The Virginian-Pilot
                            THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT  
              Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: Monday, May 27, 1996                  TAG: 9605270034
SECTION: LOCAL                   PAGE: B1   EDITION: FINAL 
TYPE: Column 
SOURCE: Guy Friddell 
                                            LENGTH:   51 lines

WHEN THE ROLL IS CALLED UP YONDER - DON'T FLY BY

What impressed me on a round-trip Thursday along Interstate 64 between Norfolk and Richmond was that nearly everybody was driving 70 mph.

A few motorists were doing 65 or so and some were going 75 and a few 80, but the prevailing speed was 70 mph, as if 70, instead of 65, were the legal limit.

In the stream of fairly heavy traffic, bunches of a dozen to two dozen cars moved at 70 with intervals of a mile or so between each flock.

Twice a trooper had stopped a motorist who had been traveling, perhaps, during a gap, a hare racing between briar patches.

For a trooper to pull in a column of 24 motorists was hardly practical. To collar two dozen, as if they were dogies, would require, maybe, a tandem with one trooper coming up on the rear of a fast-moving procession and the other laying hold its head.

A poll among friends disclosed that many tend to travel between 68 and 70 mph. Motorists inching up to 70 may have been influenced by the recent debate when Congress lifted the national limit. Limits vary among states.

During Thursday's trip, a radio newscast noted that one in five motorists has a car phone and that one in 10, while using the car phone, has a near miss in traffic.

A colleague, editor Fred Kirsch, had an eerie experience. Driving on an interstate, he noticed motorists to the right and left of him jabbering on phones. ``I was surrounded by car phone conversations!'' he said.

Car phones, useful for getting help in emergencies, can become distractions that cause emergencies. A driver, focusing his or her mind on what is being said, loses sight of what's ahead, and crashes.

Another hazard is drowsiness. In a doze of seconds, a driver wakes up in a wreck. When fatigue sets in, one had best stop for a coffee, soft drink or a nap.

On a trip late at night in early May, when none of the three were handy, I opened windows and sang one hymn after another at the top of my voice, bringing in the sheaves, leaning on the everlasting arms and throwing out the lifeline. It worked, although lights flashed on in nearby houses in my wake.

Speed, mixed with drugs, drowsiness or car phones, brings unacceptable risks. No onset of reality is as harsh as a car crashing.

I have to be honest with you, occasionally. A year or so ago, I was ticketed for speeding on what seemed then, but no more, a vital mission; another time, two seconds of drowsiness nearly did me in. What frightened me even more was the possibility that others could have been involved.

Sixty-five seems fine.

One may lose a few minutes.

But save lives. by CNB