Charles Shiflett Column October 2, 2005

It's Happened Again...

Ken was a great guy. He was funny and easy going... the kind of person you enjoyed hanging out
with. Virtually everyone in our high school liked Ken and he had no shortage of friends.

We grew up in the same church together and had known each other since we were little kids. My
grandparents and his parents were good friends. So Ken was one of the first persons I thought of when
I needed someone to fill in for me one Friday night.

It was August 1977 and I was just a few days away from starting my senior year in high school. Ken
was a year behind me. Darren, one of my best friends, had a female cousin coming in for the weekend
and she was bringing another girl with her, so we planned a blind double date… me with the cousin
and Darren with her friend.

Then fate seemed to intervene. Back then I worked part-time after school as a cook at the local
steakhouse. Around 4:00 PM on the Friday of the big date, my boss called in a panic. The main cook
was sick and he needed me to cover.

I wasn't too happy about it because this cousin I was set up with was supposed to be a doll, but duty
called. I phoned Darren and he and I put our heads together to come up with a sub… Ken Loyd.

I went on to work that night and was late getting home. The next morning my mom came into my room
about 8:00 AM and said she had heard on the radio that there had been a bad wreck late Friday night
involving two Cedartown High students and one had died.

I believe it was my grandmother who phoned a few minutes later with word that she heard Ken Loyd
was the one who died. I was stunned. I immediately called Darren's house to find out what happened.

Being typical teenagers, they had decided to go riding around on some country roads late that night.
No one had on seat belts when they rounded a curve and hit a pothole. The car flipped and Ken was
thrown from the vehicle. The others suffered various injuries, but none were too serious… however Ken
was killed.

That Saturday was one of the toughest days of my life. I constantly played the “what if” game in my
mind. If I hadn't worked that night I might be dead instead of Ken. Or more plausibly, with me on the
date instead of Ken, different decisions would have been made and the timing of the evening would
have been altered so that the wreck would have never occurred. Either way Ken would be alive.

Last Saturday when I awoke to hear the news about the deaths of two local teens in a single car traffic
accident, it reopened those old wounds again. The girls were classmates of our youngest son, who is
a senior at Cass High; and I know the mother and some other family members of one of the girls.

Over this past week I've thought about the family members and friends of both of the young ladies. The
initial shock they felt… followed by the grief, the unbelief, and the “what ifs” they've probably
experienced.

As much as we want to protect our children, we can't keep them locked away. Life happens along the
way and good people make bad mistakes. I know I made my share of serious driving mistakes as a
teenager and am fortunate to be here today to write this column.

Every year it seems we lose an inordinate number of young lives on Bartow County roadways. Even
with recent changes in state driving laws and a renewed emphasis on driver training education it's not
enough.

Bartow County is covered with roads like Old Grassdale where these latest fatalities occurred… roads
that are winding, curvy, having improper grades and poor visibility. When most of these roads were
built or first paved, there was very little traffic on them. Today, even many of these side roads have
high traffic counts with motorists regularly traveling at excessive speeds.

These roads were not designed for the traffic they are now receiving. We as a community can only
blame ourselves for allowing the residential, industrial, and commercial growth that has occurred along
many of these obsolete roadways without requiring the roads to be improved first.

It's also important that we look at and strengthen the current penalties for businesses or individuals
who supply alcohol to those who are underage.

The wheels of government turn slowly, while other wheels sometimes turn too fast. In the meantime,
we can only hope other Bartow families don't receive an unwanted late night phone call like the one
Ken's parents received 28 years ago.