Toyota’s announcement last week that the leading global automaker was recalling more than two million of its cars due to accelerator issues suddenly transported me back in time to September 1990. I had just turned 16 and inherited my mother’s American Motor Company Jeep Wagoneer, which I nicknamed Nazer after the vehicle’s license plate: NZR 156. Yes, I still remember the number, if only because I saved the red Missouri tag for many years.
JV Water Polo practice had been cancelled that Friday afternoon – a rare event that was especially welcome because our football-playing counterparts had an early afternoon contest against Ladue High. After Coach Shaw’s unexpected announcement, we scrambled to make it to the game, just a few hundred yards away fom the pool.
Leaving the locker room, my friend Sum asked if I could give him and V a lift to his house – literally on the other side of Warson Road and on the way to the game – so that he could pick up his gray Camry. It seemed like a reasonable request, so I dropped Sum off with V. My best friend and team co-captain Noey rode with me.
I implored the Sum – who had been driving for about a week – to drive safely. The irony of that statement when weighed against what transpired next is as thick as the LA smog that I now breathe every day.
Pulling out of Sum’s driveway, I looked at Noey and said something along the lines of “let’s see what this baby can do.” It was obviously a joke. The Nazer had no real acceleration capabilities and the car shook when it exceeded 70mph. Nazer was the prototypical 90s SUV – cumbersome, sluggish, and devoid of power.
So in jest, I floored the pedal for a few seconds. It was supposed to be an eyeblink quip.
The accelerator had other ideas. Inspired by the force of my size 9, the pedal got stuck under the mat and Nazer showed its first-ever display of gas-guzzling prowess.
Panic set in. Nazer’s engine whined from the added torque and speed and a 90 degree turn was dead ahead. Even Maverick would have had trouble negotiating this turn.
I stomped repeatedly on the pedal in a last-ditch effort to free it from the grip of the mat.
Nothing.
I desperately attempted to make the turn – at about 40mph and on bald tires.
No dice.
I blacked out.
When I came to, we were sideways in a patch of trees and bush. “What the (expletive) just happened” I remember shouting out loud in disbelief and shock. Noey, in the passenger seat, was adjacent to the ground. We exited from my window. Thankfully we were not hurt.
My first visual recollection, after we climbed out of the car, was of Sum and V barreling down Fielding. Both were tall and lanky, demonstrating excellent running form. They offered that the crash was very loud. I think I had a brief moment of pride, like Clark Griswold in Vacation when Rusty tells Clark that he hurled the family truckster 50 yards after failing to yield to a Road Closed sign.
We dusted ourselves off and I noticed I had pissed myself slightly, the ring of urine in my pants equaled the size of a quarter.
The paramedics arrived shortly thereafter. “How are you still alive?” the first responder asked. We agreed.
After spending a brief stint in the ambulance to have our vitals checked, both Noey and I refused further medical attention. Then our parents arrived. The tow truck came and pulled Nazer’s twisted metal frame from the brush. It was DOA, totaled.
Noey went on with Sum and V to watch the football game. I went home with my mom and later cried in my sister’s bedroom after realizing that I could have easily killed myself and a friend.
So when Toyota said it was recalling several million vehicles because the accelerators could stick under the mat, I couldn’t help but think of that September more than half of our lives ago. I replay the scenarios: what if practice had not been cancelled, what if I told Sum to (expletive) off and walk home to get his car, what if we drove straight to the game or better yet just walked the few hundred yards, or what if I had decided not to be a jag off and guided Nazer down Fielding Road like any normal driver?
All of that speculation is academic. Almost 20 years have passed and that sequence of events, while still clear, does not hold the same chilling totality as it did in the months and years that immediately followed. Plus, the Nazer incident seemed like the first of many stupid things that I and others did as punk highschoolers: diving off my parents’ poolhouse head first, riding on the roof of a friend’s Trooper at high speeds, etc.
The Nazer incident only makes for a fond and funny memory because nobody got hurt – or ended up dead. In that respect, the Toyota recall is no laughing matter as a handful of deaths have been reported from accidents caused by faulty accelerators.
As millions of Toyota owners head to dealerships to get their vehicles repaired, I’ll continue to count my blessings from that September.
By the way, I’m pretty sure Ladue won the game.
February 1, 2010
MiscelLAneous 