Precious Parking

The high school should really allow all students to drive to school. There is no reason just to limit it to seniors. If there is a space shortage, we should raise money and build a parking structure, just like they have at the colleges. 

There is no way my Precious would take the bus. The bus arrives far too early in the morning and Precious needs to sleep late. Otherwise, we get cranky and foul-mouthed and that doesn’t fly in my house! Walking or biking are just not practical. Besides, Precious has to take sports equipment and a computer and the hot/cold tray that Cook prepares for lunch each day. The bus makes so many stops and is not air-conditioned (or I think it isn’t, I’m not sure) and my Precious can’t take that kind of environment. 

Besides, there is only one bus after sports practice and it goes just about everywhere. It would take Precious a half hour or more to get home on it. That isn’t practical. Precious has tutoring in all the major subjects twice a week, private sports coaching, ACT and SAT tutoring, and frequent meetings with our college helper. I love that college helper. She is making sure that Precious is on top of all those deadlines. Precious doesn’t have to do anything! This college stuff is so stressful. Why can’t we just let Precious into my alma mater and be done with it? Precious will be going there anyway, why do we have to hop through all these meaningless hoops? 

So, I have a friend of a friend who has a little home a few blocks from the school. They charge pay $500 per semester for Precious to park at their house. We were going to let Precious take the Escalade that we usually keep at the lake house, but it’s two years old, so we got a Porche to replace it and Precious will drive that. We’ll just have to use my Land Rover when we are up north. It is a sacrifice we are just going to have to make. 

I wish my friend’s friend’s home was a little closer to the school. As it is, Precious has to walk three blocks. I park there when I stop by and take Precious’s Land Rover to the gas station and fill it up. Precious doesn’t have time for that. I can’t believe how long it takes me and that car always needs so much gas! 

I don’t know what we would do if Precious wasn’t able to drive to school. I can’t get up that early. It is an ungodly time, anyway. None of our people have arrived yet, well Cook has, but that is to make Precious’s breakfast and lunch. Cook can’t be expected to be a driver, too. 

I am concerned that, once Precious can drive to school, the staff will take all the good parking places. I don’t want Precious parking so far away from the building that it is the same distance as the friend’s friend’s house! That would be so unfair! I think kids who park in the nearby neighborhoods should have special spots right near the door when they become seniors. After all, they have been waiting to drive to school their entire lives! 

SUV POV?

On two recent vacations, I rented SUVs. Although I considered purchasing an SUV when I shopped for a new car, I have never driven one for longer than a test drive until these rentals. One of the SUVs was a three-row luxury vehicle. The other was a mid-sized sports SUV. 

After spending almost four weeks driving these vehicles (they are NOT cars), I still fail to understand their appeal. Why would anyone choose to drive these trucks? 

The original purpose of the sports utility vehicle was either to be a workhorse by pulling and hauling heavy materials or to drive on unpaved or inhospitable surfaces. Many years ago, SUVs became fashionable. The Hummer became the symbol of the SUV fad. 

When I purchased my first minivan, I looked at SUVs, but when it came to hauling people and their stuff, the minivan was both easier for the people and more storage for the stuff. The third row in the SUV I rented was almost unusable. Perhaps very small children or people without legs would be comfortable – when they could contort themselves to get back there. 

When we used the third row, the remaining storage capacity was so diminished that we could not carry much luggage. When we only had four people in the car, we had plenty of storage. Unlike my old minivan, the SUV could not carry people and stuff, but only one or the other – and the people not that well. 

People sometimes like to ride higher than traffic. It is not a feature exclusive to SUVs – nor do all SUVs have it equally. Minivans and a few other types of trucks also ride higher than a standard sedan. Some of the crossovers, which look more like station wagons, ride closer to the height of many cars. 

Safety is an often-stated reason for purchasing a larger vehicle. Are SUVs safer? According to a recently released study, passengers in the second row of an SUV aren't as safe as those in front. But this study looked at injuries to the people in the SUVs, not to those they hit! Are SUVs safer when they are not driven well? How many times have you seen a driver of an SUV on the road or in a parking lot who could not manage the large vehicle? Driving these beasts takes skill that many people have not mastered.

