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Beware Of Terrorists? Beware of Motorists! By Mike Thompson
Take a guess: How would you describe the statistical odds that your eventual death will come in an auto crash? Previously, I would have supposed that it’s maybe one in 1,000, something in that range. But some basic research reveals that the odds are far steeper. How about one in 83? This isn’t one of those wild statistics that we can’t really trust. It comes from Reason magazine, which figures out stuff like this. In fact, if you are a computer user, here’s the article: http://reason.com/archives/2006/08/11/dont-be-terrorized Actually, the article’s main topic is that our odds of being killed by a terrorist are less than our odds of drowning or being killed in a fire, much less being killed in an auto crash. That’s where the one-in-83 gem appears. This little eye-opening stat also is employed in literature produced by the National Safety Council. Somehow, still, it seems we are more scared of terrorists than we are scared of our fellow and sister motorists. The reason for my research is for the first time a few weeks ago, it felt like I could have become among the one in 83.
Like a Bunch of NASCAR Nuts
My encounter was early afternoon on Monday, Jan. 11. Yours truly wasn’t out on a highway or byway, or even on Bay Road. In fact, I had just visited City Hall, of all places, to pay the family’s water bill. The next destination was Consumers Energy on Weiss, to pay the family’s utility bill. Such an innocent afternoon this was. Ah, yes, but it was snowing. Or more like, flurrying. Not a big squall, like we had in the second week of February. But the flurries had been steady, falling since before dawn, enough to cover the streets. In fact, as I departed City Hall and crossed the Holland Bridge toward North Michigan. I noticed that the dumb motorists who don’t know how to slow down in the snow (one in four? one in six?) were fishtailing all over the place. These were mostly the SUVs and the vans, propelled by motorists who somehow perceive that they are immune and protected within their massive enclosures. But there were some regular mid-sized cars that were swerving as well. North Michigan was just as bad, as had been Washington Avenue on the other side of the river. My first thought was: Idiots! My second thought was: It seems that The City hasn’t salted the streets. Why could this be? Possibly tax-cap revenge? My third thought, at 20 mph in the right-hand lane, was: Please just let me make it back home. Then, within a split second, an oncoming vehicle was skating sideways into my small truck’s front end. There was no time to react. So this is what a car crash is like?
I’m Okay .... Somehow!
Now my truck was sideways in the snow bank in front of the Total/Marathon gas station, a little bit north of the Covenant HealthSource campus and Bliss Park. I’ve gotta be hurt. Well, no, I wasn’t. How could this be? Turns out an MMR ambulance, of all things, had been behind me. The ambulance rear-ended me at the same time as the spinning motorist front-ended me. Therefore, the impacts must have neutralized one another. This was sort of like when we see a football runner who is hit simultaneously from both sides, and both tacklers bounce off while the guy keeps running. The MMR driver was okay. The perpetrating motorist had to go to the hospital but eventually was okay, too. In forcing my door open and standing at the scene, I looked toward the old St. Luke’s Hospital, toward the window where my mother would always point and say, “Michael, that’s the room where you were born.” Mayor Branch, who lives a tad south of my crash site, says he also remembers the conditions on that day. He is quite sure that The City had salted the main streets by noon, and, no, The City has not cut the salt budget. I don’t know. The police officer who showed up seemed to perceive that with all the spinning and fishtailing that was happening, salt had not been laid. The officer seemed more concerned about me getting my totaled old Blazer towed from the road than he was concerned about me personally – a move that won’t go far as The City asks voters to restore and increase the special public safety tax. As for the salt, like I said, I don’t know. Tom Darnell, who runs the city’s public works, was unavailable through three days of calls and e-mails. Brian Wendling says the County Road Commission is using less salt, but is offsetting this change by purchasing a recently developed form of salt brine liquid.
Killing Ourselves, Day After Day
Salt or no salt, the main question is, why do so many among us drive so foolishly? I realize this is not the manliest question for a fellow to pose. But this is a question I’ve always asked, even before January 11th, which now will be my personal “1/11.” To me, in all of journalism, dangerous driving is among the most ignored and overlooked stories. The annual number of United States traffic deaths always falls at between 40,000 and 45,000, year after year after year. For comparison’s sake, about 3,000 people were killed by alQaeda’s suicide pilots on that day we all remember. We always hear that we should eat right and exercise and quit smoking and control the drinking, all well and good; but why are we so rarely told that we should drive safely? We hear about drunken driving, which indeed is a bane to society, but apparently that makes stupid sober driving become overlooked. Drunks weren’t operating all those fishtailing vehicles on that early Monday afternoon of January 11, sashaying and spinning out while trying to do 40 mph on an ice rink. More likely, some of those drivers had consumed too much coffee. Maybe there should be Breathalyzer for caffeine, too. My crash wasn’t high-speed, but still, it was violent. My little old truck ended up folded like an accordion. Memories emerged of a driver’s training instructor back in 1971 who told our class that even if you are cruising at a seemingly slow-poke 30 mph, if you crash headlong into a tree or a concrete abutment, that’s the same impact as driving off the top of a six-story building and spiraling downward into the pavement.
The Light Is Red. Why Hurry?
A certain scenario occurs virtually every time I’m on the road. A few blocks ahead, the traffic light turns yellow. I’m in the right-hand slow lane, take my foot off the pedal and start to coast. After all, this saves gas, correct? There actually will be morons behind me who will pull out, accelerate past me in the left lane, and then brake hard at the light. A few seconds later, old-man me will cruise up to the same light, stop softly alongside them, and sort of cast a side glance to see if there truly is a human being behind the wheel. What did they gain, time wise? Why are they so tense, so intensively tense? In closing, I don’t really have any sort of thundering insight to offer. Basically it’s, duh, wouldn’t it be a good idea to slow down a little, especially when the roads are slick? Duh, don’t you see everyone else spinning all over the place? Why the rush? One of you is now costing me $230 a month in payments for a replacement vehicle, and you could have cost me my life.
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