Yesterday I crossed the Rubicon. All right, it was a Boulevard of Death.
Several New York City thoroughfare have earned that moniker over the years. I regularly crossed two of them—Queens and Northern Boulevards—when I lived in Astoria. The, like the one I traversed yesterday, are what transportation planners call “stroads.” While classified as city streets because of their urban settings, they have four or more long, straight lanes with long stretches between traffic signals. This setup encourages motorists to drive well over the speed limit.
“Stroads” often include merges with, and on- and-off-ramps for, major highways. They usually pass through commercial areas, which provide constant streams of cars pulling in and out of traffic. The stroad I crossed yesterday, however, cuts through residential areas.
Those residential areas include what have been, for decades, two of New York City’s poorest neighborhoods. In addition to the other difficulties of growing up and loving in poverty, residents have some of the worst health in the city and nation: Heavy traffic contributes to high rates of asthma and other respiratory illnesses and its un-walkability and lack of green spaces means that people don’t exercise much. (There also isn’t a gym, which most residents couldn’t afford anyway,) And because there aren’t supermarkets or even bodegas along the way, fresh fruits and vegetables, and other healthy foods, are difficult to come by.
And, in contrast with Queens Boulevard, under which a city subway line runs, and Northern, which includes stops for other lines and the Long Island Rail Road (yes, they spell it as two words), the “stroad” I’m talking about is miles from any train station. Local buses run along parts of it and on some streets that cross it, but it’s difficult to piece together a route from where people live to where they work, go to school or shop, let alone visit family and friends in other areas.
Oh, and many people who live along and near Linden share a trait shared by others, rich and poor, in the Big Apple: they don’t have cars, or even access to them. Thus, they are not the ones contributing to the nightmarish traffic situation.
The “stroad” in question is Linden Boulevard. It begins in Brooklyn, at Flatbush Avenue, and runs south and east for 20 kilometers (with an interruption at Aqueduct Race Track) to the Queens-Nassau County border, passing near JFK International Airport along the way. .In Brooklyn, Linden cuts through Brownsville and East New York, home to the greatest concentrations of public housing and percentages of residents—including children—living in poverty. Many of those kids must cross eight lanes of traffic—on some stretches, with no pedestrian islands or other barriers in the middle—to get to their often-overcrowded and under- funded schools. Some, and some adults going to work or to catch the bus, didn’t make it.
Linden Boulevard, like otner “stroads,” cries out for, in addition to pedestrian islands, dedicated bus and bike lanes and other improvements to mass transit and safety for anyone who is getting around without a car. Our new mayor, Zohran Mamdani, has announced plans for a redesign of the most dangerous stretch of Linden, which includes the intersection I crossed during yesterday’s ride. While nothing is mentioned about bike lanes, the other improvements I mentioned, including more points where pedestrians can cross, should at least help to cut down on the reckless driving that plagues it.
Redesigning “stroads” like Linden Boulevard, therefore, isn’t just a matter of convenience: It’s imperative for safety—and social justice.
