Like a
traveler specializing in side trips, I started by asking e-mail questions
about the current prevalence of white vehicles, moved on to viewing
specifications for several new cars and the results of safety tests on
recent models, and unexpectedly arrived at a site dedicated to the
Remember Bliss Campaign. The organization did not seek my vote, but
suggested observing a moment of silence at 5:30 p.m. on Sept. 13.
Personally,
I don't expect to be in my car then (I did most of my current driving over
the weekend), so I don't plan to pull over and shut off the engine to mark
the occasion. Besides, I think it would cause more problems than it would
solve on busy roads such as Woodlawn in Lincoln.
Instead, in
various moments of silence, in front of the computer screen and elsewhere,
I've been reviewing my feelings and choices about cars, driving and other
modes of transportation. It's a complicated, changing relationship
influenced by factors such as my parents’ travel habits and my own
transportation experiences as a passenger, pedestrian, bicyclist, car
owner and driver.
Since I did
not remember Henry Bliss, I had to read about him first. He died 101 years
ago. He had lived in New York City and worked in the real estate business.
When he stepped from a trolley on Sept. 13, 1899, he was struck by an
electric taxicab, which reportedly swerved to avoid a truck. His death the
next day was the first recorded fatality in connection with an automobile
in America.
Since then,
automobile accidents have been one of the causes of death in our society.
In addition, our use of cars has radically changed how we live.
The fact
that Henry Bliss rode a trolley sounded familiar because my mother grew up
in an Illinois city where there were streetcars. If she didn't walk, she
went by streetcar, or later by bus, to wherever she needed to go.
In contrast,
car travel has always been at least a small part of my life, though I didn’t
spend much time in the car during my student years, and I’ve never
enjoyed being in heavy traffic. School and church were just a few steps
away. Groceries were also within walking distance after we moved to a
town. Even during my first year of full-time employment, I lived without a
car in a suburban setting.
Then, with a
job change, I became a commuter, adding close to 50 miles to the odometer
every workday in all kinds of weather. I was able to carpool to some
extent, but driving was critically essential to my way of life.
The next
time I needed to find a different place to live, I decided it would be
easier to live near my work, and I switched to commuting mostly on foot.
Since then, car travel has become more of a special event.
So, in a
car-oriented society, I have a mixed view of personal transportation. I
hope there will always be a niche where people can live a reasonably
independent life even if they can't depend on driving (for medical
reasons, for example) or if they choose not to. Perhaps working from home
by computer will help to make this a continuing option.
Present
concerns about gas prices encourage all of us to reassess the
transportation choices we make. We do have opportunities to make new
decisions about where we live, where we work and how we travel.
With more
than 100 years of cars behind us, I'm not sure how our popular forms of
transportation may change or how fast the developments will occur. We
can't always see around the next curve in the road. However, as a nation
of car drivers, we’d do well in our transportation planning to apply the
basic outlook we were taught when we learned to drive: Keep your eyes on
the road ahead and adjust accordingly.
