Only The Good Die Young

Published April 15, 2008

By Bridget Treco

Arlington, Massachusetts. It’s a large suburban town about eight miles outside of Boston. Dane Cook went to my high school, no one pronounces their “r”’s, everyone is Irish Catholic and obsessed with hockey. My hometown is an important part of who I am, and I love it.
One reason I don’t: we have a surprisingly bad history with drugs and alcohol— a characteristic that is true for many sleepy towns. There was a drunk driving accident in 2003, and the boy died. During my junior year of high school, a senior committed drug-induced suicide.
They were both terrible tragedies, but I didn’t know the kids. It was a horrible blow to the community. The only upside of which, was that it cemented the bonds among seniors. My friend used to joke. “Well, have a kid in your class die and your whole class will be close too!” A horrible sentiment, but I didn’t believe it would ever apply to my class.

Then came April 16th, 2007. For many, this day calls to mind the horrible Virginia Tech shootings. For us in Arlington, it brought another drunk-driving accident. This time, it really was a fellow senior, Paul. My sister used to babysit for him when he was a kid. We had several mutual friends, and he sat next to me in my history class. Everything about him was pleasant, normal, and unassuming. And then, just like that, he was gone.
There is nothing normal about death, or about fitting a wake and a funeral into your schedule. Death will never be understood, it just is. It assumes the undertone of everything from the moment it takes over. I didn’t know Paul very well, but death affects you when it affects everything around you. I felt a lot of pain for his family, for his friends, and for our whole community. This was the third alcohol/drug-related death in five years at my high school.
After Paul died, things went on as normally as they could. There were college acceptances, finals, prom, and then there was graduation. We all got bracelets to remember Paul, and waved them around at the ceremony as his mom said a few words about him and proudly held up his giant basketball sneakers. At that moment, despite his death, we remained unified and strong.
There is no fault in death. No matter how dangerous it is to drink and drive and overdose on prescription drugs, I’ll never blame anyone for their deaths. But I remember going to a party that summer and being around a bunch of idiots from a neighboring town who were drinking absinthe and planned on driving home afterwards.
Uncool enough, obviously, but when my friend who was close with Paul started to yell at them about it (since it was so soon after his death), they had the nerve to reply with “[Drunk driving deaths] only happen in Texas.”
What I’m really trying to get at here is something that goes way beyond my personal story and my hometown. I know many people at this school have dealt with similar tragedies at their high schools. Now that we’re in college, how have our perspectives changed? Have we matured from our experiences concerning drinking and driving, or have we stayed the same?
It’s hard to tell whether or not the situation applies to us in most cases, seeing that I’m a first year and most of us don’t even have cars. Even people who do live off-campus and have cars don’t need to drive to get to parties. We walk, we use public transportation, and it’s not always an issue. College kids certainly still find themselves in these situations, but it’s obvious why in high school it’s a more common issue. Beyond college, we’ll run into the same problems as full-grown adults. It’s a situation that we’ll encounter at any point in our lives. Can we escape it? The important question to ask yourself is whether or not you’re in denial. Most people have a friend who’s driven home drunk and has ended up fine. And then we know people who haven’t been okay afterwards.
We’ve all heard the question, “are you okay to drive?” The answer should always be no, but does everyone take it with the same seriousness? Do we need tragedies to snap us back into reality? We certainly shouldn’t.

The anniversary of Paul’s death is this Thursday. I used his death as a springboard into the heart of the issue, but I do want to commemorate his life here as well. Remember a personal experience and make it positive: no one wants to lose a friend because of drunk driving.

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