Dale

A 1960 Plymouth Valiant that drove like a tank and sounded like a B-52 suffered sudden paralysis one car-pooling morning when both front wheels turned at right angles to the frame of the car, bringing it to a sudden and permanent halt. Unwilling to assign the car to a nameless grave in Potter's Field, my father paid to have it hauled to a vocational school. Prince Valiant became a vehicular cadaver; the old thing may even have become an organ donor. We don't buy new cars. According to my dad, "You never know what might go wrong with a new car, and you could get a lemon."

During free practice, the Jordan of the new Formula 1 star, Rubens Barrichello, crashed at a speed close to 150 miles per hour, slamming headfirst into a wall of tires. The driver was knocked unconscious and transported to a hospital, where Senna, his countryman, was the first person Rubens saw when he came to. Next day, during the qualifying session, a promising Austrian driver Roland Ratzenberger was killed when a wing on his Simtek ripped off on a speed of about 170 miles per hour. The car then hit a concrete wall, Roland suffering extensive damage to his head. He died on the spot, forcing Senna to say to a friend and rival of his, Frenchman Alain Prost, that if he could avoid racing the next day, he would.

Why? The question I would ask the man who put my uncle in a coma for two months. It was 6 am on Friday October 7th, I had a message from my mom that read “call me”. I remember the tears falling down my face as I ran out of bed calling for my cousin and my brother telling them to get ready, not being able to comprehend what was happening everything was a blur, it still is. My uncle 62 years of age was driving downtown around 11:30 am on Thursday October 6th, and got hit on the drivers side by a drunk driver who ran a red light.

In February of 2001, he was killed doing what he loved, and I was devastated. See, the problem was I had never realized he was my hero until he died. In fact, when I initially saw the wreck and where he was in the points system, I can remember thinking to myself, “oh well, we’ve had to dig out of bigger holes than this.” Three hours later, the leaders of NASCAR held a press conference to say he had died, and I literally broke down in tears. I also remember thinking at the time, “Why do I feel this way?” I found the thought of mourning for someone I had never met, very strange. I say all of this to make a point.

Transient Global Amnesia A little while ago, my father and grandfather were driving in our car together. All of a sudden, my grandfather said that he was feeling dizzy and thought the beginnings of a migraine were coming on. My grandfather is extremely healthy and has an amazing memory, so my father was shocked when not long after, when grandfather asked where Ruthy, his recently deceased wife, was. When my father reminded him that she had died of cancer last year, my grandfather broke into tears, as if he was being told for the first time. In addition, he couldn't even remember what he had just eaten for dinner or any other events of the day.

Danger and NASCAR “I had never even heard of Dale Earnhardt until he crashed into eternity, but now here I am writing a column about him” (King, 64). This reaction, recorded by Florence King in National Review, seems to be a common one since Earnhardt’s death in the Daytona 500. Dale Earnhardt was a driver in the Winston Cup circuit for the National Association of Stock Car Auto Racing (NASCAR). Despite the fact that he is arguably the most popular NASCAR driver, many people did not know who he was until he died. It is sad to realize that sometimes it takes death to become recognized.

I was five when my mother’s parents were killed in a drunk driving accident. I grew up never getting to truly know my grandparents because some asshole was drunk and ran a red light. Not only did he cause the accident but he was the one who got airlifted to the hospital while my grandparents lay dying and waiting for the ambulance to arrive. People may think that I was five so I don 't remember much, but I remember more than I would like. I remember my family being wrecked by the news of their death, I remember them passing around pictures of the crash and hating that god awful yellow car that hit my grandparents, I remember being too scared to go see them at the funeral so I stayed in a kid area.

and was headed home. One older man, who was texting and driving, sped into my stopped car going 70 mph. I was hit by his truck and another vehicle, and as a result, I was ejected out of the back windshield of my car. I ended up with a fractured neck and compression fractures down my spine. I was on bed rest for four months which gave me plenty of time to think about my life.

On June 2011, three teenage boys were killed in a car accident near Raleigh, North Carolina. Sixteen-year-old Austin Flowers was driving along with his friends Lane Meyer, sixteen-year-old and Matt Speight, seventeen-year-old after a church event Sunday night. WBTV News reported that the driver, Austin Flowers was driving 129 mph. Austin lost control over the speed and crashed into a tree. All three boys attended Wake Forest-Rolesville High School.

He no doubt has Alzheimer’s Disease or at least that’s what all the signs throughout the play points too with a huge red finger. From the start of the play you feel that something is off with Willy. He returns home early from a trip and from the start his wife asks if he got into a car accident. Mentioning that he had once crashed a car off of a bridge and into the river down below. He admits that he kept falling into a trance like state while driving and knew that he would not be able to make the