Showing posts with label Tony Nelson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tony Nelson. Show all posts

08 June 2022

For The "Chain Gang"

Yesterday, six years had passed since an intoxicated driver mowed down five members of the "Chain Gang," a group of experienced cyclists in the Kalamazoo, Michigan area.

To this day, it is one of the worst such incidents I've heard or read about.  Charles Pickett Jr., as it turned out, had a history of DUI charges before he plowed from behind into nine cyclists.  Paul Gobble, Jennifer Johnson, Paul Runnels and Sheila Jeske were injured and faced long periods of physical therapy and other kinds of recovery. On the other hand, Debbie Bradley, Melissa Fevig-Hughes, Tony Nelson, Larry Paulik and Suzanne Sippel did not survive the horror.



Photo above, l-to-r:  Melissa Fevig-Hughes, Suzanne Sippel, Debbie Bradley, Tony Nelson and Larry Paulik


I felt the need to re-memorialize them, however briefly, in light of yesterday's post.  Would Ms. Bradley, Fevig-Hughes and Sippel or Mr. Nelson and Paulik have been "asking for trouble," as per the pearl of wisdom of that sage Amanda Holden, if they'd been wearing cameras?  Or what if Mr. Gobble and Runnels and Ms. Johnson and Jeske had them?  

I can just see someone like her at a trial, telling other jurors the "Chain Gang's" choice to record their ride caused Charles Pickett to drive his van into their backs.  Would any other jurors go along with her "reasoning" that the riders brought the tragedy on themselves?

Fortunately,  the judge in the case saw the tragedy for what it is and meted out what was probably the longest sentence available under the circumstances:  40 to 75 years, with no possiblity of parole. (In case you're wondering:  Michigan hasn't had the death penalty since 1846.)  So, Pickett won't see the world outside of prison walls until he's 90 years old.

Of course, that sentence--or Pickett's expressions of remorse--will do nothing to bring back the five cyclists he killed or help the ones he injured.  But at least it's good to know that there was some measure of justice served on behalf of innocent victims, whatever else someone like Amanda Holden might want people to believe.

27 October 2018

My Kingdom For--Three Feet?

How is this so complicated?  Just like when a slower vehicle is in front of you, wait until there is no oncoming traffic and pass them.

Give credit to Shaun Jordan for exhibiting common sense (Some would argue that phrase is an oxymoron!) in assessing a new law.


That law is commonly called the "three feet rule", for the berth motorists have to give cyclists when passing them.  This law was passed in Michigan, partly in response to the horrific crash that, two years ago, took the lives of Debbie Bradley, Melissa Fevig-Hughes, Tony Nelson, Larry Paulik and Suzanne Sippel near Kalamazoo.  





(I must say that even though I've never been to Kalamazoo or knew the victims, and have written about them before, I still find it difficult to write about them!)





After that crash, politicians as well as everyday citizens spoke of the need to make the state's roads safer for cyclists and pedestrians.  But the backlash against the new law is widespread, as it always is when motorists "lose" their "rights."  As one Debbie Brown Donaldson whined, "This is sooo stupid!  We need to slow down to practically nothing for a NON-motorized vehicle that isn't registered or licensed.  Who the (fill in the blank) makes these rules?"





Well, Ms. Donaldson, what if that "NON-motorized vehicle that isn't registered or licensed" were a horse?  Or what about any other animal--or pedestrian?  Would it trouble you to slow down for them?  Or would you run them over?


At least other commenters had more sense--and less of a sense of entitlement--than Ms. Donaldson. "Everybody that is up in arms about three feet.  Honestly?" wondered another.

28 September 2018

Three Feet: Better Than Nothing?

Two years ago, one of the most horrific car-bike collisions I've ever heard of occurred near Kalamazoo, Michigan.

Debbie Bradley, Melissa Fevig-Hughes, Tony Nelson, Larry Paulik and Suzanne Sippel were out for the ride they took together every week for more than a decade.  Sheila Jeske, Paul Runnels, Jennifer Johnson and Paul Gobble joined them.

As they pedaled, a blue Chevy pickup truck was barreling along the road in the same direction--"erratically", according to three people who called it in to the police.  

