What the Heck Is Wrong With Florida?
Posted on | June 21, 2025 | Comments Off on What the Heck Is Wrong With Florida?

Anthony Reznick was 11 when he was killed
Sometimes you encounter a story that makes you so angry that words cannot express the intensity of your rage, and such is the case with Florida’s new “super speeder” law. Here’s the short version:
Gov. Ron DeSantis just signed a new measure creating extra criminal penalties for extreme speeding, marking the state’s latest move to improve road safety and deter reckless driving.
The legislation (HB 351) targets so-called “super speeders,” establishing criminal consequences for motorists who exceed the posted speed limit by 50 miles per hour or more, or who drive at 100 mph or more in a manner that threatens others or interferes with vehicle operation.
First-time violators may face up to 30 days in jail, a $500 fine, or both. Repeat offenders could receive up to 90 days in jail, a $1,000 fine, or both. If a second violation occurs within five years, the offender’s driver’s license could be revoked for up to a year.
Any driver caught exceeding the speed limit by more than 50 mph must appear before a Judge under a mandatory court appearance provision.
The measure, carried by independent Hollywood Sen. Jason Pizzo and Republican Reps. Danny Alvarez of Hillsborough County and Susan Plasencia of Orlando, passed unanimously in the Senate. . . .
While Pizzo had initially proposed a stricter version of the bill (SB 1782) that would have imposed longer jail terms, he accepted the House’s comparatively lighter version. Passing the measure on the Senate floor April 24, he jokingly referred to HB 351 as the “less good House bill.”
The legislation, he said, was partly inspired by the 2022 death of 11-year-old Anthony Reznick in Sunny Isles Beach. Reznick was struck and killed in a crosswalk by Samentha Toussaint, a driver with more than two dozen prior traffic citations and a suspended license. She was traveling roughly 85 mph in a residential zone without headlights and had no insurance.
Despite the circumstances, Toussaint was not criminally charged. A Judge suspended her license for eight years and ordered community service and fines.
[ insert shouted obscenities here ]
Before getting into the legal discussion, permit me first to share some anecdotes. When I was 17, a police officer told me, “You could’ve got yourself killed” and, smart-ass that I was (and still am, honestly), my reply was, “Yeah, but I didn’t.” No need to go into the details of that vehicular offense, but there was a serious point behind my arrogant sarcasm: There is a difference between a hypothetical danger and an actual event, which ought to be considered in traffic enforcement.
When I reflect on my driving history, I have to admit that those guardian angels — sent to protect me, by the prayers of my late Grandma Kirby, and subsequently by my dear wife — deserve tremendous credit for my survival, especially during my years on the campaign trail.
Remember that? The day after Christmas 2011, I flew into Iowa for the 2012 Republican caucus campaign, with reservations for an economy rental car, but the lady at the counter explained that the Rick Perry campaign staff had arrived earlier and taken every car on their lot, except one — a black Mustang convertible which, under the terms of the agreement, they were obliged to give me at the same rate as the economy car I’d reserved. The best eight days of my life ensued, and not just because Rick Santorum won the caucuses. One morning, I found myself “aggregating headlines while naked” from the Radisson Quad City Plaza in Davenport, on the east side of the state. There was a 3:30 Rick Perry event scheduled in Pella that day, and I calculated a 1 p.m. departure for a drive of approximately 150 miles. Knowing that I couldn’t drive more than 10 mph over the speed limit on the interstate, the key to my calculations was to max it out on the final 25-mile stretch from Exit 173 — down Highway T22 South through Killduff, hang a right on Highway F62 toward Galesburg, then a left onto Highway T14. Let me tell you folks, I took some of those curves at tire-squealing speed, and don’t even ask how fast I drove the straightaways on those country roads.
You think I’m joking and, from a strictly legal standpoint, I’m prepared to plead that this is just satire, rather than a confession of crime, because they’ve got no other evidence and the statute of limitation has probably expired, but I’ll leave that to Bert the Samoan Lawyer.