My rentals were more complicated to navigate in a parking lot or small spaces. The larger SUV had an interesting feature: the parking brake automatically engaged whenever the vehicle was parked. The SUV was so heavy that the regular parking setting could not keep it from rolling! 

My family owns hybrid cars. We are used to getting between 35 to 55 miles per gallon. Both of the SUVs I rented were gas guzzlers. I was shocked at how often I had to fill the tank. I was also shocked at the size of the tanks! I spent almost $100 to fill it up! That is three or four fill-ups for our cars at home! 

Why would anyone pay so much? Perhaps it makes sense if the SUV was full of people or stuff much of the time, but my experience is that most people drive alone. Why would you drive by yourself in an enormous, expensive, gas-guzzling truck? Does it say that you are so wealthy that the costs, both financially and environmentally, are meaningless to you? 

Gas prices are in the news constantly. People complain about them. Drivers of electric cars comment to me about how they are immune to them.  If you drive an SUV that gets less poor mileage and use it as your regular daily vehicle, I can only assume that the cost of gas might be breaking your budget. If it isn’t, you are indeed fortunate and wealthy. 

As I am writing, I am coming to the conclusion that driving a larger SUV is a kind of fashion and status statement. It isn’t about practicality, safety, fuel economy, or environmental impact. It is about wanting to drive the largest truck on the road. 

I have decided not to rent SUVs anymore. They are too costly, too difficult to drive, require trips to the gas station too often, and haul people poorly. If I need a truck, I’ll rent a van or minivan. From now on, I am sticking with cars!  

Little Camera is Watching

Recently, I purchase a dash-cam. I bought it because I had several near accidents with vehicles running red lights and stop signs, and because I was curious – and because it was on sale. It was easy to install and I have only twice looked at any of the videos that it has recorded. For the most part, I forget about it while I am driving. I remember it, however, when I see poor driving.

I think about how my driving is being captured on other people’s dash-cams. While this has changed my driving and, for the most part, I consider myself a conservative and safe driver, I wonder if people would drive differently if they thought that recordings of their driving might turn up online, at the police department, or in other ways. Would some of us slow down?  Would some of us put on a show?

Google introduced Google Glass in 2013 and more recently Google Clip. Both are, for lack of a better term, person cams. They serve the same basic function as my dash-cam, but for human beings. They are a civilian version of the body cams that some police wear.

As you move through your day, people with whom you interact might be recording everything you do and say. The ubiquity of cell phones has that potential as well. Does that change anything?

Let’s try a thought experiment: what if people at your work were recording you? What if, as you dealt with co-workers, clients, customers, and others, someone was secretly recording? How would that affect you? Would it change your behavior?

There are two questions here: one is obvious: how would the chance of being recorded affect one’s behavior? The second is what happens to that recording?

We act differently when there is a camera watching us. Our awareness that our actions will be seen by others, be more “permanent, ” and perhaps be critiqued makes us self-conscious. Our audience changes from known to unknown.

In the world of George Orwell’s 1984, Big Brother looked into the lives of his citizens through a kind of television set. Privacy was almost impossible. The state watched, judged, and punished. While we have no centralized eye in the sky, the idea that an audience is viewing what you are doing in your car, job, or anywhere is unnerving and increasingly likely.

The obvious retort is that, if you have nothing to hide, what is the big deal? Who cares if my actions go viral on Twitter? While there is value in this debate, it is moot. Video of people from cameras meant for security and all manner of personal cams are now out there. It doesn’t matter if you are behaving well or not. The world may see you and that, by itself may be a punishment.

Because the audience may not have context for your actions. The world may not know what your co-worker said to you just a few minutes before you lost your temper. The world may not see the crying person just off the screen. The world may only see the bad lane change, but may not the sick child in the backseat.

Pulling out your cell phone to record an incident is a way to both deescalate and intensify a situation. If you are going to cut in line, I am going to record you doing it and post it. You parked badly; I am going to shame you online. Just like in 1984, fear and shaming do not make a caring community. They do keep people in line.