Moments later, that truck plowed into the cyclists.  Jeske, Runnels, Johnson and Gobble would spend months in recuperation and therapy.  They are riding again today, though with more difficulty.

Still, they are more fortunate than their riding buddies:  Bradley, Fevig-Hughes, Nelson, Paulik and Sippel were killed almost instantly.  



In response to that tragedy, and others, a law was proposed earlier this year.  It would have mandated that motorists give cyclists a five-foot berth when passing them.  The law in the Wolverine State, like that in many others, said only that vehicles had to pass "at a safe distance."

In fairness, it should be pointed out that, as I have mentioned in earlier posts, studies have reached conflicting conclusions about the efficacy of such laws in preventing car-bike collisions. For one thing, on narrow roads, it is difficult, if not impossible, to give such a wide berth, especially if there is traffic coming from the opposite direction.  Also, such laws, like the ones against texting or using a cell phone while driving, are difficult to enforce.

Still, such a law is probably better than nothing for protecting cyclists. (Also, as some have pointed out, when it's enforced, it makes driving too close to cyclists a ticketable offense.)  I think that is what Michigan legislators were thinking when they passed a law, which takes effect today, requiring drivers to give cyclists a three-foot berth when passing.  

It's too late for Debbie Bradley, Melissa Fevig-Hughes, Tony Nelson, Larry Paulik and Suzanne Sippel.  But, one can hope that it will save other lives.

25 April 2018

Voices Of Crash Victims

He'd planned to go for a bike ride.  Twelve days later, he woke up.  "I didn't fully understand what was going on or why I was there," recalls Paul Gobble.  Still, he doesn't "recall feeling surprised" that he was in a hospital bed.




Paul Runnels was on the bike ride Gobble couldn't recall.  Like Gobble, he spent "nearly two weeks in the hospital" after that ride.  The last thing he remembered is pedaling to the right of the white line on the side of the road and hearing fellow riders shout "Car back!"





Jennifer Johnson's last memory of that day's ride, which she led, was seeing the sign for Markin Glen Park.  The next thing she remembers is waking up, seeing her right arm tangled in a fence and burrs in her clothing.  Scanning her body, "I struggled when I couldn't find my right leg," she recounted.  "I found it very acutely over my right shoulder."






Sheila Jeske met Johnson, Runnels and Gobble in a parking lot for the ride. Her next memory is from hours later, at 9:15 pm, in the hospital.  Doctors asked whether she knew what had happened.  "I said I knew I was on a bike ride and I asked where Deb and Suzanne were," she testified.




Debra Bradley
Suzanne Sippel

She was referring to Debbra Bradley and Suzanne Sippel.  They would not remember the ride:  They did not survive it.  Nor did "Larry" Paulik,"Tony" Nelson and Melissa Fevig-Hughes.  


"Larry" Paulik
"Tony" Nelson


Melissa Fevig-Hughes

Jeske, along with Runnels, Gobble and Johnson, described the ordeals they have lived through since the day Runnels heard "Car back!"  Although they are all riding again, they endure all sorts of pain and continue to undergo therapies and even surgeries.  Gobble, who suffered a brain injury, sometimes struggles with finding the right words.  Still, he and the others, were determined to testify, no doubt in memory of their cycling buddies who met them every week for over a decade.






Their testimony came this morning, on the second day of a murder trial for Charles Pickett Jr of Battle Creek, Michigan.  In addition to five counts of second-degree murder, he also faces five counts of driving under the influence:  The police allege that he had metamphetamine,  muscle relaxers and pain pills in his system at the time he plowed his blue Chevy pickup truck into the group of cyclists who called themselves "The Chain Gang."


Now Jeske, Runnels, Gobble and Johnson are linked in two other ways:  They survived a horrific crash, and they are giving voice to their friends who died that awful day.

03 February 2018

New Trial For Driver Who Mowed Down Five Cyclists

A year and a half ago, I reported one of the most horrific auto-on-bike crashes I've ever heard about.   Melissa Fevig-Hughes, Tony Nelson, Debbie Bradley, Larry Paulik and Suzanne Sippel, all experienced cyclists who'd ridden together for more than a decade, were run down by a blue Chevrolet pickup truck.  They died almost immediately; the crash seriously injured four fellow club members who were riding with them.



