Simoneaux: What I’d have told the trooper after your wreck

By Larry Simoneaux

Washington state’s new distracted driver law is now in effect. It’s a tough law and yet another effort to get people to just put their damned phones down while driving.

Whether it will help or not remains to be seen and I remain skeptical. Still, one can hope. I wrote the following almost 10 years ago. Sadly, not much has changed since then. Likely never will.

Never saw me, did you?

I saw you though. Small, newer model car. German made. Four-door version. Tan or light brown paint job. Nice looking ride. Expensive, I’d bet.

We were southbound on I-5 and had just passed Alderwood mall. No speeding involved. I was doing, maybe, 62. You must have been just under the speed limit. You were in the right lane. I was behind you in the center lane with an 18-wheeler coming up on me.

More on him later.

The reason I could see you so well was that I was in my pickup. It sits high. A Dodge Ram. Blue with gray trim. Kind of hard to miss. You did it, though. You never saw me.

As I came up on you, I was checking my driver’s side mirror to find out where that 18-wheeler behind me had disappeared to. Now that was a big truck. One of those droop-nosed Kenworth models. Lots of chrome and steel plus a whole bunch of speed, energy, mass and momentum looking for a place to go.

When I found him, he’d moved into the left lane and was going to pass me. That’s when I looked back and saw you do something incredibly stupid. And doing it caused you to drift into my lane.

Ever watch NASCAR racing? Ever see what happens when one car “taps” the right or left rear fender of the car in front of it? That’s when physics and the basic laws of motion take over. The bad news is that the rear end of the “tapped” car is displaced and the driver of that car loses directional control.

The bad news gets worse. All of the speed and energy in that now out-of-control car takes it places the driver never wants it to go. In NASCAR, that’s usually into a wall or into other cars nearby. Race cars, however, have steel roll-cages and five-point harnesses to protect the driver. I noticed none of those in your car.

To return to our situation, what was about to happen was that the left rear fender of your car was about to hit the right front bumper of my truck. This, as noted, would’ve resulted in a “tap” and likely caused you to spin out.

I couldn’t go left because that 18-wheeler was almost on me. I couldn’t go right because that’s where you were. So I got on the brakes. You never saw that either.

By the way, that cell phone you were holding against your left ear was one of those that sends and receives pictures wasn’t it? The conversation must’ve been great too. As I came up on you, I’d also noticed that you were laughing and taking your right hand off the wheel every now and then to make a point about something or other.

Then — just when I was about even with your rear fender — you did it. You took the phone from your ear to look at whatever was on your screen. At 60 mph. On the interstate. And you slid into my lane.

Which was when I slowed down and pulled in behind the 18-wheeler. Because I wanted nothing more to do with you. And you never knew how close a thing it was.

I hope that phone call was important. That it was news you’d been waiting all your life to hear. Because it could have been the last thing you ever heard. Because, after I’d have spun you out, your car could’ve ended up in front of an 18-wheeler that was just about to pass me. And you’d have been broadside to it at the point of impact.

Ever seen a Kenworth from that point of view? Me neither. But you almost did.

If you had, I’d have told the investigating trooper that you were merrily gabbing away on a cell phone instead of paying attention to driving your car. If you had, I’d have told the truck driver there was absolutely nothing he could’ve done because, at the time of the accident, your mind and your eyes were certainly not on the road or what was around you.

Do you believe in guardian angels? If not, you should.

Oh, and just one last thing. The kid in the car seat.

Couldn’t have been more than a year old, right?

Right.

Dammit.

Email Larry Simoneaux at larrysim@comcast.net.