By Michael J. Tittinger
They’re everywhere, these older drivers are — stopping and starting, turning and parking. It’s a phenomenon we had little reason to take notice of before last week, but I’ll admit, it’s been on my mind ever since.
They’re seemingly everywhere, like fireflies in the night, these elderly drivers making their way around the Santa Monica vicinity just like the rest of us. Now, I am catching myself watching them with a more discerning eye, wary of what missteps they could conceivably take while doing their stopping and starting.
And that is wrong. Running along my typical route after work last week, it was heartening at times crossing the crosswalks, as drivers appeared to be more wary of the pedestrians crossing into their paths, stopping an extra second or two just to make certain everyone was out of harm’s way. In light of last week’s catastrophe at the farmer’s market, it was an understandable reaction, or so I thought. For the next block was just as apt to be disheartening, like when two turning vehicles leaned on their horns to not only make their presence known to one another, but more in efforts to annoy the other. Both of these irate drivers were clearly in their 20s or 30s.
It’s only natural that our collective awareness be heightened following the events of last Wednesday, when 86-year-old Russell Weller plunged his speeding ’92 Buick into the jam-packed farmer’s market downtown, leaving 10 people dead and more than 70 others injured in his wake. Not to mention the psychological harm inflicted upon all those that bore witness to the tragedy. Our awareness of older drivers on the roadway is bound to be more acute, as we question periodically whether or not each one of those drivers is fit to share the road with the rest of us.
It is a sensation not unlike that of when we buy a new car, or used car for that matter, and subsequently notice just how many of those models are on the streets. Our awareness is heightened because we are interested when we see another car like ours. No one else really cares.
Now when we see an elderly driver, with admittedly slower reflexes, we are naturally bound to take notice. Unfortunately, it’s also a naturally bad connotation.
Thinking back, I recall riding in the car with my father several years ago when he suddenly hit the brakes and swerved as something streamed out in front of the car. It was a leaf. I remember teasing him that I was going get him a bumper sticker “I Brake for Leaves” instead of the popular “I Brake for Animals,” but for some reason that episode has stuck with me over the ensuing years. Maybe it was the first time I really took notice of his diminishing reflexes or recognition behind the wheel. Maybe it was the first time I even considered his age when he was driving. Maybe I gave it more credence than it deserved.
Regardless, he is an outstanding driver, who has never received so much as a moving violation in over 50 years of driving a car. To this day I would entrust my life to him while operating a vehicle, and not just because he is my father, but because he is the most careful of drivers. They say with age comes wisdom and it is imperative that we all acquire that wisdom to recognize when our faculties have faded and senses slurred. It will become imperative that we drive at lower speeds to compensate for the unpredictability of the road. It will become imperative to shy away from driving at night if the glare from oncoming cars becomes too distracting. It will become imperative to let loved ones know we just don’t feel comfortable jumping on the freeways at rush hour anymore.
To their credit, most elderly drivers do just that, and this is why they pose no more of a threat than the hip-hop generation speeding down side streets with their stereos blaring, or the distracted professionals with a latte in one hand and cell phone in the other. It seems wisdom surely does come with age.
When’s the last time you saw an elderly driver holding a drink between his legs, talking on a cell phone or fretting over a recurring series of banal radio station selections?
If everybody braked for leaves we’d all be better off.
The fallout of Wednesday’s tragedy has inevitably focused on whether or not there should be age limits placed on an individual’s ability to obtain a driver’s license.
With 16 percent of all drivers in this country over the age of 65, and that figure expected to reach 25 percent by the year 2030, it’s a murky problem that has rightfully come to the surface. But to single out the elderly for no more reason than their being old is no more justifiable than profiling drivers according to their race, gender or any other physical attribute. There’s just no sweeping measure that will eradicate all the problem drivers and leave those with careful technique and respect for their driving rightfully behind the wheel.
Periodic mandatory driver’s tests? Sure, but how about applying them on an intermittent basis to all of the state’s drivers? There are plenty of drivers with diminished skills — i.e., loss of vision, loss of hearing, proneness to seizures — that will continue to operate a vehicle for years to come because they are young in age, but no less a threat to the rest of us than a disoriented octogenarian.
Besides, it is doubtful that testing Weller earlier in the year would have prevented the events that took place at the farmer’s market. What actually happened that day will likely never be known to anyone other than the 86-year-old and his maker. To what degree physical inadequacies, emotional breakdowns and internal confusion played a part in the accident may never become clear.
Whether or not Weller made a conscious decision to actually hit people with his maroon LeSabre is unknown. At the very least, he had lost his ability to rationalize what was going on. The truth of it is, we all have within us the power to wreak the kind of carnage and wreckage that Weller did one week ago, but what stops us is an innate instinct for goodness and human nature and rationality.
Qualities not easily gauged by the ability to slalom our way through a series of pylons or parallel park.
There has to be a modicum of respect for the vehicle, the power it possesses with us in the driver’s seat and the damage it could conceivably do. On the whole, I see a lot more of that coming from our elderly motorists, they of the two-hands-on-the-wheel pose and methodical stop sign stops, than I do from the average commuters with less years behind the wheel. (Mike Tittinger is a freelance writer living in Santa Monica. To reach him, e-mail).
Originally published in the Santa Monica Daily Press print edition on July 24, 2003. Read the original PDF.