"One Second"

              “That car is coming up really fast!” were the last words I heard my father say before the impact. I was only seven years old, lying across the back seat of my father’s rental car, drifting off to sleep during what was supposed to be a simple trip to visit my mother at work in Savannah. The soft green glow of the dashboard lights filled the car while the radio played quietly in the background. I rested my head on the middle of the back seat, listening as my sister whispered, "I think she’s asleep." Feeling safe, I kept my eyes closed.   
 
In an instant, everything changed.  
 
           A drunk driver in a BMW slammed into the back of our vehicle, sending us flying off the highway and into the woods. Waking up upside down to shattered glass and my seatbelt rippingthrough my side. My ears rang, my body ached, and for a moment I couldn'tunderstand what had happened. My father, my sister, and I were injured, terrified, and forced to crawl through out the trees until we reached the busy highway.  
 
 

               It was dark outside, only seeing blinding flashes of headlight speed past us on the highway. Standing so close to the road, I could feel the powerful gusts of wind from the passing 18-wheelers pushing against my small body. My heart raced as I clung tightly to my father's blue jeans. I didn't understand what had just happened. I was cold, scared, and all I wanted was my mother. In the distance, we heard the sound of ambulance sirens. Their faint wail grew louder with every passing moment. For the first time since the crash, we felt a sense of relief, realizing help was finally on the way. We were taken to the very hospital where my mother worked. I still remember seeing her worried face waiting outside the sliding door of the bright ambulance.  I can still feel the coolness of her hands as she wrapped her arms around my sister and me. The soft fabric of her deep blue scrubs brushed against my cheek as she held us tightly in her motherly embrace. For the first time that night, I felt safe.  
 
 

         That day taught me that one person's reckless decision can change the lives of complete strangers in a matter of seconds. Although I was only seven years old, the memories of that crash have never left me. As I grew older, I realized that what happened to my family happens to thousands of other families every year because of preventable crashes.  According to the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration, buckling up is the single most effective thing you can do to protect yourself in a crash.(National Highway Traffic Safety Administration). My seat belt left bruises and stitches across my side, but it also gave me something far more valuable: a second chance at life. Today, I understand that driving is not just a privilege; it is a responsibility. Every choice a driver makes, whether to drive impaired, become distracted, or ignore the rules of the road, has the potential to change someone's life forever.

  When I first started learning to drive, my mother insisted that I complete a driver's education course before getting my license. At the time, I thought she was only delaying my freedom. Like many teenagers, I was eager to get behind the wheel and couldn't understand why I had to spend more than 30 hours completing a virtual driver's education class. I now realize she wasn't holding me back; she was protecting me. Every lesson about defensive driving, impaired driving, safe following distances, and making responsible decisions reinforced what I had learned through my own experience years earlier. Today, as I drive on my own, I find myself thanking my mother for making that difficult but loving decision. 
 

                  Looking back, I see that surviving that crash gave me a different perspective on driving than many people my age. Every time I get behind the wheel, my eyes naturally glance at the rearview mirror. I know how quickly a vehicle can approach behind me because I have lived through the consequences of another driver's reckless decision. I also leave plenty of space between my car and the vehicles around me because I understand that even when I make the right choices, I cannot predict the choices of others.  
 
 

       Buckling my seatbelt is never an afterthought. As a seven-year-old child, I remember waking upside down with my seatbelt cutting into my skin. It left deep cuts that required stitches and scars that remain to this day, but it also saved my life.  At times I wonder what would have happened if, like many children, I had forgotten to buckle my seatbelt that night.  Instead of my seatbelt leaving cuts across my side, it could have been shattered glass, twisted metal, or even being thrown from the vehicle. That thought has stayed with me throughout my life.  
 
                 Every time I get into my car, I pause to buckle my seat belt. It takes only a second, but to me that second means everything. It reminds me of the little girl  I once was, whose seat belt left bruises and stitches but also allowed her to grow up, earn her driver's license, and one day sit behind the wheel herself. Today, I realized that every vehicle around me carries someone with a story of their own. It may be another child asleep in the back seat of their family's car, or a mother driving her children to school. Either way, they are placing their family's lives in the hands of people they have never met, trusting that every driver will make responsible choices.  
 
 

          As I drive, I often remember my father's words before the crash. They remind me that every decision I make behind the wheel matters. Because of what happened to my father, my sister, and me that night, I choose to drive with care, stay focused, and never take that responsibility for granted. Every time we get behind the wheel, we control more than just the speed and direction of our own vehicle—we help determine whether another family makes it home safely. That is why I choose to drive in a way that protects not only my own life, but the lives of every single family sharing the road with me.  

Sources 

National Highway Traffic Safety Administration. Seat Belts.