The Exponent Online


11/5/01	5 day quick link 11/2 \| 11/1 \| 10/31 \| 10/30 \| 10/29

Speeding could lead drivers to deadly consequences

People, I apologize.

I normally try to avoid mentioning depressing things. Yeah, not the

best way to start off the week.

But this seriousness must be addressed. It applies to most of us.

It happened a month ago, yet it seems like yesterday. The nightmares stopped, but I still can't get the damn picture out of my head. To explain, I guess I have to tell the story.

It was a Thursday afternoon; I was driving back from my part-time internship at the Indianapolis Airport. I had just hopped on I-65 north when suddenly traffic came to a halt. Five cars ahead, I saw a vehicle being literally tossed off the road by an out of control 18-wheeler. There was dust and dirt flying everywhere, and if I wasn't listening to my *NSYNC greatest hits CD, I would have heard what twisting metal sounds like.

As I stopped, instinct overtook me. Immediately I was out of the car, sprinting towards the wreck. I passed people just staying by their cars. I could've done the same. Yet the thought of helping those injured overcame every single inhibition I had at the moment. I knew it might be bad; I might see something I didn't want to see; I might put myself in harm's way. Hell, I might get blood all over the one nice shirt I own. I didn't care. People would need help.

But as I got there, I wished I had stayed in my car.

The guy in the semi was fine, the guy driving the truck that was now in the median was miraculously fine, but there was a third … a third something. Was it a car, was it a truck, was it the freaking Oscar Meyer Weiner Mobile? It was a gray pickup truck, or the obscure remains of one, at least. As I approached the truck — holy crap.

Before I continue: a little background. There was a construction zone ahead; the truck had slowed to a near stop to match the traffic ahead. Now picture a speeding semi meeting the back end of a stationary vehicle.

Yeah, that'll leave a mark.

I couldn't believe the size of the gashes in the pavement where the semi had literally ran up and over the truck. It was like a monster truck rally, you know where those trucks with huge tires run over old cars. Except this time people were in those old cars. Anyway, it was concluded the truck was going too fast and following too close.

As I approached the remains of the truck there were pieces of bumpers, taillights, and glass everywhere. I wasn't worried about the truck exploding. The gas tank had ruptured, emptying gas all over the place.

The smell was acrid.

As I rounded the driver's side door, what I saw brought me to my knees. I would have hoped that any fatalities would be hidden in the tangle of the frame. Nope, the body of the driver was practically sticking halfway out the window. Not a fun thing to look at. Reality hit home quick, so quick I didn't think it was real. I didn't even go feel his pulse. You couldn't get any more dead than that. The dash had been slammed right into his face, making his face not really look like a face anymore. There were too many signs affirming that he was dead. I'll save you the mental pictures by not mentioning them. It was the most horrible thing I've ever seen.

The thought that if I had left work 10 seconds earlier, if I hadn't fumbled with my car keys, or if I had made that one stop light before it turned red, that it could have been me. I still get shivers thinking about that.

Now I never knew the victim, but for that moment standing there just feet away from the body were some of the most devastating seconds of my entire life. I've seen a dead person before, and the gore seen in many movies was as gruesome, but what brought me to my knees was that 30 seconds ago, that guy was alive and well. In a split second he went from being a guy with a name, to just being referred to as "a body."

For days after, I got really angry with those who sped by while I was driving. They hadn't seen what I had seen. They hadn't seen what reckless driving can do. They continued to drive way too fast.

Let's talk about speed. What do you go: 10, 15, 30 over? You probably think, as long as you don't get caught, it doesn't matter. The truth is, excessive speed is a factor in 30% of all fatal crashes. That's over 12,600 of the 42,000 deaths each year on our nation's roads.

Think about it guys, that's two Sept. 11's worth of lives saved each year if we would just stop speeding. It doesn't get any more black and white than that.

It's simple: slow down. The faster you go, the less reaction time you have and the longer it takes you to stop. Unless you're driving for hours, speeding is only going to save you a couple minutes anyway. So why do it? Remember the first time you got a speeding ticket? You thought to yourself, "I would have gladly traded a ticket for getting there 10 minutes later." Where did that thought process go?

Why did we forget that clever conclusion?

But I'm not going to tell you how to live your life. If you want to do something because you truly believe it's all right, well fine. But realize this: don't go around doing things that have dangerous consequences that you need to witness to tell you it's wrong. You don't want to see what I saw to tell you speeding is wrong. Catch things you're doing wrong before fate deals you a bitter wake up call. Because unless you don't, you're risking that wake-up call to make an example of you.

Again I'm sorry for my seriousness in this. Kinda different coming from a

guy who jokes about monkeys and grandma. But it needed to be said.

Next time you're on I-65 north, look closely about 50 feet past mile

marker 132. You'll see the marks in the pavement where reckless

driving caused the death of some guy just wanting to get home.

Sure that truck might have saved a couple of minutes on the trip, but instead he has the death of another on his conscience for the rest of his life. I'd trade days more stuck in a car than the chance at that crap.

Take care all. Drive safe.

Till next week.

Brian Dillon is a senior in Purdue's Professional Pilot Program. Please

e-mail him at dillonb@purdue.edu.

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