Do You Remember Your First Car?: “Save Our Children!”

Rabbi Gary S. Creditor
January 26, 2001

Let me begin by asking everybody the following question: "Do you remember your first car?" I remember mine vividly! In the fall of 1965 my aunt and uncle gave me their 1956 Chevrolet, for which they had been offered $25! I offered to match that and raise it. They gave it to me for free. If I had only kept that car what it would be worth today! I lavished every spare moment on it. I went to junkyards to find replacement parts. I ground out the rust and filled in the holes. I was so proud of my car! And I couldn't wait to have a license to drive it. At sixteen, in the state of New Jersey, I got my learner's permit and took driver's ed in high school. I distinctly remember the first time I tried to make a turn. I almost hit the opposite side of the street! I wondered if I could ever do this. But somehow I learned how to drive and at the age of seventeen, gained my independence with my car when I got my license. It was wonderful! Yet, in everything that I was taught, from school and parents, in all the talk about "defensive driving, I don't recall anybody ever telling me – this car could kill you.

I do remember that I, like most young people – all young people, felt impervious to danger and death. The words "bang, bang, your dead" were not real. For after we said it, as we played cops and robbers, cowboys and Indians, we got up and played again. You didn't die. One song of the era captured the attitude: "There ain't no mountain high enough…" We could do it all, at any time and in any place. Cars were big. Cars were fast. And we were not afraid to take risks. Statistics were impersonal. And they never applied to us. We were young. We were sharp. We were "cool." We could driver faster, turn corners better, pull into a spot quicker, and stop on a dime. We were unwilling to even consider the thought that we were not quite so skilled and not so smart. The arrogance of youth made us oblivious to the lack of our experience. The movie "Grease" with John Travolta and Olivia Newton John captures the intrigue and involvement with cars, particularly in the race scene. The carefree overconfidence of youth is supremely manifest.

I was fortunate that none of my classmates in high school died in a car accident. In my years, my school was never touched by death. The only negative result was that it reinforced our mistaken sense of our own immortality. I have been equally fortunate that my rabbinate has been spared the grief of consoling families of a loss due to a car accident. I confess that every time I hear on the TV or radio, or open up the newspaper and see the headline, I shudder, and even tremble. The privilege of the Rabbinical position enters me into the lives of the families of our congregation. The worries that I have for my own children extend to all our children.

It was safe and comforting to know that for so many years Ruby and I or other parents would be the drivers for Menachem, Yonina and Tzeira. They were safe as could be in our protective driving. Yet as I watched other children growing up I knew that the day would come for our children also to be, in the words of that great spiritual, "free at last," when they had their license and the keys to the car, especially my car! And now creeping age, experience and knowledge of growing older caught up with me. For I as their father, their abbah, as all of us as parents, have dreams. I dreamt of high school and college graduations, of weddings, of grandchildren. And I didn't ever want to lose those dreams, not for them, not for Ruby and me. At least in New York where we were living, the age for a learner's permit was sixteen and the age for a license was seventeen. Because of our move here with him in school in New York, Menachem did not get his license until much later, and without a car, he was safely off the roads. Yonina got her license, but didn't need a car with school just down the street. She, too, safely off to college in New York City didn't need a car. It is Tzeira who presented me with the greatest existential challenge: even as she is an excellent driver, to see her drive off with the car or van and be silent, quietly, and prayerfully confident.

To Tzeira, Yonina and Menachem I incessantly, ad nausea, reminded them that a car was a lethal weapon. It could kill others. It could kill you. While I wanted them to enjoy driving, ease their way into adulthood, indubitably fledge their wings, I needed to make sure that I had made them as aware, as safe, as good drivers as was possible. I wanted to strip away fearlessness, confiscate recklessness, and mature their youthfulness, so that when they got behind the wheel, I had given them every protective layer possible. They might have gotten fed up with me and Ruby repeating that they had to be super vigilant because it was the other drivers who were crazy. It must have been difficult to hear me pointing out how many times car lights were blinking and they didn't turn. But I did it because I want, desperately want, for them to live out their dreams, and our dreams for them.

That is my wish and fervent prayer for all our children, for every child in this congregation is our collective child. And that is my wish and fervent prayer for all children and all families.

If it could be proven that that raising the age levels for permit and license will

save lives of our youth, then raise it.

If rules restricting time of usage will save lives, restrict it.

If rules limiting the number of passengers with young drivers will save lives –

we have always lived with that standard, then limit it.

With roads ever more congested, with cars ever more nimble, with youthfulness just as blinding as ever, we need to take every precaution and every measure to insure that when they ask "Can I have the keys?" we will have everyconfidence that they will be the best drivers possible.

We as parents have the first and primary obligation to instill in them the fear of heaven BEFORE they get behind the wheel.

We need to inculcate in them the awesome responsibility of driving a vehicle.

We need to pour into them as much wisdom as possible from our miles on the road.

We need the courage to say NO, when we know in the marrow of our bones that there is a real danger and threat, and not be intimidated nor cajoled to change our minds.

All of this will never eliminate every tragedy, but it will certainly diminish the carnage on the roads. It will be the utmost that we can do, to save our children.

Tonight and tomorrow the Shapiro-Terner family joins with the congregation in sharing the celebration of Jeremy becoming a Bar Mitzvah. All the Shabbatot from now until the very end of June are filled with b'nai mitzvah plus ufrufs, blessing of the brides and baby namings. There will brit milahs for baby boys. We join in prayer and pledge ourselves to action on behalf of our children, so that we will continue to join together in celebrations and simchah. May our dreams and our children's dreams be fulfilled in health, in happiness and in life.

Amen.