DEAR ABBY: I am writing to request a piece you printed some time ago. It was called "Please God, I'm Only 17." My nephew, 17, was just killed in a car accident. Would you please run it again? Thank you, Abby. -– KATHY KNUTTER, INDEPENDENCE, MO.

DEAR KATHY: That piece is one of the most powerful I have ever run in my column, and it's one of my most frequently requested. Young people confirm that it has made them think twice about their driving habits and encouraged them to be careful. You are right; it should run again. Read on:

PLEASE GOD, I'M ONLY 17

The day I died was an ordinary school day. How I wish I had taken the bus. But I was too cool for the bus. I remember how I wheedled the car out of Mom. "Special favor," I pleaded. "All the kids drive."

When the 2:50 bell rang, I threw all my books in the locker. I was free until 8:40 tomorrow morning! I ran to the parking lot, excited at the thought of driving a car and being my own boss. Free!

It doesn't matter how the accident happened. I was goofing off -- going too fast. Taking crazy chances. But I was enjoying my freedom and having fun. The last thing I remember was passing an old lady who seemed to be going awfully slow. I heard the deafening crash and felt a terrible jolt. Glass and steel flew everywhere. My whole body seemed to be turning inside out. I heard myself scream.

Suddenly I awakened; it was very quiet. A police officer was standing over me. Then I saw a doctor. My body was mangled. I was saturated with blood. Pieces of jagged glass were sticking out all over. Strange that I couldn't feel anything.

Hey, don't pull that sheet over my head! I can't be dead. I'm only 17. I've got a date tonight. I'm supposed to grow up and have a wonderful life. I haven't lived yet. I can't be dead!

Later I was placed in a drawer. My folks had to identify me. Why did they have to see me like this? Why did I have to look at Mom's eyes when she faced the most terrible ordeal of her life? Dad suddenly looked like an old man. He told the man in charge, "Yes, he is my son."

The funeral was a weird experience. I saw all my relatives and friends walk toward the casket. They passed by, one by one, and looked at me with the saddest eyes I've ever seen. Some of my buddies ware crying. A few of the girls touched my hand and sobbed as they walked away.

Please -- somebody -- wake me up! Get me out of here! I can't bear to see my mom and dad so broken up. My grandparents are so racked with grief they can hardly walk. My brothers and sisters are like zombies. They move like robots. In a daze, everybody. No one can believe this. And I can't believe it, either.

Please don't bury me! I'm not dead! I have a lot of living to do! I want to laugh and run again. I want to sing and dance. Please don't put me in the ground. I promise if you give me one more chance, God, I'll be the most careful driver in the whole world. All I want is one more chance!

Please, God, I'm only 17!

What teens need to know about sex, drugs, AIDS, and getting along with peers and parents is in 'What Every Teen Should Know.' To order, send a business-size, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 ($4.50 in Canada) to: Dear Abby, Teen Booklet, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, IL. 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)

DEAR ABBY: I was amused to read about the woman who plucked her "whiskers" at the table in the restaurant. I know EXACTLY why she does it –- especially if she sits by the window. It's because the light is probably better than at home!

Obviously she needs a lighted magnifying mirror at home – and she definitely should do her tweezing there. Tsk, tsk, so unmannerly. -– J.G. IN FRESNO

DEAR J.G.: You are not the only reader who was moved to write about the public plucker. Read on:

DEAR ABBY: Perhaps you should have consulted an expert in geriatric medicine regarding the letter about the woman tweezing the hairs on her chin. It could be a textbook symptom of senile dementia.

My guess is, as our population continues to age and some caring friends or relatives are willing to take our senior citizens out of the nursing home for a meal in a restaurant to provide a little variety in their lives, we're probably going to see more of this behavior in public places. Get over it! Wisely, the man with this woman has given up on the idea that she's capable of changing her behavior and ignores it. He just makes sure her tweezers are in her purse before he takes her out! –- BEEN THERE, DONE THAT, CINCINNATI

DEAR BEEN THERE: Oh, if it would only stop at plucking! Read on:

DEAR ABBY: If "Harriett in Hollywood" was astonished when a diner in a restaurant plucked her chin hairs at the table, hear this:

