Owner Operator

My first time driving my own car was nearly my last. I was on my way to the mechanic, a thirty minute trip down I-80. I was nineteen and I had only recently received my license. Other than the private driving school I attended, I had little to no experience behind the wheel. Nevertheless, I knew the basics and I was confident that I could handle a straightforward run.

Halfway down the highway, I made the first in a series of bad choices. My mother, who had been riding in a separate car, called me on my cell phone. This was in the days before smartphones. Cars didn’t come with built-in bluetooth. All I had was an earpiece that plugged into my phone. In my naivety, I attempted to put on the earpiece while driving. It proved more cumbersome than I had anticipated, so I glanced down for what seemed like a second. Suddenly, a horn blared from behind me. I looked up and found my car had drifted into the adjacent lane. For my next bad decision, I bucked the wheel to the left in an effort to right my vehicle, but I had turned the wheel too hard, sending my car swerving across two lanes. Panic took hold of me. I bucked the wheel again, this time to the right, darting back across the highway. I slammed on the break sending my car into a spin. Time seemed to halt. I felt every terrifying second. Eventually, my car came to a stop. How had I not hit anyone? I looked outside the driver side window. I was perpendicular to the highway, and a line of cars were barreling down the road; they would be on me in seconds. Fear gave way to instinct, and I managed to orient my car back to the road. I pulled over onto the shoulder just as the line of cars shot past me.

My initial thoughts were of my mother. Had she seen what happened? Was she one of the cars that blew past? I had ignored her suggestion to drive with me. I wanted to prove that I could do it on my own. How mad was she going to be? Out nowhere, a woman appeared; the hazards from her car blinked a few yards ahead. I rolled down my window. I didn’t know whether she was the person who first honked at me or just a considerate bystander, but I confessed my sins to her nonetheless. Afterwards, she gave me a knowing smirk. She expressed her relief over my safety and returned to her car at my insistence. After she drove away, I sat by the side of the road for a long while, too foolish to be scared and too proud to call for help. In the end, I caved and called my mother. She was more relieved than mad. She helped me call a tow truck to take me the rest of the way. At the mechanic, I learned there was more to my accident than mere distraction.

As I previously mentioned, I had earned my license at the age of nineteen, much later than most kids in my state. My car, which had been gifted to me by my late grandmother, had been sitting in the driveway, untouched for years (that’s bad decision number five for those keeping count). That neglect had worn away the rubber of the tires, so, when I jerked the wheel at sixty-five miles per hour, the tires popped, adding to my loss of control. Studies into vehicle related deaths always seem to emphasize the consequences of driver error, such as distraction, speeding, or intoxication. Driving courses dedicate the bulk of their instruction to operating the vehicle. But none of these instructions teach us how to maintain a vehicle.

Being a safe driver starts long before you ever set out on the road. A vehicle’s tires, windshield, brakes, and fluids are integral parts of its system that if left unserviced can compromise vehicle integrity and thus driver safety. How do you know when it’s time to replace your brakes? How often should you check the air and tread of your tires? Do you know what happens if you run out of oil or coolant? Even something as simple as a frayed windshield wiper or the wrong kind of cleaning fluid can alter visibility on a rainy day. I literally knew nothing about my car when I set out on the road that day. In healthcare, we’re taught that it’s not enough to simply treat the disease; we need to treat the whole person. Driving related deaths are an epidemic in this country. By expanding driver education to include maintenance as well as operation we arm ourselves with the knowledge to prevent accidents before they happen. This is doubly important in the wake of states, like my own, who have relaxed their inspection standards so as to only require emissions testing, not safety. I am lucky to be alive. Countless others have not been. In this country, driving is touted as a rite of passage. It’s a celebration of freedom, and, as such, is not always approached with the caution it deserves. Driving is a responsibility, one we must own as fully as the vehicles we operate.