By Tomas Alex Tizon
Los Angeles Times
HELENA, Mont. — To Andrew Vandaele, the right to drink and drive is as fundamental as the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. And if you don't agree, well, nobody's forcing you to stay in Montana.
Vandaele, 68, is a retired refrigerator repairman, a lifelong Montanan and self-described "regular guy." He has sipped and steered his entire adult life and says he doesn't plan to change.
"I'm driving home from the lake. It's hot. I pop a beer. As long as I'm not drunk, what's wrong with that?" Vandaele says. He's never hurt anybody. There was the night in 1968, coming home from a Christmas party, where he got a DUI, but even then, he says, he was never out of control. At least not that he remembers.
He and thousands of like-minded Montanans, including some leading legislators, are a main reason why some drunken-driving laws can't find traction in Big Sky country. Such laws are seen as infringing on the state's live-and-let-live spirit, an attitude one legislator sums up as part of the region's "cowboy culture."
Even a leader of the state's Mothers Against Drunk Driving (MADD) chapter, Bill Muhs, who has lived in Montana for two decades, concedes the cultural aspect.
"There are still people here who measure distances in six-packs," Muhs says. "Bozeman to Billings is a six-pack drive. Bozeman to Montana City is a two six-pack trip. Crossing the state would be a whole case."
The latest collision of law versus culture took place last month when a MADD-supported bill banning open alcohol containers in vehicles was voted down despite vigorous lobbying from Gov. Judy Martz.
Federal agencies report that 36 states and Washington, D.C., have laws banning open containers of alcohol in cars, and an additional 11 ban drinking while driving.
Montana, Wyoming and Mississippi are the only states left with no federally approved law prohibiting the practice — and, not coincidentally, these states have among the highest numbers of per-capita traffic fatalities involving alcohol.
Montana's major cities — Bozeman, Billings, Butte and Helena — each have open-container laws that apply within city limits, and half the state's population lives in these cities. This helps explain why a 1999 survey found that 74 percent of Montana residents believed the state already had such a law.
But once you leave the cities, you can open a bottle of any kind of alcohol and drink it while tooling down the highway. And most of Montana's 70,000 miles of paved roads are open highway. With less than a million people living in an area larger than Germany, Montana is one of the most sparsely populated states in the country. Driving is a necessity.
Montana was one of the last states to raise the legal drinking age from 18 to 21. Motorcyclists aren't required to wear helmets, and police aren't allowed to stop motorists for not wearing seat belts. For three years in the mid-1990s, Montana had no highway speed limits, allowing motorists to drive as fast as they wanted on the open road (the limit is back down to 70 on freeways).
According to national highway statistics, Montana is second only to Mississippi for alcohol-related traffic deaths per 100,000 people. Last year in Montana, nearly 270 people were killed in traffic accidents, and up to 47 percent of those accidents involved alcohol. The national average is 39 percent.
State Rep. Jim Shockley, chairman of the House Judiciary Committee, made sure the open-container bill did not make it out of his panel for a vote. The Republican from the town of Victor (pop. 400) says many legislators would have voted for the bill merely to be politically correct.
A retired Marine and the only lawyer in his hometown, Shockley is depicted by MADD officials as one of the Wild West characters who defends the culture of drinking. The 58-year-old legislator doesn't mind the characterization.
Like many Montanans, he's an avid outdoorsman. He hunts, hikes and rides his mules.
But rough-and-tough living is what Montana is all about, he says. For someone to tell him it's wrong, after a day of hunting or hiking in the hot sun, to pop open a beer in his pickup — "Well, that's just too much," he says. It's nobody else's business.
"People say it's (drinking) part of the culture, and I think it is," Shockley says. "As long as you're sober, I don't see the problem. It's not the government's role to tell us what our culture is. The government should reflect the culture, not the other way around."
Hiccup
