I was 15 when I got my own image: that of my mom’s little green sports car and unused seat belts. My parents left me and my sisters home one night to go visit friends; we were stationed in Belgium at the time. My mom had a sporty little green 2 door that my sisters and I hated squishing ourselves into the back seat of.

About half an hour after they’d been gone, we got a phone call. I answered and it was another of my parents’ friends, grilling me about my parents and where they were; I knew immediately something was wrong, but of course they wouldn’t tell me.

Hours later, my dad called from the hospital: they’d been hit by a drunk driver. Down a long stretch of empty 2 lane road, a drunken woman decided to do a U-turn right in front of my parents.

My mom’s little green car was totaled. Fortunately for us, and despite that they weren’t wearing seat belts, my parents were fine. My mom, in the passenger seat, hit the windshield, but only had to stay overnight at the hospital. My dad was perfectly fine.

Up until then, I hated wearing my seat belt, but since then I don’t get into a car without one, and nobody rides in my car without wearing one.

I’m not a big drinker, but I won’t drive if I’ve had more than one drink, and I won’t let anybody I’m with take that chance, either.

Thank you for sharing your story; I hope it was okay to share mine.