Alcohol abuse wrecks lives

Mort Kothmann, class of 1961 and Texas A&M ecosystem science and management professor, rides his bicycle to campus regularly, pumping the pedals with feet he's lucky to have. He's lucky to walk. He's lucky to be alive.

"I didn't expect to survive," Kothmann said. "I told God he was going to have to explain that, if I lived."

In July 1997, Kothmann, his wife Kathy, his mother-in-law and four of his grandchildren were on their way home from a family reunion in Arkansas when they were hit by a drunk driver about four miles outside of Buffalo, Texas.

"When I topped the little hill, he was about 200 feet away," Kothmann said. "I had the cruise control set on 70 [mph] so we would close that 200 feet in less than a second. It happened."

The Buick Regal hit Kothmann's minivan on the front left fender. The impact was so strong that the other car was pushed to the middle of the road, the entire front of their car was gone, the steering wheel was on top of the windshield and the engine was in the front seat.

After the impact, Kothmann noticed his right foot lying on the emergency brake between the captain's chairs. His left foot was jammed under the seat by the crushed floorboard. The impact knocked a piece of bone halfway down his leg, resulting in an open compound fracture.

When Kothmann tried to check on everyone's safety, only the oldest grandson, who was 8, responded. Kathy, who had been riding in the backseat next to her granddaughters, had sustained head injuries and was unconscious.

"I was not seatbelted in the split second before the wreck. The 2-year-old had dropped her to-go cup from supper, so I had unbuckled to put the cup back in its holder," Kathy said. "I pushed the captain's chair that was in front of me over on top of the grandson that was in it, and I hit the floor."

Kothmann, Kathy and Kathy's mother were life-flighted to a medical center in Tyler. By 10 p.m., Kothmann was in his first of eight surgeries following the accident. Kothmann had broken his left ankle, stripping it to the nerve.

A few days later Kathy, who had broken ribs, a cracked hip and 24 staples in her head, was able to move to intermediate care on the floor below Kothmann and her mother.

"The doctors told me that both Mort and Mother at that point were 50/50," Kathy said. "They just didn't know."

Kothmann and his mother-in-law were put on ventilators after their chests filled with fluid. Kothmann began to get better, but Kathy's mother went downhill after getting pneumonia. The antibiotics for the pneumonia caused her kidneys to fail.

"My mother died on day 13," Kathy said. "So the last thing I remember is just her moaning across the hall."

Recovering to restart

Kothmann was moved to a hospital in Temple, and Kathy was sent home. She attended her mother's funeral without her husband. Kothmann could not leave the hospital until he could use his upper body strength to move himself from his wheelchair to sliding boards. Five days after returning home Kothmann was readmitted to the hospital for 10 days after prolonged adrenaline and pain stopped the blood supply to his gallbladder, killing it.

After Kothmann came home from Temple in September, the couple had two hospital beds in their living room until the end of October. The recovery process was slow. He had lost 30 pounds since the accident and began therapy in October.

"The first time she said, 'Lift your legs.' I said, 'I don't lift my legs.' So that's where we started," Kothmann said. "My goal was to be able to get on a walker so I could get about three steps and back. I made it by November."

Kothmann was able to walk without crutches after 18 months.

"Starting when I came off the ventilator in Tyler, every day for over a year, I did something I could not do the day before," Kothmann said.

Things will never be the same for the Kothmanns. Not only do Mort and Kathy both carry physical scars from the wreck, Kathy's mother is no longer with them, and the couple have found a passion in prison ministry. The Kothmanns share their story and participate in a program called "Bridges to Life" designed to show prisoners the impacts choices.

"We kind of had to restart," Kathy said. "It's like life before and after this wreck."

The Kothmanns had a mediation with their offender, so they could tell him they forgave him. The couple said that they never hated him but were more focused on survival.

"It has changed a negative situation into a positive one," Kothmann said.

Designating the wrong driver

Unlike the Kothmanns, Mark Sterner was not the victim. He was the intoxicated driver in a different accident that also resulted in death.

He was just a few months from college graduation when he and four of his fraternity brothers went on Spring Break. After that trip, his life was never the same.

"I think people believe 'it will never happen to me,'" Sterner said. "I am proof that they are wrong. It can happen, and it happens when you least expect it."

Each night of the trip one person was the designated driver, but the last night the group decided to let the least drunk among them drive home. Sterner was given the keys to the car.

After the single vehicle crash that night, three of Mark's friends were dead, and Mark was critically injured, facing three felony counts of manslaughter.

"I spent three years in a Florida prison," Sterner said. "The biggest punishment though was losing my friends. Every day I live with the fact that my actions killed my friends. It doesn't change; it doesn't go away, and it doesn't get easier."

Sterner works for Campuspeak, an organization that sponsors keynote speakers on higher education campuses. Sterner tells his story at more than 100 colleges and high schools each year, including Texas A&M last fall.

"I do it so that no one else has to live with what I live with," Sterner said. "I do it so that no one else has to live with the guilt of killing one of their friends."

Choosing safety

Sterner said he wants to educate students about the dangers of drinking and driving. Some A&M students think they are responsible when consuming alcohol, and they have a plan for the drive - or ride - home. Programs like CARPOOL provide an alternative to getting behind the wheel intoxicated.

"I think we are blessed at A&M. I think it's less of a problem here than other places, but at the same time there's definitely room for improvement," said Sam Houston, a senior communication major.

College towns have a reputation for being hazardous due to drunk drivers. Alcohol-related accidents comprised 3.26 percent of all accidents in College Station in 2009.

"I think in a college town it's probably more prevalent," said Jackie Dumais, senior history major. "We do have a campus that acknowledges it."

Houston is an employee of the Corner Bar on Northgate and has noticed that the student population seems to plan ahead for a night out.

"I've actually been surprised at the amount of designated drivers there are," Houston said. "We do everything we can to promote it, but there's already a sense of responsibility when they come into the bar."

Businesses promote safe drinking practices to keep College Station safer, but students need to encourage each other to be responsible.

"We do everything we can; we are more than willing to arrange a ride for them, and we ask them if we can," Houston said. "The more you encourage your friends to be responsible and the more you are responsible the safer everyone is."