My point is that nobody was killed or injured as a result of my record-setting pace on those Iowa backroads. The basis of traffic laws is the hypothetical risk of an accident, but between my skill as a driver, the excellent handling of that Mustang, and the overtime labor of those guardian angels, there was no actual risk and therefore, no accident. Sure, there are nerds who can point to statistics about the correlation between excessive speed and vehicular accidents, but (a) correlation is not causation and (b) who gets to define “excessive”? Yes, I saw the sign cautioning me that 25 mph was the, uh, recommended speed for that tight curve, but if in fact I made it through safely at 50 mph, who’s wrong — me or the sign? But I’ve digressed long enough . . .
The funniest guy I ever knew, Scott Swanson, was killed in a traffic accident while a student at West Georgia College (now West Georgia University). It was a profoundly stupid accident, caused by his friend’s drunk driving, and the friend was sentenced to what’s called “five do 10” (a 10-year sentence, with five years suspended, if the convict has no further offenses after being released from the penitentiary). Trust me, the judge didn’t want to sentence an otherwise harmless college kid to five years in prison, but he felt that anything less would be an injustice. I forget what the exact charge was — negligent manslaughter or whatever — but most states have some similar law, like vehicular homicide:
Vehicular homicide, also known as vehicular manslaughter . . . is a criminal offense that occurs when a person’s negligent or illegal operation of a vehicle results in the death of another person. It’s generally considered a form of involuntary manslaughter, where the intent to kill is not required.
Hence my question: What the heck is wrong with Florida?
Don’t they have a vehicular homicide statute in the Sunshine State, and if not, why not? Instead of increasing the penalties on mere speeding — which, as I have pointed out at some length, is just a hypothetical risk — why doesn’t Florida law punish actually causing death as a felony?
After researching the origin of Florida’s new “super speeder” law — I.e., Samentha Toussaint and the death of Anthony Reznik — I’ve got some questions. 1/5 ?https://t.co/L09bw84SUN@senpizzo @JesseScheckner
— The Patriarch Tree (@PatriarchTree) June 21, 2025
Despite the fact that an innocent child died as a result of Samentha Toussaint’s reckless driving, the court treated this as a mere traffic violation! She suffered only a suspension of her driver’s license. 3/5
— The Patriarch Tree (@PatriarchTree) June 21, 2025
The fact that Samentha Toussaint escaped without ANY prison sentence for the death of Anthony Reznik is shocking to me, and ought to spur the Florida legislature to act. 5/5
— The Patriarch Tree (@PatriarchTree) June 21, 2025
This situation is insane. Toussaint was 32 years old at the time she ran over Anthony Reznik in February 2021:
Records show Toussaint has past citations for speeding through a school zone in Pembroke Pines, and for “following too closely behind a vehicle.” There are several infractions in South Florida courts ranging from careless driving to not having proof of insurance.
In Miami-Dade County alone, Toussaint has a laundry list of moving violations through the years, including seven separate citations for driving on a suspended license — infractions that date back to at least 2007.
Records show Toussaint still owes big fines for some of those past driving citations.
She had been a known public menace for 15 years, basically, and by the time she finally killed someone — running a red light on a residential street at 85 mph — you might think the courts would consider this something more than a mere traffic violation. The appropriate legislative response to this egregious situation would be to fix whatever loophole exists in Florida law that fails to punish vehicular homicide as a felony, particularly in cases with aggravating circumstances such as a prior record of driving on a suspended license, etc. Ramping up penalties on “super speeders” isn’t the right answer because there are plenty of “no harm, no foul” speeding cases that don’t deserve harsh punishment. Not saying that I’ve ever topped 115 mph on any country backroads, because I haven’t waived my right to remain silent, but if nobody was actually harmed by me driving fast, why should it be treated as a crime?
Some people are just born to drive, and I’ve got that hillbilly moonshiner chromosome somewhere in my DNA. which explains why I’m still alive. (Also, thank you, guardian angels.) On the other hand, some people are born to ride the bus, and should never be allowed to drive at all.
You can make your own judgments about Ms. Toussaint.
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