Crunch City

Wright is heading back to work, driving a 1997 Dodge Neon north on the West Loop. He's coming from getting his vision checked at the Wal-Mart off the South Post Oak Road exit. Well, he wanted to get his vision checked, but there was no optometrist on duty. Wright, 29, found out he needed glasses when he went to get his driver's license renewed. They told him to look into a little machine, and when he couldn't read some of the letters, they refused to re-up his license until he corrected his vision.

A light, fine rain is falling. The freeway asphalt is at its most dangerous. Better if it was pouring hard; that would wash away the mixture of oil, dirt and moisture that now coats 610 like a piece of wet plastic.

To get back to his job at Sharpstown Mall, Wright needs to exit 610 onto the Southwest Freeway. He's been down this road hundreds of times, so he knows there will be a knot of vehicles waiting to make him even later than he already is. There are five lanes of traffic; Wright needs to be in the second one from the right. But he cruises along in the middle lane, passing the long line of cars, waiting until the last minute to duck into the exit lane. It's a dance performed daily by thousands upon thousands of local drivers. Only this time, Wright is about to become another statistic on the treacherous roads of Houston.

Why are our streets littered with crumpled vehicles? Why is Texas in general -- and Houston in particular -- so dangerous? Why can't we all just slow down?

There are more answers to these questions than there are cars stuck in traffic. One thing seems certain, though: The situation is liable to get worse before it gets better. This month, workers began installing 55-mph speed limit signs on area freeways as part of a federal clean-air initiative. Some predict that the tangle of slowed-down drivers, hard-core speeders, ticket-writing police officers and rubberneckers could create the kind of chaos not seen since the government abolished the national 55-mph limit in 1995.

There were 45,228 motor vehicle accidents in Houston in 1999, the most recent year tabulated by the Texas Department of Public Safety. That's almost 125 wrecks per day. They killed 228 people and injured 55,358. That's 5.7 fatalities per 100,000 residents, and one of every 88 Houstonians involved in a wreck.

Among major Texas cities, only San Antonio, with 6.9 deaths per 100,000 residents, surpassed Houston's death rate. The rate in the Austin area was 5.3, and Dallas had 5.1 deaths per 100,000 residents. One in every 72 Houston residents was injured in a motor vehicle accident, more than in any other major city except San Antonio, with one in 59 people injured.

"Houston drivers are just nuts," says one insurance company representative from Austin. She didn't want her name used, fearing it would show an industry bias against Houston, which has some of the highest insurance rates in the state. Auto accidents in Harris County, plus the resulting medical expenses, cost insurers $679 million in 2000.

"You'll be in traffic on the freeway and see people driving up embankments to get to the access road," the rep says. "And that's not even the worst thing you see. It's crazy out there."

Texas usually leads the nation in motor vehicle fatalities. There were 3,769 people killed on Texas roads in 2000, the most recent year for statistics from the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration. California is in second place, with 3,753. And it has nearly 33.9 million residents, while Texas has 20.9 million.

Alcohol was a factor in 50 percent of all fatal accidents in Texas, compared to a national average of 40 percent, says Bruce Shultz, a state NHTSA spokesman. Texas trailed only Alaska, with 52 percent, and Rhode Island, with 51 percent, in this category.

Mark Twain, of course, reminded us that "there are three kinds of lies: lies, damned lies and statistics." So in looking past the numbers, the first thing that separates Houston from most other places is attitude. Folks in this town are aggressive, arrogant and in a hurry. Call it the Enron syndrome. We identify with the cowboy, the wildcatter, the astronaut -- types not to be found in the slow lane.

"People down here are very aggressive. That's what makes Houston Houston," says Dennis Brown, a motivational speaker who specializes in "attitude training" for clients like Southwestern Bell, Exxon, Texaco, The Houston Business Council and Texas Southern University. "People here realize they have the opportunity to make their dreams come true, and they go after it. Houston has a swagger that other cities don't have."

Brown moved to Houston 25 years ago from a tiny town in Louisiana. "One of the biggest adjustments I had to make was on the freeways," he says. "You have to be more aggressive and know what you're doing, or someone will run right over you."

Valentino Vargas, who teaches at the local Bilingual Safety driving school, sees more trouble ahead with the lower speed limit. "It will make things more problematic," he says. "People will have to change their habits again. It's hard to adjust. Mentally they'll still want to go 60, 65 miles per hour. Plus they'll see other people cruising and not getting caught. It'll be like, 'Hey, let's go!' "