NO COMPASSION FOR DRUNK DRIVERS

In this essay, Simon writes an outraged reply to a television program about drunken driving (produced and narrated by the guilty party, a Washington, D.C., television reporter, as part of his punishment), condemning the show as self-serving and dishonest. Simon’s real target, however, is drunken drivers themselves. His view is angry and uncompromising in the extreme.

I would like to make an admission up front: I have a thing about drunken drivers.

I hate them. I really hate them. Every time I read about another innocent person slaughtered by a drunken driver, I become enraged.

So when I saw the nationally broadcast PBS special on drunken driving last week, I did not react as many did. I did not think it was sensitive and forthright.

I did not react as Phil Donahue, the host, did when he came on at the end and said: "I was enormously moved by this documentary, as I'm sure you were."

Not me, Phil. I wanted to kick in the set.

I was plenty moved for the victims. I was plenty moved for the people who were crippled, paralysed, reduced to vegetables or killed. But the drunken drivers themselves did not move me. I thought most got off real easy.

First, let me tell you about the magnitude of the problem. Some­one is killed by a drunken driver every 20 minutes in this country. On any given weekend night, on any road in America, 1 out of every 10 drivers is drunk.

Which is why drunken drivers will continue to get off easy. Because so many of the lawmakers, so many of the jurors, so many of the judges have driven drunk themselves. They have a certain amount of sympathy for those who get caught.

The purpose of the documentary, called "Drinking and Driving: The Toll, The Tears," was to show that drunken drivers don't get off easy. Sometimes they go to jail and sometimes they lose their licenses and sometimes they lose their jobs, we were told.

But, in reality, they rarely do. Most drunken drivers get away with it. If they are caught, and few are, most go out and hire the best lawyers they can afford in order to beat the rap.

The element that made this documentary special is that it was produced and written by Kelly Burke, 39, a Washington, D.C., television reporter. At 6:17 a.m. on July 1, 1984, after having 6 to 11 glasses of wine, Burke crossed the center line in his van and crashed head-on into a pick-up truck driven by Dennis Crouch, 32, who was on his way to Army Reserve training.

Crouch was killed, leaving behind a son and a wife who was 8 months pregnant.

After the accident, Burke's lawyer told reporters: "It's our feeling that there's a defense no matter what charges come down." That line wasn't in the documentary, of course.

Burke's lawyer did a heck of a fine job, by the way. He was worth whatever he cost, because Burke's case was plea-bargained. In return for a guilty plea, the charge of homicide with a motor vehicle while intoxicated was dropped. Instead, Burke pleaded guilty to charges of driving under the influence and failing to stay in the proper lane.

His driver's license was revoked. He was sentenced to two years of unsupervised probation, fined $500 and ordered to produce a documentary on the results of drinking and driving.

But having seen his documentary, I get the impression that one of the big results of drinking and driving for Burke was getting exposure on national TV.

The show, which he also narrates, uses a lot of euphemisms. Drivers are "impaired" after "imbibing." In one case, we are told that a drunken driver who killed a family of five "didn't mean it; he didn't even remember it happening."

But didn't he mean it? Don't all drunken drivers mean it? If you drink 6 to 11 glasses of wine, as Burke did, and then get behind the wheel, just what is it you do mean?

In the last segment, Burke comes on the screen. He stands there in a nice suit and there is very dramatic background music. He tells us about a driver who pleaded guilty to driving under the influence of alcohol. This driver had worked "long hours and began celebrating." And then this driver crashed into a guy and he now suffers a "melancholy paradoxically like that of the victims."

And, Burke tells us, this driver now is "bumming rides" and taking "buses and the subway" because his license was revoked. Legal fees are high. If this weren't enough, "social activists kept saying he hadn't suffered enough."

Then Burke tells us: "I was the driver."

Wrong, Mr. Burke. You were the killer. So why don't you just say it?

A guy is dead, a woman widowed, two children orphaned, and Kelly Burke is telling me what agony it is to take public transportation. As I said, 1 wanted to kick in the set. I admit my reaction to drunken driving is extreme. But Burke and I do agree on one thing:

"I've said many times," he told the judge at his sentencing, "I wished it had been me."

If these self-indulgent slobs would just maim and kill each other, drunken driving wouldn't upset me as much. In fact, it wouldn't upset me at all.

Date: 2015-12-18; view: 1060