IT COULD NEVER HAPPEN TO ME
by Scott Cameron

    My name is Scott Cameron and I wish to share some information with you about my personal experiences regarding the consequences of drinking and driving. You see, I wasn't fortunate enough to receive a D. U. I. ticket the few times I was driving under the influence of alcohol, but I can assure you that there are many times that I wish I had received one. -- (before I had my first wreck)

    Even though D. U. I. ticket fines are very expensive in many ways, I've paid and will keep on paying my fine for the rest of my life. I wasn't lucky enough to go before a judge or jury to determine the sentence that I should receive for driving under the influence. I -- and I alone -- was the judge and jury, and my self-imposed sentence almost cost me my life. (And in some ways it did.)

To make my fine seem lighter, I ask for you to listen as though you were hearing information that may extend, or yes, even save your life. I know you might think the last statement is a little strong. Too strong? -- what is too strong? I think when we are talking about life or something that may end life, there isn't a statement that can be considered too strong. And by saying strong, I mean very, very serious. Me, for example, being the superb driver that I thought I was -- I never even considered the possibility of becoming involved in a car wreck (and I want to stress that it was a wreck and not an accident} due to a few alcoholic drinks. Let's be serious, it could never happen to me! Looking back before my first wreck, life was just about as good as one would expect in a pleasant dream. I had my eighteenth birthday and graduated from high school about six months prior to that nearly fatal moment, I loved sports in high school, especially baseball. After I had worked for Bell Telephone for a couple of years and gained a little size, I was going to follow my interest in baseball. It's sometimes still hard to believe that due to my poor decisions (peer pressure) and alcohol my hopes for baseball have faded. And many of my dreams extinguished.

I had just arrived home from work at around four o'clock on a Friday afternoon. After receiving a few hundred dollars for a week's work, I was ready for an enjoyable weekend. As soon as I entered the house, I laid down on the sofa to nap for a couple of hours. About an hour later, the phone rang ten or fifteen times before I aroused myself to answer it. This girl I had always been real close to in high school was calling to ask if I cared to take her to a party at around eight o'clock that evening. I said, "Sure!" being the party animal and wanting to see a lot of people I never got a chance to meet with anymore.

My date and I arrived at the party, and the festivities had already been going on for about an hour. We joined in with the dancing and mingling routes. By midnight, I was a little tipsy and mostly worn out. I decided it was time to leave the party and take my date home.

We pulled up in her driveway at approximately twelve thirty. Even though I did not wish to move an inch, I thought it was my duty and maybe best interest to escort the young lady to her door. I hesitated between every couple of steps as I walked with her. When we reached the door on the side of the house, I expressed my desire to stay, partly for romance but mostly to sober up. She thought I just wanted to make romantic advances and pointed me toward the car. After getting back into the car, I realized my house was only ten miles away (the longest ten miles in my life) and thought I could make that with no problem. I was five miles from my house when I stopped at a friend's trailer. The main reason for stopping was to give me another break from driving.

After traveling up that long, dusty, bumpy driveway to the side of the house, I exited the car. Standing out more so than usual was the sandy trail leading to the front door. I casually walked up the steps leading to the door and gave a few knocks. I waited for a few minutes to receive an answer, but there was not one. As I got back in the car, I was thinking about the fun trip back down that driveway. Once I reached the end of that driveway, it was a nice paved road ail the way home with very little traffic.

About five minutes after I got on the main road, I passed through Hilton. That is a small town on Lake Murray I am referring to and not Hilton Head Island on the coast. The town consisted of two convenience stores at the main inter-section and my church on the hill.

All I remember is that my mind was absent for a few seconds and I slid off the road. I was stopped from going too far off the road by a telephone pole. The next thing I knew I was lying on my back in Richland Memorial Hospital. I was in a coma for six weeks and my motor skills became paralyzed.

When I awoke from that deep sleep, I tried to get out of,bed but could not move. I saw my mother on the other side of the room and tried to ask what was going on. The only problem was that nothing came out not even a sound. It was like being dead without dying! And like I kept telling myself, "It could never happen to me!"

I could tell my life was in for a major change and I knew there would be hard work adjusting. I was told that my speech would come back after a few months of retraining my mouth muscles in speech therapy. The first thing that I said

I will always remember like it was yesterday. My mother was talking to me on the phone and I do not know if she was just trying to get a response or talking "to me". She asked me if I wanted a shake and hamburger from McDonald's. The words "Hurry Up" came from my lips in a faint tone! I think I was getting tired of hospital food.

After a few months at Richland Memorial, the doctors were satisfied with my physical improvements so far. It was time to move to a rehabilitation hospital in Greenville. Although my speech was slowly coming around, I still had to confront the problems of my right side being immobile. My main goal in Greenville was to improve my walking so I could get out of that wheelchair. It was a little easier dealing with my handicap, because ninety percent of the other patients were also in Wheelchairs.

 While I was there, I saw a fellow patient whose consequences of drinking were of a different nature. The guy was paralyzed from the neck down, permanently. He told me that he had gotten off from work on a Thursday afternoon. Gathering a few of his work buddies, he rode to the local pub and they had a few beers. Soon afterward, they decided to go to his house for a swim. He said it was a very hot afternoon and they were more than ready to dive in off the dock. As they walked down the main section, he said that due to the alcohol, he lost his balance and fell.

