page fifteen/the journal/february 20,1974
IWASINIOVE
Wim A GIRL NAMED CAIHY.
■ KILLED HER.
“It was last summer, and I
was 18. Cathy was 18 too. It was
the happiest summer of my life. I
had never been that happy before.
Lhaven’t been that happy since.
And I know I’ll never be that
happy again. It was warm and
beautiful and so we bought a few
bottles of wine and drove to the
country to celebrate the night. We
drank the wine and looked at the
stars and held each other and
laughed. It must have been the stars
and the wine and the warm wind.
Nobody else was on the road. The
top was down, and we were singing
and I didn’t even see the tree until
I hit it.”
Every year 8,000 American
people between the ages of 15 and
25 are killed in alcohol related
crashes. That’s more than combat.
More than drugs. More than suicide.
More than cancer.
The people on this page are
not real. But what happened to them
is very real.
The automobile crash is the
number one cause of death of people
your age. And the ironic thing is
that the drunk drivers responsible
for killing young people are most
often other young people.
DRUNK DRIVER, DEPT. Y*
BOX 1969
WASHINGTON, D.C. 20013
I don’t want to get killed and I don’t
want to kill anyone. Tell me how I can
help.’^Youths Highway Safety
Advisory Committee.
My name is
Address
City
State
Zip^
STOP DRIVING DRUNK.
STOP KILLING EACH OTHER.
us W;PAH1MK!V1 Of 7RANS«)MA7K>N-NAIIONAl.MICHWAV7HAI>H. SAFrrVAt)MINISrKATION