I’ve had more than my fair share of experience with drunk drivers in my life.
My family was hit by a drunk driver, my mother taking our Lincoln Town Car careening off an embankment avoiding front impact. We were supposed to be on our way out of town for vacation. I don’t really remember where we were going… who could?
I was hit by a drunk driver driving my husband and I home late one night. He was driving on a suspended license, suspended for multiple DUI’s. When sentenced, I was outraged. He got fourteen weeks in weekend prison, and still maintained driving privileges for work… leaving him and I share that same stretch of NC Hwy 150.
Perhaps most devastating was friends our family, when a drunk driver plowed into them sending their pre-school son flying a hundred yards from the car to his death, blood all over the pillow he was using moments before. I babysat their infant girl, who thankfully was safe secured into a infant car seat… I just had to careful remove glass from the folds of her most delicate flesh, where I’m not quite certain how it got there in the first place.
Growing up, my pal Ryan moved to Texas. He was a hottie playboy type, complete with the picturesque convertible. On some summer night in Texas, he was driving, post drinks, and flipped his convertible tumbling into his death.