No More Hit-and-Runs

On August 12, 2022, I faced a day that seemed destined to rob me of my father. In the early morning, my dad and I departed from my hometown en route to Miami, Florida at 6:00 A.M. Given our individual errands- my attendance at a meeting at Florida International University and his Auto Mechanic Recertification exam at 9:00 A.M – we opted to drive in separate cars. Although we agreed on this plan, a hint of nervousness lingered within me. At the tender age of 17, it marked my first time driving by myself for 3 hours on the highway, and within a bustling city where every hour is rush hour.

Throughout the drive, my dad drove behind me, ensuring my well-being. We stuck together on the road until we reached the Palmetto Expressway in Miami, where we had to part ways and take different routes. Gripping the steering wheel, my hands grew damp, and my heartbeat reverberated throughout my body. Driving on this expressway was unnerving, yet the knowledge of my dad trailing behind acted as a soothing balm. I routinely glanced at the rear-view mirror, seeking solace in the sight of my dad’s compact, black Toyota Camry. As we approached the highway exit, relief began to wash over me, anticipating our departure from the congested road filled with drivers weaving unpredictably between lanes. I signaled a right turn, indicating my intent to switch to the far-right lane for the off-ramp. Glancing into the rear-view mirror, instead of witnessing my dad’s car smoothly shifting lanes, I was met with the sight of white Yukon GMC, double the size of my dad’s vehicle, colliding with the left rear fender of the black Toyota Camry. I watched in shock as the small car, carrying my dad, swerved off the road and into the grass, while the Yukon accelerated, executing an escape plan. The magnitude of what I had just witnessed engulfed me, and a surge of emotions overcame me. Uncertain whether to stop and rush to my dad’s side, all I yearned for was confirmation of his well-being, to witness him intact and alive. Having seen countless movies and news reports on catastrophic accidents, my mind conjured the worst-case scenarios: the potential for broken limbs, facial scarring, internal injuries, or worse, death. Familiar with my dad’s resilience, I held onto the hope that he wouldn’t let the reckless driver flee the scene after nearly totaling his car and endangering his life. In a fleeting moment, I observed my dad forced off the road, witnessed his swift exit from the black Toyota, and abruptly abandoned plans to take the exit. Ever heard of the fight-or-flight scenario? Well, my foot initiated the fight response as it pressed the gas pedal, my hands deftly steering the car back onto the highway, tailing the white Yukon that could have altered my dad’s life. One hand on the wheel, the other dialing 911, I fulfilled my instinct to protect and obtain justice. As anticipated, my dad’s subsequent call assured me of his well-being and urged me not to “let that man escape the scene.” Describing the incident to the highway patrol, I provided the Yukon’s plate number. With the necessary information fathered, I exited the highway, called my dad, and returned to the spot where he had been forcefully pushed off the road. Togather, we proceeded to file a police report. Repeatedly questioned by the sheriffs and my dad about my emotions, I grappled with a roller coaster of feelings: worry, relief, anger, sadness, happiness, and nervousness.

Reflecting on that day, I’m haunted by the frequency of hit-and-run incidents. This reprehensible behavior has regrettably become commonplace in today’s society of reckless drivers. The profound impact on someone’s property and life, coupled with the audacity of offenders to continue with their lives unscathed, astounds me. Conversations with my dad, an auto mechanic, have enlightened me on the vulnerability of cars. Contrary to their advertised safety, cars are, in his words, “lo más peligroso y inseguro” [the most dangerous and unsafe]. This revelation, coming from a mechanic, instills a sense of fear. While society expects surgeons to extol the marvels of the human body, my dad’s profession prompts a starkly different perspective on cars. Raised with an understanding of driving at full speed on the highway with 4 round pieces of rubber, I’ve learned to always be cautious.

I firmly believe that a concise course on car mechanisms could significantly reduce driving-related fatalities. Such a course would debunk the illusion of cars as impervious entities advertised by companies. Just as aspiring drivers undergo online courses to obtain their permits, they should be required to to watch videos and read about car mechanisms to comprehend the intricacies of the vehicle they operate at high speeds. They might be surprised to find out that their brake pads are only held by one to two miniature bolts, for example. Implementing these educational additions during the licensing process would enlighten the public about the risks they undertake while driving. I advocate for spreading awareness about reckless driving by offering driving lessons to family and close friends. By imparting knowledge gleaned from my dad and more, I aim to provide guidance on safe driving practices and accident avoidance. Driving, I emphasize, is not about winning a race, thinking you’re in the Fast and Furious saga, or exuding coolness; it’s about ensuring a safe journey from point A to point B.