The Lane Ranger: Adult pays for teen's driving error
Wife of man who lost eye in wreck crusades for more restrictions
Joey Ledford - Staff
Sunday, February 18, 2001

There's yet another perspective on our teen driving dilemma, the forgotten victims of teenage inexperience.

Dennis Dillon personifies that perspective. Just 34, the father of a bubbly 22-month-old girl, Dillon was on his way back to work on a sunny midday last May 19 after getting an allergy shot and grabbing a quick burger.

The Lawrenceville man remembers turning onto Old Norcross Road, a busy four-lane highway with a grassy median.

"It's kind of like I think I saw a car go out of control, but never saw it come across the road," he says. "The doctors say that's usually the case in an accident like this. There's no recollection of the accident."

A 17-year-old who police say didn't even have a driver's license was in a Mazda 626 she'd apparently borrowed from her boyfriend. Witnesses and police say she lost control at more than 60 mph, apparently while trying to change lanes and discovering there was a car in her blind spot.

The car careened across the 10-foot-wide median and struck Dillon's 1993 Dodge Dakota Club Cab head-on.

Tragically, she and a companion were killed; police said neither was wearing a seat belt. A second passenger, who was wearing a seat belt, was seriously injured, but survived.

Dillon, a former bus driver and motorcross racer well schooled in defensive driving, didn't have a chance to avoid the crash. Police say he locked up his brakes and left 30 feet of skidmarks before the violent impact.

Dillon was wearing a seat belt and says he would have died without it. His truck did not have an air bag, and he might have walked away if it had.

"I don't know if the steering column hit my head or my head hit the steering column," he says. Whichever, it sheared off and caused frightful injuries.

"He lost his left eye," says wife Jeanne, a special education teacher who has nursed Dillon back to health while also caring for baby Anna. "He's walking, but you can see the limp" from a heel broken so badly that it required a steel plate.

His nose was almost torn from his face and as a result he's lost his sense of smell, which makes his job as an electrical technician more difficult. He's already had five operations and faces at least two more.

"My neighbor actually saw the crash, though he didn't know it was me" until later, says Dillon. "He won't talk about it. He has nightmares about it.

"I got all the pain, but I never saw the problems," he says. "Jeanne saw my face smashed in; this guy saw the accident. They've suffered a lot."

"He was a mess," she recalls. "His face was the size of a watermelon. His left eye was definitely dislodged. . . . There was blood everywhere."

Though they've both suffered a lot, the Dillons have nothing but praise for the people the crash has brought into their lives.

"I'd like to send a warm fuzzy to . . . the doctors, nurses, paramedics and the trauma team at Gwinnett Medical Center," says Jeanne.

Both Dillons also rave about a passerby, Lynn Hogan, who stopped and stayed with Dennis during his darkest hour. "Lynn was Dennis' guardian angel," says his wife.

Jeanne has become an advocate for tougher teen driving laws, though both recognize no law would have prevented Dennis' crash. Jeanne e-mailed several Georgia legislators and was disheartened with only one reply.

"One dirtball wrote me back and basically said we should live free or die," she said. "He was against any change in the law."

She favors more education for teen drivers and tougher restrictions like those currently being considered under the Gold Dome.

"My hope is that one day those in power will realize that teens aren't just killing and maiming themselves, but adults as well," she says.

Georgia is also in dire need, says Jeanne, for more of a law enforcement presence on its roads.

"We're from Maryland and we lived our whole lives there," she says. "The things that happen here just wouldn't happen there. You can't drive 85 mph on the (Washington) Beltway."

"I still hurt every day," says Dennis. "I may have a limp for the rest of my life. But the eye is the real torture. You can't imagine the loss of that."