Hitting Home

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.