When teens' deaths speak beyond the facts
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New temptations are hard to resist, and even new habits are hard to break, because the new becomes necessary so fast.
It was only three or four years ago that I cautiously passed a car on the highway, having been nearly sideswiped by the same car just seconds before, and glanced over to see that the erratic driver was texting while driving.
I was stunned. How could anyone do such a stupid and dangerous thing?
Saturday, Downtown, typical weekend whirlwind: Picking up my daughter from dance class and heading off to her play practice, I had to let her dad know her cell phone had just shattered and ask her voice teacher if we could reschedule the 4 p.m. lesson.
Plan: Text her dad, call her teacher. On the Boulevard of the Allies I reached for my cell phone and seconds later, at a red light, I started to type.
"Green light," my daughter prompted. My feet went into motion before my thumbs stopped theirs, but just in time, I remembered Alexis Summers and set my not-so-smart phone back down. What was wrong with me?
Countless radio newscasts last week began with the tragic story of the beautiful 17-year-old's death Tuesday night in a single-car crash, just hours after the state Legislature sent the governor a bill that bans texting while driving. Officials believe Alexis veered off the road as she was typing a reply to a girlfriend's question about cheerleading practice.
My 16-year-old, who's just now learning to drive, had not heard the sad news. "We should say a prayer for her family," she said.
Simply trying to imagine another parent's grief is overwhelming. The weight of it must be unbearable.
The last time I reported on a young person's death was in 2003, when 17-year-old Thomas Henderson, an academic and athletic star at North Allegheny Senior High School, died when his truck crossed the center line on Flaugherty Run Road and struck another car head-on. The other driver, Patricia Jones, 50, of Ambridge, also died at the scene.
Thomas was headed to the airport to pick up his dad. It was the first day of his senior year.
By April 2005, Tom's infectious smile was beaming from billboards around the city. After death, his story and image were part of a statewide ad campaign for life.
When getting his driver's license, Thomas had surprised his parents by checking the organ donor box. That's because the Hendersons are African-American, and due to various factors -- including deeply held religious beliefs and historic distrust of the medical community -- fewer blacks register as organ donors than do members of other ethnic and racial groups.
First Published November 7, 2011 12:00 am
