Sudden Changes

A number of years ago, HBO ran Oz, an original series about life in a maximum security prison. The series begins with the arrest and conviction of Tobias Beecher for vehicular manslaughter, having killed a child while driving drunk. The series depicts the transformation of this confident, brash attorney into a survivor of a brutal environment. Significantly, as presented from Beecher's point of view, the program at first hardly deals with remorse over the child's death and instead focuses on Beecher's suffering as a consequence of his selfishness. As much as the program depicts the conscientious but pragmatic prison staff, it is clear that the prison has two interdependent hierarchies, and Beecher must adapt to the horrors of the new environment. Tom Fontana, who created the carefully crafted, compelling Homicide: Life on the Street series, created Oz. It is well worth one's attention; both series have had a profound effect on my thoughts about how people interact, the balance between justice and mercy, and the immediacy unexpected consequences could have on one's life.

This week, I have witnessed a situation that has underscored how quickly one's life can change. Someone asked me to accompany him to traffic court, and I was not certain what to expect. I have been in court only twice before. When I was a graduate student, someone had broken into my car and stolen an FM converter (before cars came with AM/FM, one could buy an FM converter to receive FM signals), a device that was worth only fifteen dollars at the time. I basically had to appear, identify my property, and look at the pitiful kid who screwed up so badly. It was a "yes/no" exchange between me and the prosecutor, and that was it. When I worked at the University of Tennessee as an instructor, I had a moving violation because a break in a median did not exactly line up with the entrance to a parking lot, and I did not realize that my driving from the break to the driveway was driving on the wrong side of the street. I compounded my naivety by taking pictures of the alignment of the street, hoping to explain to the judge why I had done what I did. He was experienced enough to keep me quiet and let me off with a warning, and I changed my behavior accordingly, not only in how I drove but also in recognizing that people in authority ask for the information they need. What the accused might consider mitigating circumstances can mean little in a context outside one's immediate situation.

I witnessed a stronger example of this point this week. My acquaintance has considered himself a "good driver," a belief most people, I think, hold about themselves. However, this "good driver" exercised the bad judgment of speeding in a school zone. I, frankly, had no idea what was going to happen, because speeding in a school zone presents a great deal more danger than speeding on the interstate. The judge described the violation in a way I did not expect. I did expect the judge to mention how driving is a privilege, but I did not expect him to describe an automobile as a potentially lethal device. That perspective, that a driver has the responsibility to control such a device, particularly in the presence of children likely unaware of potential danger, struck home. The judge also mentioned consequences of an accident--not only the carnage and harm at the immediate scene of the accident, but also the lingering effects, from the deep hurt suffered by the victim's family and the sudden changes in the life of the driver, being overwhelmed by the guilt of having caused such harm, being the target of potential bloodlust from the victim's family, being imprisoned for recklessness rather than for intent to cause harm, being the cause of the dissolution of one's own family who must cope with how their lives, too, have suddenly altered. At the end of the lecture, I had no question that the judge had every prerogative to levy the stiffest penalty permitted.

The judge, however, showed mercy. My acquaintance will be going to defensive driving school, an eight-hour class that will present graphic depictions of some of the scenes the judge alluded to. I could see the fellow stiffen as the judge was about to pronounce his decision, and I felt just sick at heart immediately before learning the decision. I am certain that this experience has had a profound effect on him as it has on me.