I met a girl named Nora Risha more than three years ago. She was a sophomore at McClintock High School in Tempe; I was a senior.
Our encounter was a quick one — no more than three minutes — and it materialized around a question about a yearbook. As far as conversation goes, it left a lot to be desired.
But in a world where first impressions reign supreme, Nora had the world wrapped around her finger. The reputation of warmth and of kindness that preceded her was justly earned, I had decided. She had that kind of smile that only the most genuinely nice people have. She was popular among our peers and for good reason — she had the air of someone who would do great good with her life.
And that’s why last Oct. 1 was such a punch in the stomach.
One year ago today, a van carrying Nora was passing through the intersection of 43rd Avenue and Cactus Road in Phoenix when it was struck by Armando Garcia Jacovo Jr.’s red-light-running silver Nissan.
He was drunk.
Nora, who had just begun her freshman year at ASU, was ejected from the vehicle and had no chance at survival. She was 18 years old.
Though only a first impression and pleasant acquaintance to me, she was someone else’s best friend, someone’s sister and someone’s daughter. Her only offense, like millions before her who have perished in car crashes, was being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
For his role in the collision, Jacovo will spend 15 years behind bars on murder charges; Nora’s loved ones will spend the rest of their lives wondering “what if?”
It is an unjust trade-off.
The decision Jacovo made that night stripped him of his decency. Like all of those who decide to drive under impairment, he was idiotic and had no regard for human life — his or others. And for what?
At the cost of a life, he got a few drinks and the convenience of not waiting for and paying for a cab.
No matter the content of his character outside of that night’s tragedy, his offense will always remain entirely inexcusable. He allowed himself to make the gravest of mistakes.
And yet, it is an error that is repeated nightly. In the U.S., an estimated 36 people per day die in car crashes that involve an alcohol-impaired driver, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. In Maricopa County alone, the county attorney’s office reported 132 deaths in 2008 from 4,240 alcohol-related crashes.
This type of tragedy can strike anyone at any time. In this particular case, it unfortunately hit the Risha family.
As I join them with reflecting on Nora’s loss today, it becomes abundantly clear that, as is the case with most tragedies, there is a lesson to be learned from this horrible loss: Our University community is not doing enough to curb the drunken driving problem.
The ASU student body can help be a part of the solution, but right now, it is a part of the problem. At the beginning of the semester, a four-day Tempe Police task force resulted in 165 DUI arrests.
Considering the number of parties, students drinking and attitudes of youthful invincibility on and around ASU, even coupled with a respectable police-to-citizen ratio, the amount of times drunk driving occurred near campus that weekend — and every weekend after that, for that matter — must have been astoundingly higher. All things considered, we have been blessed to lose so few.
Of course, looking back at Nora’s memory though, we have lost too many.
However, the goal of snuffing out drunk driving seems more and more lofty and unrealistic every day with every excuse and justification. As the trend of the general public becoming desensitized to the issue of DUI continues to skew upward, the hope tends to fall the opposite direction.
And therein lies the problem: It is often disregarded as a major issue.
Even for being one of the lone crimes that gains nothing and costs everything, drunk driving continues to take thousands of lives per year — 13,470 American people as recently as 2006, according to the CDC.
Nothing, not even reminders in the tragic form of victims like Nora, can serve as a complete deterrent.
This basic column has been written out before in many different iterations in many different communities. Countless columnists before me have pushed for change in enforcement policy, drinking culture and transportation options, but combating pervasive cultural issues cannot be done in swift and broad strokes.
On a micro level, there are some ways to put Band-Aids on the problem, and we can all have the ability to do these things (for example, staying sober and collecting car keys, employing cab companies, standing firm with potential drunk drivers, etc.)
Yet most people won’t, or don’t, do these things, whether for reasons of social acceptance, lack of willpower or otherwise.
For something that should be a moral imperative and should be a no-brainer issue of family safety, the lack of responsibility over driving under the influence makes no sense to me. Regardless, the string of “yeah, whatever, I’m fine to drive” excuses and permissive “OK, just don’t get caught” retorts could go to the moon and back.
In this culture, enforcement is the one step; personal responsibility is the giant leap.
Nothing can trump the anti-DUI strategy of imploring culpability and further instilling a proper sense of right and wrong in future generations.
Though it is an uphill battle, it can be won, especially if it is waged on a smaller playing field like ASU.
As a University, we have a lot of clout and a lot of resources to fix this issue in our community. Up to this point, the student body has not done its part.
And how could it not? We continue to have to say goodbye to friends and family. Every day, Nora is gone again.
It’s unacceptable.
How many more times must we go through this? How many more loved ones must weep and mourn? How many more promising young people like Nora must we lose too soon?
These are questions that go far beyond unacceptable — they’re confounding, they’re embarrassing and they’re unfair.
They also remain largely unanswered.
As the MHS, ASU and Risha families unite to remember one of our own today, it has to be time for that to change. We all deserve better. Nora deserves better.
You can visit norarisha.com to learn more about her life or make a donation in her name to a memorial fund for ASU’s Arabic Studies program.
Reach Ben at bberkley@asu.edu.