The Accident

Melodye Miller

Purpose of this essay:

The purpose of this essay is two fold. The first purpose is to inform the reader of the hazards of drinking and driving and the effects it can have on your life. People can be seriously hurt and thousands of dollars of property can be destroyed. Every time you take the chance of drinking and driving, you put yourself and everyone on the road in great jeopardy. The second purpose of this essay is to inform people to take into account their gut feelings and intuitions. A lot of the time, your instincts are generally right.

Audience:

This essay has been written for anyone who has a driver’s license and may occasionally drink. You may find yourself in the position at any time, where you will have to make a responsible decision on drinking and driving.

What a night! There I was wandering aimlessly back and forth on the median strip. Damn, it was cold. I was so upset and overwhelmingly shocked. My breath thick in the night air, as I stood staring at my car lodged up against the curb. Oil and fluids running out from under the front end. What had happened? What had I done? All I wanted was to go home, hopefully, waking up to find this had all been just a bad dream.

Earlier in the afternoon, the idea of getting out of the house for an evening seemed so appealing. Just like the days when life was simple. Here was the chance to sweep away the hectic routine of the day to day family life, with all it’s concerns and responsibilities. You see, I had been working the graveyard shift at Good Samaritan Hospital and sleep was a rare commodity. I decided, although I was tired, I was going to go out tonight with my closest friend Dawn, no matter what.

While I was getting ready for my night out on the town, thoughts kept haunting me. I had this feeling like something was going to go wrong. I was heading to a little bar that I had never heard of called "Bullwinkles" on the other side of town. "Maybe, I should just stay home tonight," I thought. "After all, it’s a long drive and I’ll be driving home late at night." I wrestled with my thoughts. There was this nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach saying, "just stay home tonight."

Against what turned out to be my better judgment, I decided to go anyway and ignore the strong feelings in my stomach. It had been a long time since I had been out with my friend Dawn. Dawn and I had grown up together. We were more like sisters than friends. Our schedules were so crazy with our families and jobs that we never had the opportunity to get together anymore. I was determined to take full advantage of the chance to get out of the house tonight and spend some time with Dawn.

As I headed out into the cold night, those nagging feelings returned. I put them out of my mind. I jumped into the car and headed for my destination. Maybe this would turn out to be a good time after all. Once again, I was looking forward to my big night out. Directions in hand, I had no problem finding the place where I had agreed to meet Dawn. I pulled up and thought to myself, "She’s got to kidding." This place was not exactly what I had in mind, but I decided to go in and have a good time. My first impression of this place was quickly justified. Bullwinkles was a small bar with an old beat up pool table, the bar itself, two little round tables with rickety chairs and a jukebox. This place reminded me of someone’s grungy old basement. The pungent smell of stale beer and cigarette smoke was overwhelming. I was in a typical neighborhood bar. Dawn greeted me immediately, and introduced me to a few people she was there with. Everyone seemed friendly enough, so I decided to settle in and make the best of the night. I sat down on one of the old chairs and ordered a beer. All of a sudden, my earlier thoughts came rushing back again. "Should I really be out here tonight? Look at his place." I decided that since I had come this far, I might as well have a good time. Dawn and I sat and talked for a while, enjoying each other's company. After a few drinks, I was realizing how tired I was. But I was having fun, so I decided to hang out for a little while longer.

About two o’clock in the morning, Dawn and I staggered out of the bar with all the other nuts who decided to make it till closing time. Damn, it was cold! I couldn’t wait to get into my car, flip on the heat and head for home. It seemed so far away and I actually contemplated not driving. But I just needed to sleep in my own warm comfortable bed. It was my choice, so I started for home.

I was so tired and weary, that I don’t remember much of the trip home. I recall vaguely, getting off of the Beltway and thinking to myself, "a few more minutes and I’ll be home. Just a few more."