When he finally came to his senses, he said he was numb from his neck down to his toes. He broke his neck when he struck the lake bottom with his head. The water was only a foot deep, and that might have had a little to do with his neck being broken.

After staying at the hospital in Greenville for about six weeks, I was ready to leave it and the wheelchair behind me. I had progressed enough to go to a rehabilitative hospital in Columbia as an outpatient. I went to several different therapists out there for a couple of years before I decided to take the college entrance examination, otherwise known as the S. A. T. I just wanted to see what it was like. It was almost two years since I had been in high school, but I did very well on the exam. As a matter of fact, I did well enough to get accepted at Francis Marion College. I received my dream car and went to college all at once. It was 1970 red convertible Ford Cougar with a white interior. It was fantastic to put the top down and ride from my home in Columbia to college in Florence. Although I made some great friends at college, there were too many obstacles overcome. After two years, I withdrew.

I went home to Columbia and lived with my parents for a couple of months. College life taught me how to be very independent. So, I needed to find an apartment. I moved to my own place in town and attended Midlands Technical College for a few quarters. I also went to the rehabilitation center, this time as an employee an not a client. I had to be at work at six o'clock a.m. to pick up the mail for the S. C. Vocational Rehabilitation Department- My job also included sorting and delivering the mail to each office.

I then applied for and was accepted as a student at U. S. C. I felt that I needed that diploma to further advance my career opportunities. I decided I must lay off work for a short while and concentrate on my studies.

I felt like I had a few personal problems to work out and school was going just average despite my attention to the classes., All I knew is that it was FRIDAY -- time to kick back and enjoy my free time. It was also time to have a few drinks and postpone my problems until Monday sometime between seven and eight o'clock that evening I met a few friends at the apartment, and we decided to go to the pub up the road. We shot a few games of pool, ate a little food, and had a few drinks. I started feeling tired and left for home.

 While I was leaving, I looked at my watch to check the time. It was 10:00 and not too late. I was looking forward to a good night's sleep. This time it was only three miles to my house, with two on interstate 20. This trip would be a breeze.Plus, I had already gotten into one car wreck that almost ended my life. it would never happen to me again. There were two ways home: the more populated main road that had a night club with a lot of cars parked out front, or the frontage road that could avoid the traffic. Naturally, I chose the less-populated frontage road for my route. When I was half way down that road, state maintenance ended, and my troubles began.

I hit a small bump where the surface of the road turned from asphalt to tar and gravel. After having a few drinks in my system, my judgment and reaction time were impaired. The car's back end bounced up, then grabbed traction when the tires hit the road again, and headed for two oak trees. The car had great traction, and I shot forward into the trees.

I was extremely lucky, to a degree. I did not paralyze the right Side of my body and the nerves in my mouth. I knocked the transmission into the trunk, with the shifter breaking my arm in three different places. The impact also caused me to break my pelvis, collapse one lung, and puncture the other. However, the most serious injury was pulling the artery going to my right leg away from my heart.

The next thing I could recall was being led down the hallway of Richland Memorial Hospital's emergency room on a gurney. Using a local anesthetic, the doctors did the heart Surgery first, as a matter of necessity. I heard everything, even the doctor's contemplation of every operative procedure.

After the heart surgery and while I was being rolled to another station, I remember complaining rather loudly about my pelvis throbbing with pain. I do not know if it was meant to keep me quiet or relieve me from pain, but the doctors gave me a shot of Demoral. This time I awoke from a deep sleep three days later instead of six weeks. There were many tubes running in and out of my body. The tube I hated the most was the one that led down my throat.

Because I had that tube down my throat, I was speechless and unable to drink. In order to communicate, I spoke by arranging letters on a magnetic board. The first letters I placed on the board were M. DEW. And my mother guessed what I meant right away -- Mountain Dew. Mom went to the drink machine and purchased a twelve-ounce can. She then placed some on a small sponge over a cafeteria tray and lined my lips with the drink  in her efforts to put me in HEAVEN!

It was so good and gave me something besides that Medicine after-taste. I desired some more terribly. Later that evening, I almost ruined my speech permanently. I could not drink with this tube in my mouth. So I removed the tube with a small jerk. The nurse came running into my room as though I was committing a major crime. I thought no harm, no foul. Wrong! The nurse called in a few of her assistants to restrain me. They strapped me to the bedrails in a harsh motion. They straddled my chest and shoved this tube back into my throat. I was screaming at the top of my lungs that I intended no harm. The only problem was that not even a sound came out.

Were the few alcoholic drinks and driving worth taking the risk? I think not! My problems were not only postponed -- but almost eliminated -- and they were headed for an abrupt halt. I wish I could say all this was just a story -- a figment of my imagination -- but I cannot! I hope what I say scares you, because it sure frightened me.,I have paid a heavy price for these lessons. I just hope others benefit from the knowledge I've gained in such an undesirable fashion. One car wreck should have been enough. If someone makes a mistake and doesn't know any better or makes a judgment without knowing the facts, that is just ignorant. But if one has knowledge of a mistake and performs it again as I have done, that is just plain stupid. Life is full of many questions, and possibilities are presented to us in an abundance of forms. If we search for the answers incoherently and/or under the influence of a mind-altering substance, a need for the answer may be eliminated!

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