Highway Hubbub and Marital Mayhem

Late last month, a stretch of Highway 160 bore witness to a spectacle of such bewildering absurdity that it almost got mistaken for a traveling circus had the performers not been so intent on ramming, jostling, and menacing one another at considerable velocity.

According to Sheriff Joe McGill, a poor unfortunate fellow found hisself harassed and harried by not one but two minivans, each allegedly driven with a degree of enthusiasm usually reserved for stagecoach bandits. The distressed gentleman, who had his wife in the car and a considerable dose of misfortune, rang up the authorities to report that his vehicle, a Nissan Rogue, was being actively battered by the two minivans as he hurtled along the highway.

Deputy Sedrick Sweet, the first to arrive on the scene, found the Rogue looking less rogue-like and more like a mule that kicked on both sides. Damage, he noted, was evident on the front, back, and both flanks—altogether a sorry sight. To make matters worse, the minivans, piloted by one Seth Jenness and his matrimonial counterpart, Cyndal Jenness, contained two young children, no doubt receiving an impromptu education in the fine art of highway hooliganism.

The bewildered victim recounted a harrowing tale: the minivans, in a display of rare coordination, had boxed him in on the highway, refused to let him pass, then chased him down with high beams flashing and horns blaring like cavalry in a B-movie charge. Rightly fearing that his home address was the last thing he wished to share with his pursuers, he led them on a strategic detour until help arrived.

Cyndal Jenness, for her part, had a different tale to tell. She claimed that her dear husband, Seth, had merely been brake-checked—an act she seemed to believe justified a full-blown vehicular assault. Her argument became diminished by the dashcam footage, which showed, in rather indisputable detail, that she had taken to ramming the victim’s vehicle with the kind of determination one might apply to cracking a particularly stubborn walnut.

But if Cyndal’s actions seemed overenthusiastic, Seth’s were downright theatrical. The man, when questioned, readily admitted to discharging his firearm—a detail one might think best left unspoken. Deputies later retrieved three shell casings along the highway, proving that Seth had taken it upon himself to add a bit of gunplay to the evening’s misadventure.

When all was said and done, the law, having exercised its patient forbearance, decided enough was enough. Cyndal was arrested on two counts of battery with a deadly weapon—namely, her automobile—while Seth was detained for assault with a deadly weapon, discharging a firearm where he most assuredly should not have, and the rather unfortunate charge of child endangerment, as his offspring had been along for the perilous ride.

Bail was set at $20,000 for Cyndal and $21,000 for Seth to inspire some reflection on the merits of peaceful travel. Meanwhile, authorities called the Division of Child and Family Services, as even the most thickheaded observer would agree that involving one’s progeny in high-speed vehicular combat is poor parenting at best.

Thus concluded another day in Nye County, where the highways remain as wild as ever and where some folks, it seems, prefer to settle their disputes with a minivan and a sidearm rather than a polite word and a handshake.