To All Teen Drivers:

Just so you know, I'm probably going to sound like your mother by the end of this note. Or at least, I'm going to sound like my mother...which is a rather frequent occurrence, oddly enough.

For the first little bit though, I'm going to tell my story...or rather, Chris's story--because he's my reason for believing in this to begin with. (I love you brother.)

But to the point:

Some of you, if you know me in person (or if you've watched my videos all the way to the credits--"Thank you very much!") know that one of my brothers was involved in a serious crash several years ago. (Notice how I say crash, not accident; there is no such thing as an accident when it comes to a vehicular collision...there is always, always, ALWAYS some reason--a.k.a. 'fault'--for a crash.) What most of you don't know is what really happened.

Chris is not dead. Thank God and the guy who came up with that crazy little thing we call a seatbelt for that. To make a long story short, the rainy weather made for a slick interstate drive, and he was late for work and ended up hydroplaning, crossing the median and smashing face-first into the grill of an 18-wheeler...needless to say, his Honda turned into a green metal pancake.

Photo courtesy Anderson Independent-Mail

Chris literally had to be cut out of the mangled metal with the Jaws of Life and lifted from the wreckage and tiny shards of glass stained with his blood, only to be put in an ambulance, where he died twice en route to the hospital. The paramedics (if you're reading this, I thank you so much, beyond words) saved him, put a thud back into his chest, kept his lungs moving long enough to get him into a hospital bed, and from there, it was up to the doctors and God.

To be honest, this part is a little foggy to me. I've tried to block out most of the images...I was 10 years old at the time, so it was almost like a horror movie coming to life for me. But what I do remember is that the first time I saw my brother, I thought it was a cruel joke. I couldn't see his face because it was so mangled--bruised, bandaged...a cut on the right side that nearly severed his eyelid from his scalp...purple-colored....that was not my brother, it couldn't be. Chris always smiled...this man was not smiling--his lips were blue and swollen. He had various tubes and needles, wires, hanging from what seemed like every inch of his body...I couldn't hear myself think for the sound of numerous monitors beeping and buzzing all around him, measuring what signs of life he had. (I would say I couldn't hear him breathe, but it wasn't actually him breathing; rather, it was the ventilator tube stuck down his throat, a pump that pushed air into his lungs, that breathed for him.)

There was one other tube though, one I didn't quite understand. It was drilled into his skull, about two or three inches of pipe sticking straight out of his head...later, I learned that this tube was there to slow the bleeding in his brain. Just the thought of that...that he was there, unknowingly (and unwillingly) asleep, bleeding in his brain and nobody could do anything but wait and hope that he would get better...can you imagine?

Photo courtesy Anderson Independent-Mail

I remember touching his cold, swollen hand, telling him I loved him, then breaking into tears because I knew he couldn't hear me.

The next few weeks were tormenting. Chris was in a coma for nearly a month...during that time, he couldn't move or talk--he couldn't even breathe on his own. There were times when his doctors told us that there was absolutely no way he would pull through the night--that the next time I saw my brother, he would be in a box.

When he finally did wake up though, Chris found himself covered in bruises and bandages, stitched together, casts on all four limbs and metal rods in his legs to keep the shattered bones in place. I can't even begin to imagine the physical and mental anguish Chris must have suffered in that time--being unable to remember names, events...having to relearn how to walk...not being able to feed himself with a spoon, even though he was starving, because he couldn't remember how to hold it.

Perhaps the hardest thing for me, during Chris's recovery, was the first time I walked into his hospital room. He looked into my eyes, my small hand in his, and asked who I was--my own brother, my oldest brother, who had known me my entire life--couldn't remember who I was.

I'm lucky, however, that I'm able to complain about things like this. For some people, that question--that quiet, "Who are you?"--never comes. For some people, there is no second chance. The doctors never get to give a prognosis or be "amazed with a miraculous recovery", as they were in Chris's case. For those people, the story ends with the smoke and crushed metal. For those people, that is the end.