So how do we deal with the proliferation of cameras and the recordings they produce? First, we increase our civility in public. There is nothing wrong with that. Beating people is wrong regardless of context. Second, we increase our awareness of the presence of cameras. We point them out and notice them wherever we are. If we are being watched, we should be aware of it. Third, we ask questions. Why are cameras here? Who sees the recordings? What is done with those recordings? Who has access to them and for what purposes? We add context wherever possible. If a camera appears, I may need to explain what is going on in more detail. I may need to directly address the camera. I need to think about my new audiences.

I never want to be on a reality TV show, but now we all may have our fifteen minutes of shame and blame. The camera genie is not going back into the bottle. But we must remember that the view into the bottle is often incomplete.

Waiting for the Van to Go

With the impending arrival of our second child, my wife and I decided that we needed a larger vehicle. We needed to be able to schlep kids, grandparents, strollers,  and lots of other stuff. So we became yet another suburban minivan family.

Long before a minivan was in our future, my wife had agreed that, should we ever get one, I could decorate it as a Star Trek style shuttlecraft. We did and, when they got older, my kids called it the nerdmobile. I loved my unique vehicle and the adventures we had in it!  

Our first van lasted about seven years. The second one is in its fourteenth year.  I drove car pools, took kids to and from overnight camp, went on road trips, and moved furniture, bikes, and everything in-between.

When I turned fifty, I bought myself a car and the van lost its place in the garage. It sits on the driveway. By that point, our younger child was driving, so it was convenient to have a third car. He could not get away with poor driving because everyone in our community recognized our special van!

Today, the van is parked in the driveway and is rarely driven. It got a few weeks of use when that younger child came home. We used it to take him to college. My wife used it when she took a few of her friends to Wisconsin. But most of the time, it sits there, waiting.

It waits for an occasion. It waits to be full of loud laughter again.  It waits for another carpool or baseball game. It waits for the kids to come home. Me, too.

And that may be why I am so reluctant to let it go. Selling the van means facing the fact that those days are over.  Of course, I have had to pay a lot of money to fix it when things go wrong. Older cars are much like older people; they need repairs regularly.

Yet, that isn’t the key issue. Although I would love to say I am hanging on to it because it is a special decorated Star Trek car, that isn’t the truth either. Selling the van is the end of an era. It says that the nest is empty. It says that the kids really live elsewhere. It says that our family’s childhood is over and it is time to move on.

It is, and I have such mixed feelings about that.  

I rationalize the issue: even though we don’t drive the van much, it is nice to have a third vehicle when the kids are here. When one of the cars is in the shop, it is great to have a spare. Several friends have needed it. I use the van to take my Sunday school kids on field trips a few times a year. See, I need a van! I really do!

This summer, both kids came in for a visit. My folks joined us and we took the whole troupe downtown for a play and dinner. Once again, we rode together in the van. It was our family room on wheels again, possibly for the last time.

That is the truth the van’s presence in the driveway obscures. There are fewer and fewer times that the entire clan is together. There are no more car pools or school dances. No teams or casts or friend groups need a ride to the party. I haven’t been a minivan dad for a long time.

I enjoy driving my car. It has some fancy features that were not available when I bought the van. My son prefers driving the “new” car to the van. It has a great sound system, he says.

So I am researching selling the van. It will seek new worlds, and so will we. All of us will boldly go where we have not gone before: the next stage of development for our little family.

Let’s Hear It For The Nerdmobile!

Years before my family and I even considered a minivan, I had a great idea: What if I decorated a vehicle to look like one of the shuttlecrafts on Star Trek? I shared this idea with wife and, perhaps since we weren’t talking about actually buying one, she gave it a thumbs up. That was all I needed.

We didn’t need a minivan with one child: a sedan and a fun red sports car worked for our family. However, when child number two was on his way, we knew that we’d need more space. Since space is the final frontier, it was time for my idea to be a reality. It was time to trade my bachelor sports car in for the ultimate symbol of parenting: a minivan.

When people ask me why I turned my minivan into a Star Trek shuttlecraft, I tell them that, if I was going to be a minivan dad, I was going to own a vehicle worth driving. It would a fun expression of my love of Star Trek and the fact that I was now a parent schlepper shuttling my kids around town. 

