Take the Keys Away for Christmas

Winter pounced on the fragile ease of an autumn Indian summer. An army of occupation moved in from the north. It's cold regime of wind and ice hold captive the early days of December.

“What in the Sam Hill is going on?” Camelot Bob moaned shaking out of his Eddie Bauer down jacket. “Last week it was 70 degrees, and I was watering the grass.”
“You know what they say,” said Manor Hill Mack anxious to throw in the oldest joke in the cafe book. “If you don't like Missouri's weather, wait minute; and it'll change.”

Men smiled. There is comfort in the familiar, dumb as it may be.
Then it got serious

“How's the boy doing?” asked Mack.
“About the same,” Ron replied.

They knew the boy from church. He was in a wreck on an icy road. THis condition was critical. Drinking was involved.

The shock of such events stuns our sensibility. Old people form uneasy alliances with death. They know living, and that it slips away. Our children are not supposed to die. They think they never will.

Some at the cafe remember when childbirth and the first few years of life were a time of fear. Now, a driver's license ushers in the premier terror of our modern culture. A phone call comes in the night. A knock on the door means lives unalterably changed. Car wrecks are an abomination.

For the first time in years, drunk driving is again on the rise. The old guys at the cafe are plenty irked at kids these days. Some think they are soft and selfish, shallow and dull. But their real wrath is for parents who know their children drive drunk and turn a blind eye.

“Kids, beer and cars, I hate it!” said Ron and he dipped his head.
For that moment Ron was riding back from Wathena, Kansas to St. Joseph, Missouri on the old Pony Express Bridge. An oncoming car slammed on its breaks and slid sideways directly into a jolting crash. Ron's best friend was driving the car, and his girlfriend was killed.

It was all for winning a game and celebration that they crossed the line into Kansas. Drunk on glory, young love, beer, and the sheer power of a massive V-8 engine, Ron and his friends believed in the invincibility of youth.

“By God, if I could do anything for kids it would be to cut off the top of their heads and pour in the truth about life,” Ron said. “Even the magic of youth can not change a three second mistake.”

The sharp edge of sunlight outside the cafe clouded for a moment, and the silence inside was a prayer.

Wear your seat belts! Have a sober, designated driver! Don’t ride with a driver who is drunk; and, don’t let others drive drunk. Few of these messages ever squeeze past the arrogance of youth; especially when they are drinking.

It is up to parents, teachers, emergency room nurses, police, pastors, youth leaders, bloggers, best friends and caring strangers to enforce a sanity on our kids. We need to speak up and speak out!

Maybe the best gift we can give a kid this Christmas will be to take the keys away.