I'm not telling this story because I want anyone to feel sorry for Chris or for me. I'm telling this story to make a point (cue the mother voice). The police said the only thing that saved Chris was his seatbelt and the pure Grace of God. He was only 19 years old at the time, a licensed driver with a few years of experience behind him. However, the decision he made as a young driver to go too fast for conditions is one that has stuck with him, even to this day. He still walks with a limp, and he has brain damage that still hasn't healed--and probably never will. But at least I can say that my brother is alive. Some little sisters aren't so lucky.

Three things:

1. Always wear your seatbelt.
2. Never drive too fast (and this doesn't just mean drive the speed limit; if you see that conditions are bad for driving--weather, construction, kids playing in or around the road...etc.--slow down!).
3. Pay attention to the road (yes, that means cell phones, CDs, iPods, everything else can wait until you stop the car!).

Of course, there are several more tips and techniques for safer driving, but I think this post might be a little overwhelming as it is...

In Under One Second

Anatomy of a Crash in Less Than One Second (Without a Seatbelt)

• 0:00.1 The front bumper and grill collapse as the vehicle makes contact with a stationary solid object (what you hit).
• 0:00.2 The hood crumples, striking the windshield. The rear wheels lift from the ground, and the car's fenders wrap around the object. The car frame has halted, but your unrestrained body is still going 55 mph. Your legs stiffen against the crash and snap at the knee joint.
• 0:00.3 The steering wheel starts to disintegrate as your chest is propelled toward the steering column.
• 0:00.4 Two feet of the car’s front end is wrecked. The rear end still moves at 35 mph, and your body continues traveling at 55 mph.
• 0:00.5 You are impaled on the steering column, and blood rushes to your lungs.
• 0:00.6 The impact builds, ripping your feet from tightly laced shoes. The brake pedals come off. The car frame buckles in the middle. Your head smashes into the windshield as the rear wheels, still spinning, fall back to earth.
• 0:00.7 Hinges rip loose, the doors open, and the seat breaks free, striking you from behind.

What used to be your car is now a mess of mangled metal. There is smoke coming from beneath the hood. The windshield is broken. The airbags have deployed. One of your shoes lies on the roadway. By this time, someone has likely seen the crash and is trying to dial 911. So far, all the operator knows is that there has been an crash. The ambulance may not arrive for another 5-10 minutes.

The last three tenths of a second mean absolutely nothing to you because you are DEAD

**Editor's note:
This is just a glimpse of what could happen to you, your family, or your friends. It's a scary thought. One second is enough time to take a breath. So please buckle up--unless this is how you want that last breath to sound.

(adapted from http://www.vtchamber.com/pdf/NETSAnatomy.pdf)

By The Numbers

Okay, you already know that car crashes are the leading cause of death for teens. But do you know just how many teens die every year? Let's break it down:

Death by Numbers

• 6,000 teens die every year
• 109 every week
• 16 every day
• In 15 months enough teens will die to make up the population of a small town (population: 7,500)

Crash Frequency

• There is a crash every 5 seconds
• Someone dies in a crash every 13 minutes

Chances of Dying

• In a plane crash: 1 in 20,000
• By gunshot: 1 in 2,500
• In a car crash: 1 in 140

Welcome to 13 Minutes!

Welcome to 13 Minutes! This is a blog site made for teens, by teens, to save teens.

Car crashes are the leading cause of death for youth ages 15-19 in the United States. Every year, nearly 6,000 teenagers are killed on American roadways. This is not a game. A car is a deadly weapon, and too often, young drivers make simple mistakes that end up costing them their lives.

Our hope is that, by spreading awareness in the online community, we can save lives. If even one person is touched by the information on this site, then that goal is realized, and it is all worth it.

So we look forward to spreading the word, and we hope you will help us. Comments, suggestions, questions...you name it, we would love to hear from you. As for what the future holds, we hope to be able to incorporate multimedia as well as text sources that may interest you.

We are the next generation of American drivers...
Let's make a difference!