Nope, never – not my Nash Rambler, my previously owned Chrysler, my Pontiac Le Mans, my cool Mustang, my Cougar convertible, my hard-top Cougar, my Oldsmobile Cutlass Ciera, my Plymouth Volare station wagon, my Acura Legend, my Nissan Infiniti, or my Toyota Avalon. I have been blessed with excellent driving skills which have allowed me to avoid crashing any of my cars. I believe the care, attention, and maintenance I have studiously provided over the years to each and every one of them contributed to my unblemished safety record.

Not everyone, however, has been so respectful of my car. Near the end of my first year at law school I was driving my Mustang from campus to a favorite watering hole, in excited anticipation of celebrating the final exam I had that day. Less than a mile from the main campus a car ran a red light, smashed into my car, and spun me around a telephone pole. I remember getting out of the car and staggering around, looking for my glasses which flew off my face during the crash. An ambulance arrived and took me to Providence Hospital. Fortunately, I was not seriously injured. I just lost some blood, had a cut on my chin which was stitched, and experienced bodily aches for several days. My car was totaled. The driver of the other car stopped momentarily after the crash, but then left the scene. A very attractive Catholic University undergraduate was about to cross the intersection when the accident occurred, and she was able to note the license plate of the other driver. A couple of weeks later I went to her dorm with an insurance form she needed to sign and learned that her last name was Eisenhower. I asked if she was any relation to Ike, but she said no, and commented that her whole family were Democrats. In addition to my good fortune in coming out of that crash with only minor injuries, there were two other happy results of that day, i.e., I got enough insurance money to buy my spiffy Cougar convertible and I got an A+ on that exam.

A number of years later my New Jersey client, Dan Scott, provided me with tickets to the Redskins-Giants game at the Meadowlands. The game happened to be the day before I was scheduled to travel with Carl Bauersfeld to meet with a client of his in Huntington Station, Long Island. Mr. Bauersfeld was a loyal Redskin fan so I suggested that he attend the game with me and that afterwards we would drive out to Long Island. I don’t remember why, but I drove my wife’s Chevrolet on that trip. It started to rain after the game (ugh, Redskins loss) and while we were driving on the expressway to Long Island two vehicles in front of us abruptly stopped, and I then had to as well, but the car behind me could not stop and rammed into the rear of Claudia’s car. Although the damage to the rear appeared to be extensive, the car was still drivable, so we continued the journey to Huntington Station. The client, who was the owner of a pool supply company, greeted us at his spacious home where we stayed on the trip. He was in his 70’s and had what struck me as a great approach to his work. He would start each morning by going to a favorite diner for breakfast, and then go to his office where he handled phone calls, reviewed mail and orders, and met with employees. At precisely noon he would go to a local club and have lunch with a couple of martinis. Then he goes home to nap the rest of the afternoon until cocktail hours. My observation of his routine made me question whether I should stay in Long Island and sell bathing suits and pool toys instead of being a lawyer. 

But I digress. When this wonderful man saw Claudia’s car on that rainy Sunday night, he said to me, “we’ll get it cleaned up for you tomorrow. You don’t want to take it home to the missus in that condition”. I was incredulous that the damage could be repaired in just one day, but he had connections, and sure enough I was able to drive that Chevy home the following day, looking as immaculate as ever. I toyed with the idea that I didn’t even have to tell my wife that somebody crashed into her car on the Long Island Expressway, but I did come clean about that. The only repercussion of my confession is that she never let me drive any of her cars again.

I mentioned in the marvelous book ‘Tis The Drink Talking that I attended a reunion event at Catholic University about 15 months after my graduation from law school. The previous weekend I was visiting family in Scranton and there was a substantial snowfall which meant I could not drive back to D.C. to report for work on Monday. So I returned by bus. Since my car was snowbound in the Friendly City, I rented a car from Hertz for the weekend of the reunion. My apartment mate, Al, and his date, and his cousin from Erie, rode with me. The evening was long, and it turned into early morning. We left an after-party at a professor’s house in Prince George’s County, MD, around 5 a.m. I first delivered Al’s date to her dormitory, and from there started to drive to my apartment in NW D.C. Al soon fell asleep in the back seat. Then his cousin fell asleep in the passenger seat next to me. Then I fell asleep. The car kept going, however, for a couple more blocks before a tree hit it, waking all three of us up. It seemed like only a minute or two after the crash that a neighborhood resident rapped on my window and asked if we had our seat belts on. I thought that it was weird for anybody to be taking a poll or survey instead of asking if we were hurt. A fire truck and two ambulances soon arrived. There was some smoke coming out from under the hood. The ambulances took Al’s cousin and me to Sibley Hospital. I explained that Al was in the car also, but he was nowhere to be seen when the emergency vehicles arrived. I learned later that Al was in shock but managed to walk the rest of the way to our apartment. I was again fortunate to not have any serious injury from the accident. Al’s cousin had a broken nose and some lacerations, but also was not seriously hurt, thank God. 

While being examined at the hospital I noticed a D.C. policeman standing outside the exam room. I asked the nurse what he was doing there and she said that he had to take me to the local precinct to be charged, which really scared me. I was thinking “jailtime” and wondered who I could call for bail money. The charge, however, was just “failure to pay full-time attention”, and since I had fallen asleep at the wheel, I didn’t think I had any cause to protest the charge, so I paid the fine and hailed a cab to get back to my apartment. The next day I went to the Hertz rental facility to report that I had an accident with their car and it was severly damaged. I was asked to complete an accident form for their insurer, and after completing that the Hertz agent asked me if I would like to rent another car. It was astonishing to me that Hertz would offer that after I just totaled one of their cars.

Now there were a couple of little incidents where I was driving my own car, but they were not car crashes. They’re known as innocent fender-benders. It happened once at a right turn yield sign. The driver of the car in front of me gave every indication that she was going to pull out, but then did not. Misinterpreting her intent, I moved forward and kissed her vehicle. The lady got out of her car and walked to the rear to see if there was any damage. She looked and then said to me, “that’s what bumpers are for, right”, and proceeded on her way. At some later date I was stopped in the middle of a traffic jam on the Beltway when a car tried to squeeze into my lane, but in doing so he struck the rear of my car. The driver was a young kid and he was nervous as hell. I got out of my car, looked at my fender, and remembering that lady, said, “that’s what bumpers are for. Have a nice day.” The kid seemed greatly relieved and just responded, “thank you, thank you”.

Speaking of bumpers, I must say my favorite crashes, which I really enjoy, is driving a bumper car at the Dodgem in an amusement part. What can be more fun than driving one of those bumper cars with the sole intent of crashing into other bumper cars, especially one driven by your 9-year old kid who gets trapped by the tires in the middle of the attraction and doesn’t know how to steer out of it, so you can continue to whack your bratty kid until the ride is over. Also, next to Whack-A-Mole, the Dodgem experience is a great way to take out aggression.

And that’s all I have to say about car crashes.