Hitting
Home
By
Aidan
M. Wohl



I
had my license for over a year, but recently got my own car. I was a
new driver and as a result, my mother wanted me to have driving
experience before facing the icy winter roads. While I was eager to
drive, I understood the importance of being safe. As part of
drivers education, I had seen many videos and listened carefully as
speakers shared their own personal experiences. Some lost family
members, others their ability to walk or speak. The grisly images of
the catastrophic effects of unsafe driving haunted me. I vowed at
that moment to obey the speed limit and never drive under the
influence. I valued my mother's decision to make sure that I was
ready to take on the vast responsibility of being behind the wheel.


My
parents divorced many years ago, but I still remember my mother
begging my father not to drive on several occasions. I didn't
understand why at the time, but he never listened. Last March as I
was ready to lease my first car, my father told me to wait. He was
going to give me his car because he was recently arrested for driving
drunk. Consequently, he was removed from the road. The impact this
has had on me has been devastating. My father was going to give me
his car with a breathalyzer installed. He told me that in order to
start the car I would have to blow into a device. The humiliation
enveloped me. How could I drive a car like this? What would I tell
my friends? I yearned to have the freedom of owning my own car and
yet couldn't accept that car because it stood for everything I was
against. That vehicle, now tainted, represented all of the innocent
people who lose their lives every day from careless people making
egregious decisions. I thought this car would give me the freedom I
craved, instead it is a constant reminder that making righteous
choices save lives.