The Pink Note on My Dashboard

I hit a man on a motorcycle.

Even now, writing those words doesn't feel real. I still can't believe it happened. I was driving my truck home with my younger sister after a quick trip into town. We live in the country, so even a trip to Target means driving into the nearest suburb. We were doing what we always do together, listening to music way too loud and singing along. Music is our thing. We love everything from The Beatles and Bob Welch to 70s yacht rock and even underground punk. If you asked anyone who knew me, they would never have guessed that night would end with me hitting someone.

Let me back up.

I have always considered myself a great driver. Not just good, but really responsible. I drive a 2002 Chevy 2500 HD that used to be my dad's. I'm known as the kid who doesn't drink, doesn't get into trouble, gets good grades, and follows the rules. Parents trusted me enough that my younger sister's friends were allowed to go places only if I was driving. Some parents would even ask to make sure it was me behind the wheel. I was proud of that reputation.

To be honest, I also had kind of a holier-than-thou attitude. I would see kids posting Snapchat videos while driving or talking to the camera with one hand on the wheel, and I would think they were complete idiots. I never texted while driving. I never looked at Instagram. I never even used voice-to-text because I had watched my mom do it before, and it still seemed distracting to me. In my mind, distracted driving was something other people did.

Then I literally hit a man on a motorcycle.

It was dark. The music was loud. I simply didn't see him until it was too late. He was stopped in the road, waiting to turn into his neighborhood. I don't even remember seeing him at first. My reaction was pure instinct. I slammed on my brakes so hard my truck spun almost 180 degrees. Later I saw the skid marks on the road. I watched the motorcycle go flying. 

Everything stopped.

I did not know if my sister was okay. I did not know if I was okay. Most importantly, I did not know if the man on the motorcycle was okay. My mind immediately went to the worst possible place. I wondered if I had just killed someone.

Thankfully, I didn't.

We called 911 immediately, but the motorcyclist got up, threw his bike down, said he was going to walk home, and left before emergency crews arrived. Looking back, I think he may have been drinking, but that doesn't matter. This wasn't about him. This was about me. I was the driver, and I was responsible for paying attention.

The biggest lesson I learned is that distracted driving is so much more than texting and driving. I thought because I never looked at my phone, I was safe. I was wrong. Distracted is distracted. Whether it's reaching for a water bottle, changing the radio, having loud music playing, or getting caught up singing with your passenger, anything that takes your complete focus away from driving is dangerous. You don't have to be looking at Snapchat to miss something important.  It doesn’t have to be a heavy metal song that causes distraction. A low-key Christopher Cross song can cause trouble, too.

I still think about that night all the time. I remember my parents flying to the scene. My mom showed up in flip-flops and the shorts she wears around the house because they left so fast she didn't even think about changing. My dad still had his glasses on because he had already taken out his contacts for the night. I remember my little sister holding it together while the police were there and then breaking down crying as soon as our parents arrived. I never want to feel that helpless again.

Since that night, I have changed the way I drive. Every day there is a bright pink Post-it note on my dashboard that says, "You are lucky." It probably sounds simple, maybe even kind of dumb, but it works. My mom once taped a note on our washing machine because I kept leaving ChapStick and lip gloss in my pockets and ruining our clothes. I realized reminders work for me. Every time I get in my truck, I see those three words and remember exactly what happened. I may even change the wording and color of the Post-it note every few months so I don't stop noticing it.

The Post-it note is not the only change I have made. Before I put my truck in drive, I make sure my phone is put away, I have everything I need, and my head is actually in the right place for driving. I also pay more attention to things I never thought twice about before, especially the volume of my music. I am not going to pretend I will never listen to music in my truck again because that would be unrealistic. My sister and I would probably be disappointed because our car rides are basically our own concerts. But I have learned there is a difference between enjoying music and letting it take away from my focus on the road. I also make sure I am not letting conversations with passengers distract me. Being a good driver is not just about avoiding obvious things like texting. It is about noticing the little things that can add up and making better choices every time I get behind the wheel.

I can't change what happened that night, but I can make sure I never forget it. I learned that you don't have to text and drive to be a distracted driver. I learned that even someone with a good reputation, good grades, and good intentions can make a mistake with life-changing consequences. Most importantly, I learned that driving deserves 100% of my attention, every single time I get behind the wheel.

I learned that I was lucky.