2008 Woodie Awards
The Truth About Road Rage
By Satira Tajdin-Labib
9/24/07 - Features
When the topic of "Road Rage" is brought up, people generally laugh. They assume it's something exaggerated by the news, just like everything else. Road rage is real. The statistics are real. People dying from other people not thinking, this is road rage. My life is real and after you know what I lived through, you will be a firm believer in "Road Rage."
As a child I grew up in the suburbs of Houston, Texas. If anyone knows anything about Houston, they may know it is not the best place in the world to live, especially as a kid. However, my life was a normal child's life. I lived with my father, an Iranian immigrant, and my mother, a North Carolinian. I also lived with my older brother, who grew up enjoying life with me, and he was beside me on the worst night of my life.
It was the holiday season and we had been out shopping. It was nighttime as Dad started the drive home, my brother and I sitting in the back seat of an old Nissan Sentra. My father passed a car on the right and everything seemed normal. Nothing was normal.
The car began to speed up, and then passed us. My dad, who has a temper himself, got angry and sped up. We were starting to pass the car and were alongside but the driver would not let us in front of him. My dad floored it and we passed the car. After he had passed the other car, my dad pulled over. The car pulled over behind us. My dad got out of our car and walked towards the strange man's car. My brother and I looked out the back window. Rain started falling from the sky, and it was pitch black. The lights on the car made the only clear image of my dad and the man, just two silhouettes in the night.
Once my dad returned, he said he talked to the man and everything was going to be okay now. We started driving again. I watched out the rear window as the headlights of the car behind appeared closer and closer. Soon I was blinded, he was so close. Then he pulled to our right. He started swinging his car, trying to ram us into the curb. My mom was hysterical, she couldn't understand what was going on. What could we have done to make this man hate our family so that now he was trying to kill us all? My brother and I sat silent in the back. My dad pulled in front again, and pulled over.
As a child I grew up in the suburbs of Houston, Texas. If anyone knows anything about Houston, they may know it is not the best place in the world to live, especially as a kid. However, my life was a normal child's life. I lived with my father, an Iranian immigrant, and my mother, a North Carolinian. I also lived with my older brother, who grew up enjoying life with me, and he was beside me on the worst night of my life.
It was the holiday season and we had been out shopping. It was nighttime as Dad started the drive home, my brother and I sitting in the back seat of an old Nissan Sentra. My father passed a car on the right and everything seemed normal. Nothing was normal.
The car began to speed up, and then passed us. My dad, who has a temper himself, got angry and sped up. We were starting to pass the car and were alongside but the driver would not let us in front of him. My dad floored it and we passed the car. After he had passed the other car, my dad pulled over. The car pulled over behind us. My dad got out of our car and walked towards the strange man's car. My brother and I looked out the back window. Rain started falling from the sky, and it was pitch black. The lights on the car made the only clear image of my dad and the man, just two silhouettes in the night.
Once my dad returned, he said he talked to the man and everything was going to be okay now. We started driving again. I watched out the rear window as the headlights of the car behind appeared closer and closer. Soon I was blinded, he was so close. Then he pulled to our right. He started swinging his car, trying to ram us into the curb. My mom was hysterical, she couldn't understand what was going on. What could we have done to make this man hate our family so that now he was trying to kill us all? My brother and I sat silent in the back. My dad pulled in front again, and pulled over.
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