Unfortunately, it seems most of us are capable of road rage if pushed enough on the right day. David Simpson, 49, is normally a quiet, well-behaved dad, but his inner-Hulk explodes when he gets behind the wheel of a car. Last year, as he was driving his 13-year-old son to a Saturday morning soccer game, he approached a busy intersection in an inner-city Sydney suburb.
A late model European sedan was double-parked outside the local shops and was blocking traffic. A real estate agent was taking liberties with parking restrictions. With his son in the front passenger seat, David began shouting abuse and profanities at the man who had dared to slow down their journey. His son still talks about the incident – and the profanities.
One evening in 2015 a motorcyclist threatened Martin Kracheel and his friend as they were driving to play pool. When they drew too close to the motorbike in front, the rider slowed down and gestured to them to pull over. The biker walked over to their car, swearing and demanding they get out. “He wanted to punch us,” says the 33 year old. “It was tense.” Martin knew they had to do something to diffuse the situation – and quickly.
“We apologised, and he accepted the apology,” Martin says. It was a near miss. Drivers who get out of the car to make threats – and worse – are at the extreme end of the spectrum.
When anger is unleashed, it paves the way to a ‘tragic list’ of possible ugly outcomes we all need to be aware of, says traffic psychologist and educator Leon James.
Dave Crawford, 42, is a mild-mannered single dad – though not always. One morning two years ago, he was driving along a highway with his seven-year-old son in the car. They were heading out for a day of trailbike riding and were towing a trailer carrying two bikes. “There were no other cars on the road and we were moving at around 100km/h, when we passed a pack of cyclists,” he says. Without warning, the leader of the pack pulled out into Crawford’s lane to let the pack pass. Crawford had to brake hard, swerve and drive defensively to avoid hitting the man.
He managed to avoid hitting the cyclists but his car and trailer ended up facing the wrong way on the highway. Despite everyone being safe, Crawford was livid.
“I experienced a mix of rage and terror,” he says. “I checked my son was safe, then got out and marched through the pack of now stationary cyclists and found the reckless rider, an older man. “I heard someone apologise but I was seeing red,” he says. “I abused him until I felt better.”
Kirstie Robb, 38, was on the other side of the road-rage experience when she was driving her three kids home from school and the car in front of her stopped suddenly. The teaching assistant slammed on the brake, flinging her arm out to protect her 16-year-old son sitting next to her in the front seat.
Shaken, she pulled over to the side of the road when the other car did, and got out to see what the problem was. She could hear the other driver swearing at her angrily in his car and accusing her of not keeping a safe distance. The man, still sitting in his car, sliced his hand towards her face threateningly and continued to yell at her.
She told him to calm down, before offering him some unfriendly advice of her own. “Then before I could do anything he picked up an aerosol can and sprayed me in the face with red paint,” says Kristie. “When I opened my eyes, all I could see was red. I couldn’t breathe for a few seconds. I could hear my children screaming.”