The next thing I knew, there was a loud crashing noise. The sound of metal scraping concrete filled my ears. As I came back into consciousness, all I saw was a flash of white in front of me. Then I realized that the flash of white was my air bag exploding. A burning smell filled my nostrils and a white powdery substance filled the inside of my car. I had to get out! I couldn’t breathe any more. I tried to get out of the driver’s side door; a man appeared and helped me out of the car. He asked me if I was O.K., and after thinking about it for a minute I realized I wasn’t hurt. I turned back to look at my car. It was in bad shape. My car was sitting up on the median strip and the entire driver’s side smashed to pieces. "What had I done?" The tears started to well up in my eyes, but I choked back the tears. The man that had come to my rescue offered me the use of his phone, which I graciously accepted. I don’t even recall his name.

It was 2:30 a.m. "Honey," I said in a low voice. "Please come and get me. I really screwed up."

The voice on the other end was Dana, my fiancée. His voice was so comforting and calm. He should have been so angry at me, but he wasn’t. Dana’s only concern was for my safety and well-being. Within seconds he was on his way.

I walked back outside to wait for Dana and was greeted by flashing lights and the sound of a police radio. At that point, reality was starting to set in. The officer standing in front of me did not look friendly. The interrogation was about to begin.

Have you been drinking, speeding? Where are you coming from? Where are you going? The questions seemed endless. At first, I thought that maybe I wouldn’t admit that I had been drinking. Then I remembered seeing the show "Cops" on television, so I decided that I had better be honest. I abruptly explained to the officer that I had been drinking, but I was a single mom who works night shift and never has the chance to go anywhere. And I never drink and drive. With that, the officer asked me to stand on one foot. After laughing for a moment, I realized the officer found no humor in me. I knew that even sober, I wouldn’t be able to stand on one foot without falling over. I started to cry. I told the officer it was no use, he might as well just arrest me. Crying even harder, I put my wrists out for the officer to slap the cuffs on. The officer just looked at me as though I was pathetic. He told me to sit down! I sat there on the curb shivering in the cold while the officer phoned into the police station with my driver’s license information.

Finally, Dana pulled onto the scene. I was happy to see him. I needed a familiar face, someone who was on my side. Dana ran over to me to make sure that I was all right. He hugged me tightly and told me everything would be O.K. He asked me to sit back down while he talked to the officer.

Dana was wonderful. He was calm, cool and collected as he spoke to the police officer. I have no idea what he said to him, but whatever it was it worked. I guess between my clean driving record and what Dana had to say to the officer, he decided to let me go home. Thank God no one had gotten hurt.

Within minutes the wrecker arrived. It was a big red truck with a long movable bed in the back. Two sloppy looking guys hopped out and started hooking chains to the underneath of my car. Oil and fluids were everywhere. Moments later, the silence of the morning was broken by the sound of scraping metal and plastic as my car was hoisted up onto the bed of the truck. Dana held me tight as the tears welled up in my eyes. "Would I ever have my car back again?" There was a sinking feeling in my stomach as I replayed the events of the night in my head. Everyone was sure that it would be totaled. My beautiful car. I had worked so hard to be in the position to purchase such a car. What had I done!

As the tow truck was pulling away, the officer informed us that we needed to provide insurance information. Dana assured the officer that we had any information that was needed at home. The officer then instructed Dana to take me home and he would follow us back to the house. We walked thought the front door and within seconds Dana had supplied the documents that were needed. As the officer turned to leave he hesitated for a moment, looked me straight in the eye and gave me a lecture on driving and driving. He also made it quite clear that for all intents and purposes he really should have taken me in. I didn’t say a word as Dana shook his hand and assured that this would never happen again. The officer then turned and left without even so much as a written warning. We were so relieved. What were the odds of that? I thanked God that I had not hurt anyone else and that I not gone to jail.

In retrospect, that evening taught me a few very valuable lessons. I could have killed myself or worse, someone else. I feel very fortunate that was not the case. The next time I go out I will have a designated driver. One irresponsible night out could change your life and the lives of others forever.