I was already frozen in horror when the deputy turned to look at a fellow officer, and at me.
“Did you hear that snap?” he asked. “That was her neck breaking.”
Inside the car I saw blood streaking from the faces of three teenage girls who-just one split second ago-were laughing, happy, silly. Young.
I watched as airbags exploded in vain, as glass shattered and steel crumpled.
I am a parent. I watched as those teenage heads snapped forward. SMASH! Backward. WHACK! Forward. SMASH. Sideways. SMASH! SMASH!
And then it all stopped.
Finally.
“That’s how it happens,” the other deputy said.
They were both somber, but matter-of-fact. They’ve seen it before.
A horn blared continuously, like in the movies.
Then, inside another car, a young child cried out.
“Mommy, Daddy, wake up!”
Like the airbags, the cries are in vain. Mommy and Daddy are dead.
It was a four-minute video produced to warn kids about the dangers of texing while driving.
For me, it was a Monday like any other Monday. Deadline. I was running from one task to the next and made my usual stop at the Orion Township Sheriff’s substation to look at police reports.
It was shift-change, the deputies were coming and going. I’m curious about what’s going on in the community, so I pepper them with questions as often as I can; I’ve come to realize anyone in law enforcement sees a side of things many of us deliberately look away from.
Me included, apparently, because Monday’s conversation about trends in crime, drug use and other police-like topics evolved into something else, and suddenly that clip was playing.
I’m pretty sure I stopped breathing for the entire four minutes.
According to a story I found later posted on National Public Radio’s website, npr.org, the video was made in Wales as a collaborative public service announcement among filmmaker Peter Watkins-Hughes, a police force and a high school in Gwent, Wales.
It was to be shown in schools throughout the U.K. this past fall.
Watkins-Hughes initially posted it on YouTube so a friend, a BBC producer in London, could see it. Within weeks its popularity soared.
I’d heard about it when it was released, but avoided it for the same reason I don’t watch horror movies.
I don’t want to see it. Why do I want to subject myself to something like that? I don’t want to see it. I have enough to think about.
I don’t want to see it.
And here-in lies the problem; the deputies voiced the words I was already thinking.
No U.S. school would ever show a video like that. Air it on television? Hardly.
We don’t want to see things we know will upset us, and we certainly don’t want to subject our children to such horror.
I’m just as guilty as the next mom. Maybe more so.
And-again, according to the NPR story-some experts say scare tactics don’t work, anyway, and won’t change human behavior.
I say this: forget the “experts.” Let’s create awareness. If you are the parent of a teenager, I urge you, please, think seriously about sitting down and watching this video with your kids.
It’s horrible, it’s graphic, it’s disturbing and it’s utterly terrifying. You’re not going to enjoy it.
But it could save your child’s life.
And, while it was created to warn about the dangers of texting while driving-and it certainly does-it could relate to any unsafe behavior behind the wheel. Drunk driving, reckless or careless driving, sleepy driving-anything.
As far as I can tell, the video’s been removed from YouTube for terms of use violation. But all you have to do is Google “texing while driving video;” you don’t even need the quotes.
And to the Orion deputies who showed me the video I say simply this: thank you.