Drunk Drivers

I had the most unnerving experience driving home tonight from work at about 9 PM. (Yes, I work late some nights, but don’t roll into work until noon most days.)

I go home via a long, winding, country road which is beautiful by moonlight. I pass farms, fields, barns, stately old Maine colonial homes, ramshackle cottages with lobster traps and junk all over their yards, coastal inlets, deer, foxes, and all things wild and natural. The trip home is usually a lovely site-seeing interval after an intense work day. Not tonight.

I was directly behind someone in a pickup truck who at first seemed to be doing some site-seeing of their own, weaving back and forth in the lane. Before long, they were veering into the oncoming traffic lane, then all the way back, almost into the snow ditch, barely avoiding utility poles and mailboxes. It was obviously a very drunk driver, having trouble staying on the road, but too drunk to get off the road, and out of harm’s way. I noted the license plate, called 911, and reported the event, thinking I’d be ruining this driver’s night, but the alternative was deadly. From the comfort and anonymity of my car, this was an easy choice.

It made me wonder, however, if I’d have the courage to stand up alone, and speak up in a not so anonymous situation, if I were witness to some reckless or unconscionable act.

I’d like to think so. Would you?

Always,

Susan Lager

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