Twenty Minutes that Changed my Life

(The following testimonial was shared with me a few years ago; it’s ghastly “Food for Thought”)

I have had a problem with driving for a long time: other drivers. I can be perfectly content to go 15 in a school zone or 55 on the highway, as long as I am not behind someone else. For some reason, though, getting behind someone who goes the speed limit, or worse, a few miles per hour under it, really sets me off. Some days it has been so bad that I really feel like I shouldn't be behind the wheel at all. This was one of those days.

The morning started like most any other. I hit the snooze button one too many times and was running about ten minutes late. I've never liked being late. Something in my psyche just can't handle being late, even if I know I will be the first one there and no one else will even know. That's something I have to work on.

I was out the door on time, though, and started the 20 minute commute to the office. The ride was pretty smooth until I got to the last couple of miles. I fell in behind someone in a van who was going 25 in the 35 zone and refused to speed up or pull over. That REALLY set me going. Wasn't long before I was right up against his bumper (maybe he will see me and realize that he's going too slow?). He saw me, all right, and tapped his brakes a couple of times. Yeah, right, buddy, I'm not scared of your brake lights. By the time we got to the next major intersection, about a mile up the road, I was livid. I had called him every name in the book and my blood pressure had to be about doubled. At the light, he made the right turn while I went straight. I made the point of laying on the horn as I passed, to make sure he knew I was pissed. Then I sped on down the road.

I will never know why that little girl had to dart out from between the cars at that instant. Maybe she had a problem being late for the school bus, even though it was nowhere in sight. At 40 mph (in the 25 zone), there was no way I could stop in time. I felt the "clunk" with every fiber in my body. Praying and hoping as I jumped from my car, my heart dropped as I saw her crumpled in the road. Please God, let her just be stunned. I didn't mean to hurt anybody. I didn't even need to be rushing. PLEASE give me a break here, God!

I called 911 and waited, afraid to move her for fear of making something worse. I couldn't tell if she was breathing or not. I was blocking the road and a crowd started to gather. No one ever wants to see a child hurt; some folks were crying--I was one of them. A police car was almost too quick to arrive and the officer quickly assessed the girl. The paramedics were not far behind, and though I could not hear what they were saying, I could tell from their expressions that things didn't look good.

The police officer took me to the side. "I was behind you the whole last mile, while you were tail-gaiting that van. You were speeding after you got around him, too. What was the rush? I hope it was important, because you may have just killed that girl."

From that moment, things are a blur. I vaguely remember being cuffed and put in the patrol car, the booking process, calling my wife, getting bail posted, and going home. I was totally numb. I remember the agony of hearing that the girl had died from her injuries, news I received as I was sitting home with my own daughter.

With her death came charges of negligent vehicular homicide. My lawyer said I should plead not guilty and we would try to build a defense around my being stressed by things at home. I knew the truth though: I took somebody's little girl away forever FOR NO GOOD REASON. I deserved to be punished, though there was no way the authorities could punish me the way I was punishing myself, the way I was punishing my family.

The plea deal my attorney worked with the D.A. meant I have to spend two years in jail. I lost my job, of course, and without my income, my family lost everything--our house and most of our possessions. My wife and daughter moved in with her parents and tried to pick up and get on with their lives. I don't know what our lives will be like when I get out of here. I know my relationship with her will never be the same. I will never get a job as good as the one I had, now that I have a felony conviction.

I have re-lived that 20 minute period a thousand times in my head. I don't know why I had such a problem with being impatient behind the wheel, but I am certain that the problem is cured now for good. I so wish it hadn't taken such a horrible event to teach me what I should have already known...what my wife had been telling me for years. I just hope that someone else can learn from my experience before another innocent person has to die and the lives of two families have to be destroyed forever.

Note: This is a true story with a fictional ending. I thank God and the police officer who stopped me that morning and told me "you need to calm yourself down....". When the realization of the risk I was taking fully hit me, I broke down and cried. From that day, whenever I start to feel that impatient urge, I tell myself "Twenty Minutes" and remember the potential life changing consequences...it slows me right down.