The first “shuttlecraft” was a gray 1997 Oldsmobile Silhouette. I debated whether it should be white or gray. My wife pointed out that a white van with red stripes would look like an ambulance. Besides, my model shuttlecraft was gray. So I went to a sign shop and asked them to make my van look just like it. They did a great job! I drove the first shuttle Galileo for about seven years before replacing it with the van I have been driving for ten years in April.

And now I am facing the end of that era: I am about to replace my minivan with a car, a sedan. Now that my younger child is about to get his drivers license, I am finally considering purchasing a car to replace what my elder child affectionately calls the “nerdmobile.” My minivan days are coming to an end.

Our minivan has, in many respects, been like everyone else’s: It has been in the elementary school pick up line, the high school parking lot, and done a ton of car pooling. It has been to sports games, rehearsals, and field trips. It has taken dozens of Sunday school students to churches, temples, mosques, mandirs, and other houses of worships. It lets us take grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles, neighbors, and friends with us! It goes back and forth from summer camp every year.

However, there are aspects to our minivan that most parents will never experience. Do people often photograph your car? Do you come out of stores to find people gathered around it? Do people flash you the Vulcan salute on the highway? How many notes have been left on your minivans that were not about car accidents?

In our community, the van is our on-the-road signature. When we are further afield, it is our connection to the wonderful science fiction and Star Trek fan community. We are never anonymous on the road. While this may have some obvious downsides, it has also means that my elder child, when driving her father’s “nerdmobile” knew that she would be held accountable for her choices on the road – and her father would be, too.

The van isn’t going away immediately. For the short term, we’ll keep it as a third car. But its days are numbered. We’re not pushing strollers, carrying diaper bags, or signing up for carpools any more. We don’t move bikes, sports equipment, or double basses any more. A sedan will be just fine for our needs.

Yet, I will miss the “Enterprise” as others call it. If you drive a minivan, you know that it is a little house on wheels. It is where the kids will talk and reveal their concerns and feelings. It is where their friends will forget there is an adult at the helm and let a dad eavesdrop on their adolescent concerns. It held the entire family when the entire family was in one place. That doesn’t happen much any more.

We boldly went where no minivan had gone before. That journey is coming to an end. A new one is beginning. We had the shuttle. We had the shuttle’s next generation. Now it is time to go explore new vehicles and new stages of life. Something tells me that I am going to miss the nerdmobile and the young family it transported.

Driving Away

My younger child is learning how to drive. He has taken traffic safety classes, behind the wheel lessons, and is driving our family vehicles – under supervision, of course. We dread it and look forward to it at the same time.

I have very clear memories of my experience learning to drive. I didn’t take private traffic safety class. I started the second semester of sophomore year. It was January. When we got to school in the morning, it was cold but clear. During class, we drove around the back parking lot learning how to handle the car. I didn’t really push too hard on the gas pedal. I had my ten minutes and sat in the back while my classmates took their turns.

Sometime around lunch, it snowed. It snowed a lot and kept on snowing. My brother and I were in a theatre production, so we stayed after school for rehearsal. By the time my father arrived to pick us up, the snow was several inches deep and still falling; it was a snowstorm.

I slid into the passenger seat and my brother went into the back of the car, “I bet Dave would like to drive home,” he teased. My father looked at me, “Would you?” I shrugged, “Let me put it to you this way: I have pressed the accelerator twice.” With that, my father got out of the car and walked around to my door. I traded places with him and drove home.

Our five-minute drive took twenty minutes. My father said very little. He made some very calm suggestions and pretty much just let me drive. From that moment on, if I got into a car, I drove it. My parents instructed me gently, calmly, and in a manner that demonstrated that they had the greatest confidence in me.

Unlike my father, I have the benefit of already having taught a child to drive. I rode with both my daughter and my niece as they learned to drive. In both cases, my calm and supportive parents were my models.

