Accidental Ambivalence

Questions and Wonder

When I was a freshman in college, four high school students in my hometown were in a car accident the night before Thanksgiving. Three of those students worked for my parents - and therefore with me, on weekends - so I had some interest in the circumstances and outcomes of the situation. Three boys and a girl. They were in her car, though she wasn't driving. We'd had an early freeze, so there were patches of ice to watch out for on the rural highway they were traveling.

Racing on, actually. Because that's one of the things that particular hilly, straight stretch of rural highway is good for. I have to admit that I've done it, too. However, I didn't do it driving someone else's car after I'd been drinking. That was, unfortunately, the combination of circumstances that led to the accident that Wednesday evening.

Everyone but the driver was ejected from the vehicle, despite later claims that everyone had been wearing seatbelts. Their shoes were literally pulled from their feet by the force, because they were each found barefoot in the middle of the cold pasture on the west side of the road. One of the boys suffered a broken arm and collarbone. Another boy suffered a broken femur that punctured the skin. He later needed skin grafts, like a burn victim, to repair skin that split when it swelled too quickly to stretch. The girl died, instantly they believe, of a broken neck.

The driver walked away with a mild concussion and some bruises.

As weeks slipped by, more information started to come out, most notably that the 18-year-old driver had been drinking earlier in the evening and had been driving recklessly (well over 90 mph) despite the iffy road conditions. The girl's family agreed to press charges. The other boys involved in the accident were in the impossible position of saying things about their friend that were true but had the potential to destroy his life; of course, they'd also lost a friend in the girl.

Things were long and drawn out, and I honestly can't remember what the outcome was. He may have been fined or sentenced to community service, though I don't believe he was ever sentenced to spend time in prison. He was a kid known for recklessness and a bad attitude, and popular opinion seemed to run pretty consistently to the burn-him-at-the-stake position. I thought he should be expected to pay for his poor decisions. I didn't thinking that living with the knowledge that he was at least partially responsible for killing her, his friend, an eighteen-year-old high school student, was enough punishment.

Now, it's less clear.

Without consequences, our choices are all ego-driven. Without the positive consequence of money, many of us wouldn't go to work each day. Without the negative consequence of losing recess time, kindergarten students would chatter constantly. We forget that consequence is a neutral word, but perhaps that's because negative consequences seem to carry more weight in the human psyche. We are more concerned about punishments than we are rewards. But that's another discussion.

Whatever the eventual outside consequences for his actions were, the driver still has to live every day knowing that he contributed to the death of another person. He now manages the meat department at the local grocery store, so I see him fairly regularly, both in my own shopping and in running occasional errands for my parents' restaurant. I'm not sure that he was ever a young man who was destined for "great things," but I wonder if he could have attained more without this set of circumstances hanging over his head.

He and this girl had dated a time or two, in that small town, high school way, in which, I think, teenagers go back to the same person over and over because there aren't any other options. I can't remember if they were on or off. Maybe he was in love with her. Maybe he wasn't, but on some level he had to care.

Every time I see him, I think about her, but because I wonder how he copes with that knowledge. I wonder what it was like to grieve when so many were placing the blame squarely on his shoulders. I wonder if he ever feels like people are still blaming him, because I know how near impossible it is to ever escape your past in your hometown. I sometimes wonder if I shouldn't take an extra minute to be kind to him, if he would be appreciative or confused or annoyed.

I wonder if he realizes that someone he barely knows spends this much energy thinking about him.

Labels: everyday musings

posted by nicalyse @ 2:01 PM