Two weeks ago, an older gentleman did something nice for a fellow motorist–something I have done on several occasions–and it cost the life of his grandson.

The two cars pulled into the parking lot of a convenience store at the same time. The grandfather and his grandson got out and started into the store, just as the other driver was walking in. “You ought to use your turn signal,” Grandpa said. “What? You talking to me?” the other man said. He was obviously on edge and perhaps spoiling for a fight. That should have signaled Grandpa to back off and let it go. But he didn’t.

“I was following you just now and almost hit you. You made that turn without giving a signal. I was just saying you ought to use your turn signal. It’s just common courtesy.” Simple enough, the older man thought. Just trying to be a good neighbor, doing his little part to make the streets safe.

What he did not count on with that the other driver was crazy. Or at least, afflicted with poor mental health, maybe having a bad day, and completely unwilling to suffer a rebuke from anyone. He retaliated with a verbal assault on the grandfather who, being human and reacting normally, he thought, responded in kind.

Three times now, the grandfather had miscalculated. First, in trying to correct the bad driver. Secondly, in not dropping it when the other fellow reacted poorly. And now, in not getting away before this thing escalated out of hand.

As their altercation intensified in energy and emotion, the stranger walked to his car and pulled a pistol out of the glove compartment. He pointed it at the older man and fired. The bullet grazed his head, but killed the grandson who had been standing nearby, the innocent bystander in all this. A tragedy of great proportions that did not need to occur.

As I see it, the blame for the child’s death goes squarely to the grandfather. He was the only responsible adult in this story and he surrendered control of the moment to the bad guy. He will spend the rest of his life grieving over the death of this beloved child and over his inability to control the impulse that was burning within him to correct the poor driving of another motorist.

My opinion is that road rage afflicts good people more than the crazies on the highways. We see someone creating a hazard for other drivers and feel a righteous indignation. “Someone ought to stop this guy; he’s going to kill someone the way he’s driving.” Deciding to be the good samaritan, we interfere with the bad motorist–pulling into his lane, slowing down, or some other ill-considered action–and end up loosing his craziness and putting ourselves and our loved ones in harm’s way. He responds in anger and we do likewise. Emotions escalate. Trouble is just ahead.

I have probably done what the well-meaning grandfather did a dozen times. I once gave a youthful driver a tongue-lashing for his foolish driving. When I finished, he said, “I have insurance.” I said, “What good will that do when you’re dead? Or when you kill someone else?” To his credit, he lowered his head and apologized and I drove off.

A couple of months ago, I was driving a rural Alabama highway, heading for the interstate that would bring me back to New Orleans, when a kid in a pickup truck suddenly appeared in my rear view mirror. He must have been doing 90 mph. First, he sat on my back bumper for a moment, then veered into the passing lane. I jerked the wheel onto the shoulder to keep from being hit and he went on by. To my astonishment, a mile up the road, he turned into a driveway. That’s when I decided to do so, too.

Not very smart, I grant you, but it turned out all right. I stayed in my car, rolled down the window and called to the young woman getting out of the pickup. “Tell him I want a word with him.” She said something to the driver, and he got out. He might have been 16 years old, with long hair and no shirt, wearing low-slung jeans and sneakers. I spoke softly. “Buddy, you almost killed us all back there. What were you doing?” He sheepishly said, “My grandmother is sick and we were hurrying to her house.” I said, “A lot of good it will do her to attend your funeral. Because that’s where you are headed, the way you are driving.” He muttered, “I’m sorry.” I said, “Okay. Just drive carefully, friend,” and pulled away.

My wife was not along that day or she would have feared for her life, with good reason. We live in New Orleans where you do not want to rebuke another driver for anything. You never know how he will react. Good intentions on my part cannot compensate for the hostility in him. Funerals have been held for many a motorist who was simply being helpful, intending to correct the other driver’s poor habits.

The Lord, my wife, and I have teamed up to work on this tendency of mine to teach other drivers about responsibility and neighborliness. It’s a huge project and still a work-in-progress. We do not expect it to be completed for some time yet.

Here are the five lessons learned to date.

1. It all starts with loving my family and my neighbor as myself.

I’m confident that sad grandfather would tell you today that he loved his grandson dearly. Nothing in the world–no amount of assistance to any other driver on the highways–would be worth the life of that child. Yet, his foolish insistence on correcting the other driver cost that very price.

