A Father's Awful Lesson About The Risk

By Timothy Hollister

Published 3/2/09

THE DAY MY SON, THEN 161/2, graduated from his learner's permit to his driver's license was a day of achievement, independence, relief, and pride.

Achievement because he had certifiably learned what the state of Connecticut requires a teenager to know to operate a car safely on the state's roads. Independence because he could now transport himself to school, activities and friends' homes. Relief because I was now out from under the burden of being his chauffeur and he was now available to assist us with any chore that required driving. And pride because, well, as parents we revel in the accomplishments of our children, don't we?

It was also a day of relief because in my typical struggles with my teenager, I now had more leverage: I had the car keys.

I was so drawn in by all of this that I agreed that, mostly with his own money, Reid could buy a used car, a safe, sturdy, seven-year-old Volvo.

At that time, I considered myself a reasonably well-informed parent, aware of Connecticut's “Graduated Driver's Licensing” including the midnight curfew, the passenger restrictions, and the seat-belt laws. I was doing the right things to protect my son from alcohol and drugs, and I had overlaid my own safety rules on the state's, such as checking in regularly while he was out and submitting to inspection when he came home.

In those first few months, for the most part he did well, but on those occasions when he violated our rules, I confiscated the keys and on two occasions I actually confiscated the car. When he got a ticket for changing lanes without signaling, he paid the fine. When he got another ticket for going 42 mph in a 25 mph zone, he paid again, and then the Department of Motor Vehicles called him in for a retraining class. So, the road after that initial license day was bumpy, but he and I were navigating and learning what compliance means.

My perspective has changed since my son's memorial service. Reid died in December 2006, 11 months after getting his license, in a one-car accident at Exit 34 on Interstate 84 East in Plainville. He went too far into the right turn past Exit 33, probably over the speed limit, overcorrected, went into a spin, and hit a guardrail. His two passengers suffered injuries but have recovered.

He died the day before his DMV retraining class.

The word “lucky” does not belong in any sentence that includes my name, but as I have read carefully every news report of a teen driver fatality since Reid's accident, I guess I am “less burdened” than some.

When Reid died, he was not operating a high performance vehicle. He was not using drugs or alcohol, which a blood test confirmed. He was not talking on his cell phone. His accident occurred at 10:30 p.m., well within the state's curfew. It was a warm night with no snow or ice. He had been permitted to have passengers for five months.

But I have learned that teen driving is much riskier than I appreciated in 2006. Even under the best circumstances, and even in full compliance with Connecticut's teen driving laws as they exist today, teen driving is statistically, demonstrably dangerous. The independence, achievement, relief, and pride were seductions that masked the facts.

Connecticut issues 36,000 learner's permits every year. In Connecticut in 2006, teen drivers caused 50 deaths. When a young driver has even one passenger who is not an instructor or family member, crash rates and fatalities rise significantly.

Connecticut's 20-hour instruction requirement is among the lowest in the United States. Crash rates for teens are 40 percent higher than for the safest age group, 35- to 49-year-olds. And regardless of how much or how well we train them, teens biologically do not appreciate or handle risks as well as older drivers.

Gov. M. Jodi Rell's new Teen Safe Driving Task Force, of which I am privileged to be a member, has made a series of recommendations for changes in the graduated license laws, including more driving hours (50 instead of 20), an earlier (11 p.m.) curfew, closing a loophole in the seat belt law, extending the restrictions on passengers from six months to one year, and most importantly, mandatory suspensions, of increasing lengths, for moving violations.

The task force is currently working on long-term recommendations such as a required parent education class, greater enforcement tools for police and prosecutors, and a more detailed curriculum for teen drivers.

There is a mountain of research available on teen driving; the causes of crashes and fatalities and what we can do to reduce them are perfectly clear. The only question is whether we have the political will to do what the data say we should.

While the legislature ponders state statutes, far be it from me to offer advice, much less dictate, to parents. I only feel justified in urging parents to more thoroughly educate themselves about the actual dangers of teen driving.

Judgments should be based on a wide-eyed appreciation of the facts. The state's existing laws are not enough. The proposed changes will make them better, but teenage driving is and will remain dangerous, period.

As a task force member, I have heard driving instructors talk about parents who yell at them when they advise that their teen is not ready to drive. I have heard parents say that their “system” is to comply with the state's laws — and pray. I've heard parents concede that their child got a ride from a teen whose age or license status they did not know. Seduction seems to be at work every day. We need to peel back that veil.