Yesterday, November 15, 2011, was the 2-year anniversary of when Assistant Principal Ms. Mickey Reynolds lost her sister after a distracted driving accident. Reynolds pleads:
“[…] put away distractions while you are driving. You cannot imagine the heartbreak and pain that can be caused by a few seconds of looking down at your phone. No message is that important, but your lives are that important to all those who know and love you.”
In an effort to spread the word about these dangers, Reynolds’ sister Tracy wrote the following editorial on the 1-year anniversary of the accident. Please read and share with your friends and family members. Reynolds adds, “Thank you for helping to keep yourselves and your family and friends safe!”
(The name of the distracted driver has been omitted to maintain privacy).
“Last April, I met the woman who killed my sister. We met in a corridor in the Seminole County Courthouse; it was a moment I’d been dreading for months. I’d been subpoenaed, along with my son and my niece, to appear in traffic court as a witness to the accident that took my sister’s life.
“The accident itself happened a year ago, on November 15, 2009. It felt like such an ordinary Sunday. I’d slept late and caught up on laundry before preparing to go to my parents’ for dinner. In hindsight, though, every choice that day seems critical. My son was having trouble awaking from a nap, so I decided to let him sleep fifteen more minutes. I usually take I-4, but my sister needed to stop by a friend’s house so I decided to take back roads. When I stopped at a traffic light, my son asked me to change the radio station, and I decided to comply. The light turned green and I must have decided to go, but I don’t remember that choice. A year later, my memory of the next few hours remains a blank. These were not thoughtful decisions. They all seemed so innocuous, but they put me at a specific place at a specific time.
“[The driver], age 52, of Fredricksburg, Virginia, made choices that day too. She chose to visit her father in Sanford, and to leave a few minutes before 6:00. She chose to travel west on SR 46, toward the interstate and into the setting sun. An emergency responder reported that she chose to text a message, though she claims not to know what happened. Certainly, she didn’t choose to run the light, or to hit my car as it crossed the intersection; to hit it going 45 mph without ever hitting the brakes. To hit it with such force I was pushed the length of two football fields down the road before crashing through a fence and a stop sign and a ditch. Certainly, she didn’t consciously choose to take a life on such an ordinary Sunday evening.
“Choices have consequences, and the consequences of [the driver]’s actions on my family have been severe. I bear a scar on my forehead; my son bears three on his face. He was the only one who remained conscious throughout, and he will bear those memories for a lifetime. My niece lost memories that day: this the result of a cracked skull. And, she lost her mother. My parents lost a child; my two remaining sisters and I lost a source of love and support we’d relied upon our whole lives.
“And what of [the driver]? What were her consequences? I was angry when I learned that no criminal charges would be filed. There is no law against texting while driving in Florida, so there was only a citation and a required appearance in traffic court. The judge began by asking if anyone planned to plead No Contest; a lawyer stepped forward and spoke [the driver]’s name. The judge looked over a file for no more than three minutes, declared that there were no previous infractions, and sentenced her to four hours of traffic school. Traffic school? Was it possible that there were no real consequences for such grave carelessness? I was still stunned as I stood in the corridor, alone with two children.
“Then, I met exactly what I’d been dreading: a woman a little older than myself who was smartly dressed and had a kind face. She told me she’d gone back to school—for nursing, I think—and spoke of her work in the church. She was not a woman I could easily vilify; she could have been any one of many women I know; she could have been me. And though I remain angry that the legal system failed to acknowledge such a grievous wrong, it was clear on that day that [the driver] has not gone unpunished. Her daughter told me she’d been on suicide watch after the accident. [The driver] herself told me she would understand if I filed a wrongful death lawsuit, to do what I felt was just. There was desperation in her apologies, and the sight of my niece was almost too much for her to bear. She wept openly and was reluctant to leave. She was a broken woman, transformed by grief.
“One year ago, on November 24, 2009, over one thousand people attended my sister’s memorial service. They came from as far away as California and Washington State. They came because they’d been touched by her directly, or through a member of my family. It was a moving tribute, but it was also a testament to how far the consequences of a careless choice can reach. My sister, though, was a woman of hope. I believe she would remind us that choices don’t have to be careless. We can live thoughtfully, as she did, so that our decisions help rather than harm. That’s how my sister lived. And here’s how I choose to live: I choose to learn from my sister’s death and take inspiration from her life. I choose.”