Driving is our ultimate symbol of independence and power. It is frightening to parents for good reason. Let no one make fun of drivers education teachers. It is difficult enough to sit next to one’s own children when they are learning to drive. It must take stomachs of iron to teach other people’s kids!

My daughter and niece are good drivers, and my son is getting there. We moved slowly at first: starting in a parking lot, graduating to quiet neighborhood streets, and then Sunday mornings on major roads eventually heading to the highway. And there are moments: the overturns as we bump the curb, the near misses of parked vehicles, the turns into traffic that are saved by the good driving and graciousness of strangers.

Yet how we approach teaching our children to drive speaks so strongly about how we see our relationship. Handing my son the keys to the car is not only tremendous because he can now do damage on a grand scale, but because it communicates a host of messages. It says that I trust him. It says that I want him to be fully adult and independent. It says that is it okay to drive independently from those who love you. It is literally letting go.

And I don’t like letting go. I like control and I prefer my kids close. But this isn’t about me. This is about teaching my children that it is time take the wheel. Often while we are driving, my son asks me, “Which way should I go?” My answer is always the same, “You are the driver. You decide.”

The Problem with the Pick Up Line

My kids need me to schlep them around. While it is not the best part of parenting, the conversations in the car are often nice. However, when they can move themselves to their classes, activities, and rehearsals, it is a wonderful thing. I am so grateful for busses, carpools, bikes, and Deerfield’s small size.

Yet, I often observe a long time of cars behind the high school at 2:45 in the afternoon waiting to pick up students. The last class starts at about 2:20 and ends at 3:14. This means these parents arrive at school between fifteen to thirty minutes early. These are parents with wait problems! And there aren’t just a few of them. I have counted as many as thirty vehicles.

I can understand doing this if I needed to whisk my child away to an important appointment. That doesn’t happen often. Could that many kids need a fast getaway? We don’t do many after school appointments because my children are involved in athletics, stage crew, plays, and clubs after school and are rarely willing or available to leave at the end of the class day.

That clearly isn’t the case for the waiting parents’ kids. By 3:10, the line of cars is enormous and fills the entire parking lot and the road leading to it. Why are so many parents willing to wait on their kids and why are these kids leaving school so soon?

Some people live too close to school to qualify for bussing but that doesn’t mean they need to pick up their children as soon as the final bell rings. In fact, these parents would save time if they arrived a few minutes later. By 3:30, the pick up line is gone! And if you live so close to school you don’t get bus service, does that mean your children could bike or walk? Living close doesn’t disqualify kids from taking advantage of the wonderful activities that happen after school.

After school activities are one of the most important parts of high school. Some research suggests they are just as important to children’s later success as the academics! So why are all these kids leaving at the end of the day? Because their parents are waiting to take them home? Perhaps some of them are involved in outside of school activities like Girl Scouts or volunteering. Maybe some of them have jobs. Maybe some hear the call of video games, TV, Facebook, and mommy.

Parents’ driving in the pick up line is uneven at best. Many parents drive with no regard for safety; they speed out of the parking lot, ignore laws and the school’s rules. They are so glad to get their darlings back. Many are on cell phones, which is now illegal near a school. Many are driving enormous vehicles but pick up only one child.

Almost all of the cars are running while they wait. They not only have time to burn, gas and money are no object either. And we haven’t mentioned the fact that we have a parking lot full of student vehicles!

So what is really happening here?

This could be just another example of enabling parents; parents who are enmeshed with their kids and must get them home as soon as possible. Or maybe it a case of kids who can manipulate their parents into being their chauffeurs. It is probably a little of these and more.

It is time to get rid of the pick up line. What’s my sign? Stop! Get out of the pick up line; our time is too valuable and there are so many better things to do!

My Rules of the Road

My niece is just learning to drive. My daughter has been driving for almost than two years. It is critically important to teach them to drive well since what they see on the road is often dangerous, rude, and thoughtless. I start with my three driving commandments:

• If in doubt, don’t. If you are wondering if you have enough time to turn left, don’t. If you think it might not be legal to make a U-turn, don’t. If you aren’t sure about any move behind the wheel, don’t do it!

