William Conerly, 79, cruises down U.S. Highway 1 in his 1996 Cadillac. Mr. Conerly, who could lose his license because of a traffic citation, says he is still capable of driving despite his age. JONATHAN ERNST/STAFF

When are you too old to drive?

With driving fatalities rising among senior citizens, older drivers struggle to determine

Web posted August 1, 1999

By Greg Rickabaugh
South Carolina Bureau

AIKEN -- William Conerly drove Army tanks in World War II. He ran big rigs for 35 years.

Today, Mr. Conerly struggles over whether to drive to the nearest convenience store.

The 79-year-old Aiken resident faces a question that an increasing number of Americans ask as they age:

When is it time to hang up the car keys?

Mr. Conerly believes his driving abilities are good enough to keep cranking up his pickup truck or one of his two Cadillacs. Despite battle injuries that left him with a bad left leg and arm, the veteran has driven safely for years to faraway places like New Orleans and New York State.

But last month, a police corporal with the Aiken Department of Public Safety pulled him over just a few miles from his home, saying he had almost caused two accidents and shouldn't be on the road. Cpl. Sandra Rogers gave Mr. Conerly an $87 citation and forced him to have his car towed home.

Cpl. Rogers says Mr. Conerly seemed disoriented. She wrote in a police report that his Cadillac Fleetwood Brougham had crossed the center line and remained there as he crept along two-lane Hampton Avenue. She said he turned directly in front of a vehicle, almost causing a collision.

After the traffic stop, the corporal asked the state Department of Public Safety to have Mr. Conerly re-examined, a request police can make for people with mental or physical disabilities. A 13-member state medical advisory board will consider whether to allow him to keep a driver's license, using the police report and a document from a physician of Mr. Conerly's choice. Until then, his license is still valid.

After the traffic stop, Mr. Conerly was clearly angry at the officer.

``I was disgusted,'' he said. ``She done messed me around, holding me back from getting my things done -- for nothing!''

Mr. Conerly said he was ordered out of the car by the corporal as she kept her hand on her gun. The officer searched his car, and her partner questioned him, he said.

``He was giving me a mental test, asking me: `What state is you in? What state you in?' I said, `South Carolina!' It's really embarrassing,'' Mr. Conerly said.

A drive through a quiet, small town should be nothing for a man who once drove ``Big Sherman'' tanks.

Mr. Conerly got his driver's license as a young man in New York before he was drafted to fight in World War II. In combat, his leg was riddled with machine-gun bullets, leaving him permanently impaired. Still, he stayed in the military for 26 years.

After he left the military in the 1960s, Mr. Conerly drove big rigs, hauling heavy items like steel, pipes, boilers and bathtubs around New England.

``I just had a lot of experience. And that's what hurts me,'' he said, referring to the traffic stop. ``I made a good living. I traveled many roads. I've been all around.''

He and his wife, Ruth, 70, take several trips a year, going to see relatives up North and in the Deep South.

Six days after he was ordered to tow his car home, Mr. Conerly drove all the way to New Orleans -- without incident.

``I was born and raised down in New Orleans. I just drove down there, and that's 600 miles. And ain't nothing happened,'' he said. ``I didn't see nobody acting up, or nothing. And nobody pulled me over.''

While he said he has never caused an accident, the traffic stop has Mr. Conerly thinking about his driver's license.

He insists he can still drive.

``I can see good. I got my license. I would stop driving when I see I can't handle the car,'' he said.

But he's not sure he wants the hassle of getting retested.

``I'd rather turn my license in if I've got to go through all that business,'' he said.

Mr. Conerly agreed to drive his black 1996 Cadillac Fleetwood Brougham around town for an Augusta Chronicle reporter and photographer. Mrs. Conerly, who normally travels with him on vacation trips, let Mr. Conerly go alone.

Just after 2 p.m. on a clear Wednesday, Mr. Conerly placed his cane in the back seat and climbed into the driver's seat of the black Cadillac. He inched out of the concrete driveway and maneuvered onto S.C. Highway 19 North, heading toward Interstate 20.

Several miles down the road, he noticed his first mistake.

``I didn't put on my seat belt, you notice? I just forgot,'' he said.

As he headed east on Interstate 20, vehicles passed him as he drove 55 mph in an area marked by fresh 70 mph signs.

At Exit 22, he pulled off and immediately came behind a slow-moving construction truck on U.S. Highway 1, a four-lane highway. Instead of passing the vehicle, Mr. Conerly stayed behind and reduced his speed, traveling as slow as 21 mph in the 55 mph zone.

Mr. Conerly frequently stopped well before a stoplight and generally drove well below posted speed limits. One middle-aged woman gave Mr. Conerly an angry glare as she passed him easing along Rutland Drive on his way home.

The day he was stopped, Mrs. Conerly was at home and drove out to pick up her husband. She is defensive about his driving, saying officers should be more concerned about drunken drivers such as Shayna Lively, who was sentenced to 25 years in prison for killing a father and his two daughters in January in a two-vehicle accident.

``You think she'll ever drive again? They should be out there looking for people who are doing all these drugs instead of picking on a person that drove all his life and paid taxes all these years. He just wants a little leisure, to go to a doctor's office, drive to the drugstore for medication,'' she said.

``Now, they are going to say he can't drive? Every time he gets ready to go someplace, he's got to depend on someone else. That's what bothers me the most.''

But when Mr. Conerly remembers the corporal who cited him he considers turning in his license.

``I'm thinking about it because I don't want to be aggravating that woman out in the street. She'll have it in for me,'' he said. ``She's liable to pull me over to just give me a ticket.

``I see old guys out here driving these big rigs. And old ladies driving. Ain't nobody bothering 'em. Why they got to pick on me?''

Mr. Conerly likes to talk about his 35 years driving 18-wheelers and his time with the Army.

``I had different trucks -- the Diamond Rea, the International. I had a Ford, too. Yeah, I enjoyed it, and I learned a lot,'' he said.

``In fact, I'm a crane operator too, but I'm retired. I know what I'm doing. I'm not crazy!''

Greg Rickabaugh is a reporter for The Augusta Chronicle. He can be reached at (803) 279-6895 or scbureau@augustachronicle.com.