| METRO NEWS | TODAY • October 1, 2000 |
Teen
driving: A rite of passage parents can't
brake
Craig Schneider - Staff
Sunday,
October 1, 2000
The most horrifying thoughts raced through Melanie Griffis' mind while she watched her 16-year-old daughter take her driving test.
As the teen slowly weaved her car through the orange traffic cones, the Mableton mother recalled a car accident 13 years earlier that sent the blond girl crashing through the windshield.
"There was not a square inch of her body that wasn't cut or scraped," she said.
Griffis doesn't want to go through that again. So like many parents sending their children onto the roads of Atlanta, she did so a bit reluctantly, afraid that Lacey would soar into her newfound independence with pedal to the metal.
"It's frightening," said Griffis, 49, who lost her first husband in an Atlanta car wreck. "They can be gone in a minute."
For 16-year-olds, receiving that Georgia driving license is a great moment in growing up. Now they don't have to ask mom and dad for rides to the mall or movies. Now they can do what they want, when they want.
"It's going to be nice --- controlling what I can do," said Gilbert Guevarez of Marietta.
But parents watching their children take the road test last week in Marietta had a different perspective. They feared they may never have another restful night. And they saw themselves living in a world of worry while their teenager is out having fun --- until the headlights pull up in the driveway.
Many are even more worried since learning that 16 metro Atlanta teenagers have died in car crashes involving a 16-year-old driver within the past six months.
That's why Carol Rea is having her daughter sign a contract. The document will restrict Leslie Rea from driving with other teens in the car for three months. It will hold her to a 10:30 p.m. curfew and prohibit her from using a cell phone behind the wheel.
"Kids die all the time on the road. We want our kids to be safe," Rea said.
For anyone familiar with Atlanta's hard-charging traffic and lane-changing high jinks, the 10-minute road test may seem too easy. It's not even performed on a road, but rather a barren parking lot dotted with orange cones. The parents waiting in the hot sun Saturday afternoon were fully aware that this was not the real world.
Their worries didn't require a lot of imagination, considering recent events that included the death of two 16-year-olds a week ago while they allegedly were drag racing in Kennesaw.
"I just feel there are too many teenagers driving too fast, with their radios turned up loud, on their cell phones, checking their pagers," said Rea, who lives in east Cobb near Johnson Ferry Road, "where everybody seems to drive fast."
Rea, like many parents, would like to see the legal driving age raised in Georgia, believing that a little more life experience is in order. But she knows her daughter doesn't want to hear that.
For parents, their child's getting a driver's license ranks among those rites of passage where they lose some hold on their kids, like the first day of school or going away to college.
In a way, Rea looks forward to not having to drive her daughter everywhere. And she hopes she's taught the girl well. Lessons started on slow neighborhood streets and school parking lots, then gradually moved to Johnson Ferry Road. Rea spent $200 for an extra driving course, beyond what the school offered.
But Rea knew it was time to let go as her daughter entered the white Honda Passport for her driving test.
It was the first time Leslie had been at the wheel without her mother or father beside her.
The girl's hands shook a little on the steering wheel, and she admitted later that she thought for a moment she might cry.
Along the course she knocked down a cone during her parallel park. But she passed the test.
All the kids taking their test Saturday felt they were ready for the road.
"I can't wait to be driving --- without her bugging me," said Donna Blow, 16, of Douglasville, glancing at her mother.
Her mother, Michelle Carroll, said, "If she gets any tickets, she loses everything."
Someone not to be found in line for a road test was James Hills, who, despite reaching 17, has yet to receive his parents' permission to take the test.
"I don't think he's mature enough. He's still a kid," said his mother, Wanda Hills.
Her decision had to endure a "big child's temper tantrum" replete with slamming doors and stomping feet.
But the east Cobb mother believes the final decision on driving lies with the parents.
"When you think about it, the most dangerous thing you'll do on any given day is drive a car," she said, criticizing many young drivers.
"I don't want to add to the problem."