• You are never in a hurry behind the wheel. Even if you are about to miss the train, curtain, or opportunity, you have all the time in the world once you get in the car. If you are pulled over or get in a crash, you will be far later (double meaning intended) than if you took your safe and slow time.

• Nothing fast. Don’t drive fast. Don’t make fast decisions behind the wheel. Don’t try to out maneuver other vehicles. Fast quickly creates problems.

Beside my commandments, I have my car-dinal sins. If my young drivers see these as selfish and hazardous, perhaps they will be less likely to drive badly and more likely to arrive home in one piece.

• Failure to use signals: Turn signals serve two functions: safety and courtesy and both important. Nonetheless, never trust turn signals: wait for the vehicle to make the actual turn first.

• Throwing your butt out: Although I don’t use them, most cars have ashtrays. There is no reason to throw cigarette butts out the car window. People are free to pollute their bodies, but they shouldn’t pollute the world our children drive through.

• Squeaking through the intersection after the arrow or light has changed: How many times does an extra vehicle (or two) zip through a busy intersection after the light is red or the arrow is gone? Are a few saved seconds worth a crash?

• Not taking your turn at a stop sign: It goes without saying that one should actually stop at a stop sign. However, many drivers think that is all they have to do regardless of other vehicles. Many cars stop briefly and then move through the stop sign even when others are waiting. The car that arrived first goes first. If two cars arrive at the same time, the car going straight has the right of way.

• No lights when the weather requires wipers: In Illinois, the law states that, if you are using your wipers, you must turn on your headlights. Duh! In the rain, fog, and snow, lights permit drivers and pedestrians to see oncoming traffic. I have my headlights on 100% of the time. It doesn’t save power or money to keep them off. Would that be any consolation if you hit someone?

• Put down the phone! My biggest driving sin is use of phones. Whether drivers are dialing, sending text messages, or talking, it is the most dangerous distraction. Every driver can tell stories of seeing people driving inappropriately because they were yakking away on phones. Most of us have had frightening moments due to drivers on phones. Towns and states should ban hand held phones while driving. I wish they’d stop more drivers and use traffic cameras to catch these fools. I hope that people change their habits before someone I love is one of their many victims.

Most traffic crashes aren’t accidents. Most are due to selfish and thoughtless driving. Our kids are watching. They are hearing what we say but more importantly, seeing how we live up to our professions. There are too many poor examples for them to follow. Let’s provide them with good models.

Street Smart or Street Stupid?

When we say, “street smarts,” we are usually talking about practical knowledge. People who are street smart, as opposed to book smart, have practical knowledge and can handle themselves in rough and tumble situations.

I want to talk about street smarts in a more literal way. I am concerned that people are not smart in the street. In other words, that their behavior as the drive and bicycle makes me wonder if we need a new term: street stupid. My daughter is a brand new driver and is often shocked at how poorly many people drive. I told her, “Not all people are poor drivers, but most of them are.” I think too many of us are street stupid and it could be deadly.

Yesterday, I saw a dad riding bicycles with his two children. Both children were wearing helmets but Dad was not. I can see the situation: Dad hits one of the many potholes in our streets and is incapacitated. Now what do the kids do? Perhaps dad is either so hardheaded or stupid that a helmet won’t make a difference. If we want our children to take proper safety precautions, what message do we send them when we fail to take those precautions ourselves? Unless there is nothing in your head worth protecting, why not wear a helmet? We need to model street smarts for our kids!

As I continue to teach my daughter to drive, I instructed her to always assume a bicycle will ignore the traffic rules. It is such a wonderful and rare exception when a bike stops at a stop sign. It is my experience that many bikes don’t even stop at traffic lights. Forget about riding in a single file line, many bikes are all over the road. Too many times, I come around a curve or turn a corner to find a bicycle heading directly toward me. Usually that rider has no helmet. Duh!

Street stupidity by bikers is liable to get them hurt or killed. When car drivers are street stupid, they are more likely to kill innocent people. How hard is it to turn on the headlights of your car? The car creates electric power, so there is no cost. The bulbs last for a long time. In my state, the law requires motorists to use their headlights if they have their windshield wipers on. Wait a minute. Isn’t that common sense? Next time it is raining or there is fog, count the number of cars without headlights on. Stupidity is rampant.

