This is why you're photographed when you speed.
Head shot of George Greaves.
My name's George Greaves.
George walking with his back to the camera down a path in the cemetery.
In 1995 at the age of 28 while I was working overseas, I received a phone call.
(Music starts) George walking on same path in the distance being watched by his son.
to tell me that my only brother, at the age of 24, had been killed in a car accident.
Close up of George’s son watching George walk.
Back to George walking with his back to the camera down a path in the cemetery.
From that day forward, March 17th, my life has never been the same.
George veers off the path and stops and kneels at Craig’s [his brother’s] grave and brushes grass off the gravestone’s surface.
He wasn't there to be at the birth of my children.
George’s son sitting in the car looking at a picture of Craig.
He was not there for my wedding day.
Back to close up of George’s face as he is cleaning Craig’s gravestone.
You know, to share my wedding day, to be my best man at my wedding.
Close up of George’s hands as he is cleaning the gravestone. There is a small picture of Craig inserted on the gravestone in the corner.
Close up of George becoming emotional looking at Craig’s grave.
I get angry at Craig because he's not around to share those special moments with me.
Close up of the gravestone where the text ‘Brother of George’ can be read.
At my brother's funeral there was a thousand people at his funeral.
Close up of the picture of Craig that George’s son is holding. Slow pan up to see George’s son looking at the picture.
So when you're speeding, think about the people that it affects.
Close up of the picture of Craig inserted on his gravestone.
The person who had to sell their house where the accident happened
Close up of George where you can see a tattoo of Craig’s face on his inner arm.
because he couldn't live there anymore because he knew that a young boy had lost his life.
George placing his hand on Craig’s gravestone. The tattoo of Craig is visible.
To drive on the road is a privilege, it's not a right.
George kneeling by Craig’s grave in the distance with the sun beginning to set through the trees.
For me to live my life safely is a right, it's not a privilege.
I don't want people to go through what I go through.
Close up of George starting to cry.
The pain, the heartache, the misery that I feel every day of my life.
END OF TRANSCRIPT.