Collective responsibility

Life is a very fragile thing.
There are an awful lot of things that have to go right for the lights to stay on, the roads to stay clear and for Miller High Life to have such a smooth, simple taste. There are a ton of . . .

people that keep all these (equally) important systems humming along in the background, cogs in a machine too big for anyone to fully comprehend. The systems that support the dainty lifestyle North Americans have come to expect are typically taken for granted and only noticed in their absence. All it takes to snap us out of our collective reverie is for things to go drastically wrong.
Take driving for example. It’s something that most people do every day, but is reliant on a wide range of both mechanical and human parts working in harmony to function properly. The car has to start, the plow operators have to be on time, and the other drivers have to stay in their lane for this intricate production to go off without a hitch.
Last week, a man from Cobden had a brush with fate that demonstrated how tenuous this whole arrangement really is. On a routine drive from Arnprior to Pembroke, Martin Burger was zipping along Hwy. 17 with his teenage son when things went horribly awry.
A large chunk of ice blew off a vehicle travelling opposite Burger, smashed through his windshield and struck him in the face. Miraculously, he was able to pull his vehicle over safely while blood poured down his face and his son dialled 911. In the end, he walked away with a dozen stitches to his face and an eye injury that is expected to heal.
It could have been so much worse.
Burger could have lost control of his vehicle. He could have had his head taken off by frozen shrapnel. As he pointed out, his 16-year-old son could have been behind the wheel.
All this carnage could have taken place, just because someone didn’t scrape all the ice off their vehicle. It’s a relatively quick and easy chore, but one that plenty of people (myself included) often don’t bother with. The justifications come quickly to mind: “Other people do it.” “I don’t have the time.” “What’s the worst that could happen?”
To quote 20th century philosopher king Fred Rogers: “We live in a world in which we need to share responsibility. It’s easy to say, ‘It’s not my child, not my community, not my world, not my problem.’ Then there are those who see the need and respond. I consider those people my heroes.”
You may not feel like a hero scraping your car and freezing your butt off in the morning, but as Burger found out, even the most mundane actions can have repercussions larger than you can imagine.
Caleb Nickerson