A few years ago, we were enjoying a lovely luncheon in a nice restaurant in Florence, Ore. The couple at the next table had just finished their meal. While they waited for the check, the gentleman whipped out his dentures and swished them in his water goblet, while his companion watched the waves on the shore. –- BESS IN EUGENE

DEAR BESS: Now I've heard everything. Obviously he mistook the goblet for something he could sink his teeth into. Read on:

DEAR ABBY: Basically I agree with your answer to "Harriett in Hollywood," that the woman displayed bald indifference to common table manners. However, her eyesight may be failing and the window seat at noon offered her the light she needed to complete her tweezing task. Bad taste, yes. She may also have limited funds, and therefore be unable to have this task performed for her at her beauty salon. However, I believe we should be a little more tolerant of our seniors, and more charitable. –- DAILY READER, ALTOONA, PA.

DEAR DAILY READER: I agree -– but how about applying that philosophy of tolerance and charity not only to seniors but to everyone as well? There would be less depression and fewer stress disorders if people were slower to criticize.

CONFIDENTIAL TO NERVOUS GROOM: Ogden Nash gave sage advice for wedded bliss that applies to both the bride and the groom:

"To keep your marriage brimming,

"With love in the loving cup,

"Whenever you're wrong, admit it;

"Whenever you're right, shut up."

Abby shares her favorite recipes in two booklets: "Abby's Favorite Recipes" and "Abby's More Favorite Recipes." To order, send a business-size, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 per booklet ($4.50 each in Canada) to: Dear Abby Cookbooklets I and II, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, IL 61054-0447. (Postage is included in price.)

DEAR ABBY: I am writing this on behalf of all people who are blind or visually impaired. You would be doing them a service if you would remind your readers that blind people are not "strange" or to be feared; they are ordinary people who, for whatever reason, cannot see.

I do volunteer work with the blind and hear the same stories over and over. I've finally concluded that most sighted people do not understand what blindness is all about. 1. Blindness is not contagious. My students tell me that people frequently back away from them when told they are blind.

2. Blind people are not hard of hearing; you don't have to raise your voice when you speak to them.

3. There are different degrees of visual impairment. Some have lost their peripheral vision, but can see straight ahead; others have only peripheral vision, while others have cloudy vision and can see only in bright light. Still others are totally blind.

4. Blind people cannot drive a car, but they can do just about everything else a sighted person can do, if given the chance.

The public needs to be educated on the white-cane laws. Only those with a visual impairment are allowed to carry white canes, and motorists are required to stop for anyone carrying one.

Guide dogs and service dogs, those wonderful creatures who give independence to the blind and other disabled people, are to be respected. DON'T try to pet one when it is in harness. They don't bite, but by distracting the dog, the owner may be put in harm's way. If you feel you must pet one, ask permission first! And parents, for heaven's sake, teach your children never to pet the dogs. I have seen young children rush up to a guide dog and hug it.

Thank you, Abby, for spreading the word. -– EILEEN PARLEE, CATHEDRAL CITY, CALIF.

DEAR EILEEN: Thank you for a letter brimming with helpful information. There are many agencies nationwide that work with people who are blind or have a visual impairment. I would urge anyone who knows someone who has lost his or her sight to encourage that person to seek training so he or she can live independently. It can be done, and is being done.

DEAR ABBY: With reference to the letter about the 57-year-old grandmother raising a 7-year-old grandchild, let me tell you a wonderful story:

A young mother died giving birth to her third daughter. There was no one in the family to take the three girls, ages 6, 3 and 6 weeks old, into their homes. The great-grandmother came forward and took care of all three little girls. She was 83 years old at the time. How do I know this story is true? The 6-week-old child was my neighbor.

The great-grandmother lived until she was 99. So, Abby, all things are possible with the help of God. -– DELORIS ROBINSON, DENVER

DEAR DELORIS: Thank you for an inspirational letter. I have received many letters over the years from people asking, "Abby, am I too old to ...?" Your letter proves that if the desire and determination are strong enough, no one is too old.

What teens need to know about sex, drugs, AIDS, and getting along with peers and parents is in "What Every Teen Should Know." To order, send a business-size, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 ($4.50 in Canada) to: Dear Abby, Teen Booklet, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, IL 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)