Septuagenarian attempts walk to protest distracted driving
CROWN POINT, Ind.—John Zaboyan was drenched by rain as he walked alone along Route 231 in south Lake County.
"I love the experience so far, except it is coming down in buckets," he told me during a torrential downpour.
Zaboyan, 79, left his Crown Point home early that morning, heading alone on foot for Indianapolis. He's been planning to take this walking crusade to our state capital for weeks, ironically to protest against distracted driving, his crusade the past two years.
"The only method to make noise with elected officials in Indianapolis is taking that first step towards Indianapolis," Zaboyan said. "It is the only way for an average person to get a moment of an elected official's time."
Zaboyan wore a bright yellow poncho stating, "Simple! It is the law!" on one side, and "The way you drove the day you took your driving test."
He insists that motorists should drive just as they did for their test to obtain a driver's license. Not under the influence. Not while texting on a cellphone. Not while smoking or drinking or eating. Otherwise, moving vehicles turn into "speeding bullets," he said.
"To drive otherwise constitutes a breach of signed contract between you and your state BMV (Bureau of Motor Vehicles), which should make your driver's license null and void," he said.
I posted on my social media sites about Zaboyan and his solo walk, asking any readers in south Lake County to keep an eye out for him. Several readers did, alerting me with updates of his whereabouts and even cash donations or offers to stay the night at their home.
"I don't need money," he told me that night.
Instead, he asked for any donations to go towards a fundraising page for the five surviving children of the Portage couple
who were struck and killed by an alleged drunken driver while riding on their motorcycle last month.
"Those poor orphans," Zaboyan said.
I first met him in early 2017 when he launched Students Against All Distracted Driving, or SAADD.
"My only mission is to prevent further innocent carnage happening on our Indiana roads," he said. "The only crowd that may be sympathetic to my efforts are the losers of loved ones on Indiana roads."
Zaboyan is an Armenian who emigrated here from Lebanon to become a successful entrepreneur in the wristwatch industry, among other endeavors. He is upset with Americans who routinely, and casually, use their cellphone while behind the wheel.
"A car is not an office, not a restaurant, and not a social gathering place," Zaboyan told me last year. "No one should have to wind up on a stretcher due to someone else's irresponsibility or carelessness."
His attempts to raise awareness about this subject haven't been as successful as he had hoped, so he planned this solo walk to Indy.
"I have winged things all my life," he told me as he planned this trek. "Start first and then see what needs to be done and do it."
"I hope I can last a few days," he added. "But I will never know until I take the first step, as I have always done in my life. Start first, then confront myself at every step to do beyond my best. It is going to be fun."
After getting soaked from vehicles splashing him with roadside rain puddles, Zaboyan had to pause his walk until the next morning. "There is always tomorrow," he said. His wife picked him up in their car and dropped him off the next morning at the exact spot he last walked, near Hebron.
"I feel like I let people, and myself, down," Zaboyan told me.
The next morning, he continued his walk. His optimism rose with the new sunrise.
"One of the most glorious mornings of my life," he told me before continuing his walk toward Indy.
At the Kankakee River, Zaboyan text me: "I'm wind blown but higher than a kite emotionally."
That night, after walking 21 miles, his wife again picked him up, this time near Rensselaer. He hoped to continue again the next morning.
I wondered how long Zaboyan would continue his walking "crusade," though he has never used this word to describe his mission.
I feel differently.
I've met other people in our region who embody similarly impassioned crusades for one cause or another. Cancer research, anti-abortion efforts, gay rights, gambling addiction, suicide prevention, local politics—you name it, they have crusaded for or against it. And I've written about it.
Still, I can't think of any cause or crusade to pour all my energy into. Although I care, to a degree, about each of those issues, I don't care enough to dramatically alter my life as Zaboyan has done.
There's a part of me that questions his emotional fervor with this crusade. There's another part of me that deeply admires his passion for this cause, and his compassion for victims of distracted driving.
On late Thursday night, I received a surprising email from Zaboyan.
"I have to stop, to keep some sanity in my married life," he wrote.
He said he had mixed feelings, noting that his crusade had caused his wife a lot of anxiety for his safety. He also admitted feeling endangered while walking along Route 231, which has no pedestrian walkways.
"There's no walking space except uneven grass mixed with waterlogged gravel," he wrote. "Pounded with wind by every passing car, forgetting the tornado created by 18-wheelers as they pass two feet away from him at 65 mph."
I totally understood.
"I feel so empty inside," he told me. He shouldn't feel this way, I replied. He took action to back up his words, something too many of us fail to do.
I call it "distracted living" and I, for one, am a victim of it. I think I need a crusade to find my crusade.