Even if I speak to 99 poor drivers about their faulty skills without a single problem, if the 100th driver reacts in hostility with deadly violence, it’s far too risky and not worth the effort. When that happens, the people hurt most are my family members. Even if I’m alone and the only one hurt, my wife and children and grandchildren who love me and depend on me in this life will pay a great price for my lack of discipline.

Out of love for my family, I will drive carefully and control the impulse to teach the other drivers lessons.

2. I must change my expectations about each trip.

My goal is simple: to arrive alive. Everything else is secondary to that.

To do that, I must expect certain conditions to occur on the streets and highways.

I expect there will be some careless, preoccupied, and even hostile drivers on the highways. So I must be alert and not let it shock me when one happens into the area where I am driving. Every city, every community, has drivers who think the highway belongs to them and who constantly push the envelope, seeing how much they can get by with, what close calls they can survive. I must expect this.

I expect that I will be offended and want to do something to stop the destructive behavior of the other driver. But I must not do it.

I expect to get out of his way, to minimize the danger my family is in.

I will expect the highway patrol or some other authority to take care of the other driver. My job is to get home safely and alive.

3. I must take seriously what the Scriptures say about dealing with fools.

Anyone who spends much time on the streets and highways has many opportunities to see fools in action. Now, I am well aware of our Lord’s prohibition against calling one’s brother a fool (Matthew 5:22). This is not about calling anyone by that name, but merely recognizing foolish behavior when we see it. The highways seem to attract them the way honey does flies.

The Book of Proverbs gives repeated instructions on what to do in the presence of a fool.

“Leave the presence of a fool.” (14:7) Get away. Pull onto the shoulder of the highway. Get in another lane, anything. Just get out of his way.

“A fool rejects his father’s discipline.” (15:5) If he rejects the instructions of his own father, he surely will not welcome yours. Stifle that urge to straighten him out.

“The discipline of fools is folly.” (16:22) It doesn’t work. Don’t even try.

“A fool does not delight in understanding.” (18:2) He does not want to know. Anyone trying to teach a fool is wasting his time.

“Do not speak in the hearing of a fool. He will despise the wisdom of your words.” (23:9) You are casting your pearls before swine, as our Lord said on another occasion. Save your breath. Do not even speak to the other fellow.

“Do not answer a fool according to his folly or you will also be like him.” (26:4) Get into a verbal tussle with him and soon you have stooped to his level. This is a no-win situation.

“A fool always loses his temper, but a wise man holds it back.” (29:11) An undisciplined person’s temper is like a time bomb that may be set off by anything and may go off at any time. A wise person controls his tongue. Drive on down the highway.

The words of Proverbs 17:27 say it all well: “One who keeps a cool head is a man of understanding.”

Keep your cool.

4. Therefore, I will resist the urge to teach the other fellow anything.

I do not know that other driver. We have no relationship of trust. This is not my position or my responsibility. I will pray the Father to show him the foolishness of his ways before he is killed or kills someone. But I won’t do it. I’m out of here.

5. I will give myself a pat on the back when I get it right.

Every time I resist the urge to return to another driver what he has rendered unto me, every time I control my urge to give him a piece of my mind, every time I refuse to allow myself to follow that bad driver and look for a chance to correct him, every time I get it right, I will be proud of myself. I’m improving. I’m growing. I’m becoming a disciplined person.

Not long ago a young woman named Donna sat in my office and told how she had just gotten out of drug rehabilitation. She wanted to get back into church and start some positive habits. At one point she said, “I think about what I did before I went into rehab and I’m horrified.” She said, “I would be stoned out of my mind and driving my little girl to school. It was so crazy. I would speed and run red lights and cut other drivers off. And this with my little girl strapped into her child’s seat. What in the name of heaven was I thinking?”

While Donna was grieving over her life on drugs, I thought about the other drivers on the highway when she was endangering them. Suppose one had decided to try to stop her and teach her a lesson. She was on drugs and out of control. Absolutely beyond reason and completely unteachable. The best thing the other drivers could have done–and presumably did–was to get out of her way.

After all, the object is to arrive at one’s destination alive.

I once heard Billy Graham say, “Perhaps we need another commandment. ‘Drive unto others as you would have them drive unto you.'”