I never really took driving seriously. I, like most 16-year-olds, just wanted to get my license, my freedom. I only started to take driving more seriously during driver safety courses. As we learned about the effects of distracted and drunk driving, I began to get scared. At just 16 I was given so much power behind the wheel. The driving education classes helped plant the idea in my head that driving is more serious than I had thought, but what opened my eyes to the true dangers of driving was the red truck.

It was a warm summer afternoon, my boyfriend at the time had just gotten his license no more than 6 months before. We were driving to town from his house when we saw a glimpse of red flash behind us in the rearview mirror. I still remember the song that was on the radio, Birch Tree by Strawberry Guy. The flash was there, far behind us on the hill, and then before I knew it he was next to us, passing. Then I see the flash of a black truck just in front of us. I remember seeing the golden fur of the lab in the back of the red truck. The two trucks just feet from colliding, were able to miss each other. I then saw the flash of the red truck again, this time flying through the air followed by a dust cloud in the forest. My body shakes as I dial 911. The next thing I know I am running through the forest with my hand glued to my phone. Clinging to the operator like my life depended on it. I see the red truck up close, with a man sitting up against it surrounded by beer cans and debris he tells me he has a friend. I turn to find my boyfriend frantically walking towards me, his face covered in tears, “I think he’s dead” At that moment I look past him to see a man covered in tattoos sitting against a tree. I still remember feeling the warmth of his wrist against my fingertips. I still remember wishing, expecting, and begging the universe to feel a pulse, but there was none. I began to look for that beautiful golden fur I saw in the back of the truck. I ran back and forth shaking. People, lights, and sirens began to surround me, yet I heard nothing but my breath.
At just 17 years old my perspective on driving had changed completely. At just 17 years old I saw my first dead body. At 17 years old I began to have panic attacks. At 17 years old I was forced to see the truth of driving. These lessons were all exposed to me at such a young age, just because a young man decided he was sober enough to drive. Two years after the accident I testified in court, I had to relive the entire accident this time in front of a courtroom full of people. As the mother of the passenger hugged me while crying into my shoulder all I could feel was anger. Anger because a mother should never have to go through something like that, and anger because neither should a couple of 17-year-old kids.

One dumb decision has affected so many people. I still remember the lifeless face of the young man against the tree when I see a red truck. When I see the flashing lights of an ambulance on the side of the road I remember the tattoos covering his wrist. When I hear about court I get flashbacks of the two-week trial, being on the stand with my shaky voice. If I go out with friends and I hear people make drunk driving jokes I feel my heart skip a beat. I wish for nobody of any age to see the things I saw. Most of all, I wish for nobody to make one dumb decision that will change completely change their life. It is not worth it.

I wish there were a simple solution to preventing the number of deaths related to driving, but there’s not. Distracted driving, drunk driving, and irresponsible driving are all very similar, you think, “It will never happen to me”, or “I am sober enough to drive”. Let me tell you, from my experience, it is not worth it. Sharing my story is the only way I can hope to open people’s eyes to the dangers of driving. I hope my story can persuade you to be more cautious, considerate, and responsible while driving.