However, the place where street stupidity is an epidemic is the use of cell phones while driving. There has been a great deal of coverage of this issue in the popular press - using a cell phone, even if it is with some kind of hands-free device, is a driving distraction akin to drunk driving. How many times have you passed a driver going too slowly, driving dangerously, or not paying attention only to see that driver talking on a phone? But of course, we are better than that. We can talk on our phones and drive safely. Can we? Really? Always?

Driving while texting boggles my mind. It is in another universe from any of the other forms of street stupidity. According to the New York Times, people sending text messages will look away from the road for as much as five seconds. Think about how far a car going only thirty miles an hour can travel in five seconds. Think about the damage it can do. According to a Pew Research Center report, 27 percent of all adults and 26 percent of teens report sending text messages while driving! That means that one or more of the drivers near you on the road is probably looking at the phone and not the road.

So here is the gambit: is the cell phone call or text message worth an accident? Is it worth someone’s life? That is a loaded question. I thought about starting this posting with a quiz on each of these issues. But everyone knows the right answers. No sane, reasonable person would say that a text message or phone call was worth the pain an accident, even a minor one, would cause. Then why are so many people street stupid?

We can only hope that they don’t hurt people close to us.

Remembering But Not Surrendering

On the morning of October 14, 2006, my phone rang at 7 in the morning. It was my wife’s aunt, “Was that car crash on your street? It’s on the news.” I had a vague memory of hearing the Doppler sound of a car speeding past my bedroom window in the middle of the night. Soon our phone was ringing every four or five minutes.

An intoxicated graduate of Deerfield High School had sped down our street and hit a tree. He was killed as was the DHS senior sitting behind him. Three other young people survived.

For some in our community, the world changed that day. Unfortunately, it feels like there was a brief period of shock and sadness that passed all too quickly. There is the old truism that says a stoplight doesn’t get put up at an intersection until someone is killed; it cases like these, it takes much more than that.

I walked to end of my street on that October morning. The news crew was there and so were a few of my neighbors. There were no skid marks; the car never braked. The police had marked the pavement with colored paint. The mark on the tree was the only concrete indication that anything had happened. Unfortunately, this was a sign of things to come.

The next day, my eight-year-old son and twelve year old daughter had questions. They wanted to see what was going on at the end of their street, so the three of us took a short walk. The crash site had become a memorial and there was a small crowd. Signs, notes, pictures and tokens had been placed around the tree. Soon, one of the kids who was in the crash came out of a nearby house smoking a cigarette. My children were shocked to see him smoking. They thought that smoking at the site of a crash caused by substance abuse was disrespectful. I agreed. It was another sign of things to come – or rather, things not to come.

As the community grieved and looked for answers, it became clear that there was plenty of blame to go around. There was the pointing of fingers, filing of lawsuits, and forming of parent groups, but not enough progress. At one community meeting not long after the crash, some parents were far more concerned about their liability when hosting a party than their children’s well being.

Here we are three years later. It would be cliché to ask, “Has anything changed?” Are these deaths the price for teenage irresponsibility and recklessness? Do we have to sacrifice teenagers periodically in order to wake up the community? Is this unavoidable? Are there always going to be parents who enable and kids who misbehave?

Regardless of the answers to these questions, I will not surrender our children because some believe these events are inevitable. I will not give them up without one hell of a fight. When I ask kids, “what will it take to change behavior?” they do not have an answer. They don’t know. There are countless examples of how our attempts to stem the tide of teenage blood is ineffective. Yet, none of this excuses us and permits us to lay down and do nothing. No matter what our odds for success, we must not give up the struggle.

On the Friday before homecoming this year, my students and I talked about having a safe celebration. I woke up late on Homecoming Saturday. My phone didn’t ring. That doesn’t mean it won’t tomorrow or the next day. In fact, I know it eventually will, even while I am hoping it will not.

They are all our children and they are our responsibility. And while we cannot prevent every horror, we can try. We must try, and we must keep trying. Our children’s lives depend on it.