a phone call to notify Brown of the situation.
‘I just started bawling’
At the time of the incident, Brown was at work in Lawrence, Kansas. She initially received a phone call informing her that her son had been pulled over by police, though the gravity of the encounter was not immediately clear. Confused and concerned, Brown called her former husband, Ott’s father, who lived much closer to the scene. Within a short time, Ott’s father called her back with the terrifying news that the officer had drawn his firearm on their son.
“I fell,” Brown said, recalling the sheer shock. “There were some stairs there, and I just fell. I was burying my head in this towel and I just started bawling.”
Over the days, weeks, and months that followed, Brown relentlessly pursued answers. She requested and eventually received the police body-camera footage documenting the stop. As she processed the trauma of the event, she began speaking with friends, including other parents who raised children with autism. Together, they discussed the profound, underlying risks faced by neurodivergent children and adults who might find themselves unable to properly or quickly comply with complex law enforcement commands during standard traffic stops.
‘We have to do something’
One of those parents was Lauren Ray of Kansas City, whose 17-year-old son, Sam, also has autism. Although Sam does not yet drive, he may choose to do so in the future.
“She wanted to share with me Mason’s story,” Ray said, “because she was worried that Sam would have reacted the same way, which I truly believe he would have. I mean, you always have that fear, as a parent, of how your child will react, whether they’re typical or atypical. But this situation never even crossed my mind. That’s why when Megan shared it, I was like, ‘We have to do something.’”
And they did. Ray immediately reached out to her state representative, Chris Brown, whom she had known for many years.
“Chris knows I have a son with autism, so he knew it was near and dear to me,” Ray said. “And he knew of Mason.”
Before serving in the Missouri House of Representatives, Brown had worked as a teacher at Oak Park High School. “He was my history teacher,” Ray added.
When Ray explained Ott’s frightening encounter to the lawmaker, the inadequacy of standard informal advice became glaringly obvious. While local police had previously suggested that Megan Brown advise her son to turn on his flashing hazard lights during any future traffic stops to signal compliance, that simple measure fell far short of addressing the root safety concern.
Through her own independent research, Megan Brown discovered that the state of Texas offered “autism awareness” specialty license plates. Furthermore, Texas allowed drivers who were hearing-impaired or living with communication disabilities to register their vehicles in a manner that immediately alerted law enforcement to those specific conditions when running a license plate through computer databases.
A new system
With the Missouri Legislature currently in its December recess when the idea was first raised, Representative Brown made a firm promise that he would champion the issue as soon as lawmakers returned to session in January. He kept that promise.
In March, both Megan Brown and Lauren Ray traveled to the state capitol to testify in robust support of a new system. The legislation was crafted to allow not just drivers with autism, but any individual living with special needs or a qualifying disability, to register their vehicle directly through the Missouri Department of Revenue.
Under the provisions of the new law, an applicant must submit official certification from a licensed physician confirming that the “applicant or the applicant’s child, parent or spouse has a physical or mental health condition that is likely to impair the ability to effectively communicate with law enforcement.”
Additionally, the certifying physician must confirm that the individual’s communication impairment is expected to persist for a minimum of five years. While the digital infrastructure for the system is not yet fully operational, state officials expect the program to be completely up and running by early 2027.
Once implemented, law enforcement officers utilizing their in-car dashboard computers or the Missouri Unified Law Enforcement, or MULE, system will be able to run a vehicle’s license plate and instantly know in advance whether the registered driver experiences communication challenges.
“I also have a niece and nephew who are not driving yet but are hearing-impaired and have cochlear implants,” Ray noted. “So when I testified, I brought up those examples as well, because should their batteries go out or become broken, or they lose their cochlear implants — if a police officer was pulling them over, they’re not going to hear. I mean, it’s all aspects. If there’s a medical diagnosis — from a mental disability to a physical disability, or even PTSD — if you have a medical diagnosis that would hinder how you would respond in an emergency situation, it’s just — it’s a win-win for law enforcement and for the individual.”
‘We can do better’
Representative Brown shares a remarkably similar perspective on the organic nature of the legislative win.
“I’ve been in the Missouri House now for six years,” said Brown, who ran for reelection in November. “One of the cool things about this bill is it was absent lobbyists. It was absent big business. It was literally two moms — one of the moms had an unfortunate situation with law enforcement. It was so organic. They called me up and said, ‘Hey, we can do better.’ And I was like, ‘You know what? You’re right.’
“The hope is that it’s going to help law enforcement do their job better. It’s going to help them have a better understanding of possibly who is in that car or vehicle. And it’s obviously going to help protect people who are behind the wheel.”
People like Mason Ott, who ultimately received no traffic citations whatsoever following the tense afternoon encounter. Reflecting on the new state law bearing his name, Ott simply remarked, “It will be really helpful.”
For Megan Brown, the overriding emotion remains a deep sense of relief and gratitude that her son is safe. Until the state’s new database and registration system is fully operational, Ott’s car features a bumper sticker that reads: “Autistic driver. Please be patient.”
While the visible marker helps raise public awareness, it also brings mixed emotions for his mother, who worries that the label could occasionally make her son vulnerable to bad actors looking to take advantage of vulnerable individuals. For now, her primary focus is spreading awareness about a legislative achievement that she believes will protect countless families across Missouri.
“I never expected it to be named after him,” Brown said. “When Chris Brown said, ‘We’re going to name it “Mason’s Law,”’ I just started crying. I just thought it was amazing.”