In the minutes before that tragedy, police were looking for that truck after three different callers said it was being driven erratically.  When he was apprehended, he was intoxicated and therefore charged with DUI.

Charles Pickett Jr would be charged with five counts of second-degree murder.  He appealed his conviction all the way to the Michigan Supreme Court, which last week said it wouldn't hear his argument that he shouldn't be tried for murder in the case.  



Now he is set to stand trial again in the Kalamazoo County Circuit Court.  A settlement conference is set for Friday, 13 April (!) and jury selection for the trial is to start on Monday the 23rd.

Nothing will bring those cyclists back.  But it's good to know that someone, at least, is taking the needless deaths of cyclists seriously.

    

05 January 2018

Is Five Feet Enough?

He survived a slaughter or a massacre, depending on how you view it.

Paul Gobble, a photographer and rider, was out for a weekly Tuesday-evening ride with fellow cyclists of "The Chain Gang."  


At that moment, police were searching for a blue Chevy pickup truck after, within minutes, three separate callers reported that it was being driven "erratically" along roads near Kalamazoo, Michigan.  


One of those roads was the one on which Gobble and his friends had been riding.  But the police couldn't get to that truck before it plowed into "The Chain Gang."


Gobble is still recovering from the brain injury and broken bones he suffered that day, in June of 2016.  But Melissa Fevig-Hughes, Suzanne Sippel, Debbie Bradley, Tony Nelson and Larry Paulik have no such opportunity:  They were killed almost instantly as that truck plowed into them.


Like many of us who haven't (yet) been as unfortunate as he was on that day, he says there is "a great deal of ignorance" about cyclists' right to use the road.  Moreover, he says too many drivers are "just angry that we're out there." So, "they yell at us" and "drive aggressively toward us," he points out.


The implication of his remarks, and those of other Michigan cyclists, is that the Wolverine State has been slow to protect cyclists.  Perhaps that is not surprising in a state that is home to Motor City, a.k.a. Detroit, where many workers' jobs have been lost or threatened in recent years.  Since I am not an economist, I will not get into all of the reasons for the decline of the auto industry in Michigan and other parts of the United States.  But I think it's fair to say that some whose livelihoods have been sustained by the internal combustion engine might see--inaccurately--cyclists as "The Enemy", or at least a manifestation of all of the changes that, in their minds, endanger their way of life.


Of course, such thoughts may not have been in the mind of Charles E. Pickett, the driver of that truck.  His vision may well have been impaired by substances rather than a faulty socio-economic analysis that day.  No matter:  He drove into a group of cyclists, killing five and injuring four others, including Gobble.


Other than stopping someone like Pickett from driving in the first place, what can prevent motorists from running down cyclists--particularly those like Gobble and The Chain Gang, who had more than a century of cycling experience between them?


Most planning and lawmaking related to this question seems to be predicated on the notion that bikes and cars must be separated as much as possible.  That, I believe, is the thinking behind most bike lane construction.  It also seems to be the philosophy behind laws like the one that has been proposed in Michigan.  It would require motorists to give cyclists a five-foot berth when passing them.  Current Michigan law stipulates only that vehicles pass at "a safe distance."  Furthermore, that regulation has been interpreted to apply only to motor vehicles, not bicycles.




Eight other states have laws with language much like that of Michigan's.  Thirty other states, and the District of Columbia, mandate a three-foot berth.  One of those states, South Dakota, requires 6 feet when the motor vehicle is traveling at 35 or more MPH.  North Carolina specifies a two-foot berth, except in no-passing zones, where four feet are required.  Pennsylvania stipulates a four-foot buffer zone in all situations.


While some laud members of the Michigan Legislature for giving long-overdue attention to the safety of cyclists--whose numbers are growing--others wonder just how effective such laws actually are.  Studies have reached conflicting conclusions about whether three-foot laws, as they're often called, actually keep cyclists from being struck by motorists.  For one thing, such laws--like the ones prohibiting cell phone use while driving--are difficult to enforce.  For another, it may be close to impossible for a driver to give such a berth on narrow roads, especially if there is oncoming traffic.  


Most important, though, I think that such laws are most useful after the fact because they provide "something you can ticket," in the words of Becky Callender, whose son was riding in a single file of cyclists on a rural road near Lansing  when he was struck by an SUV.  They are not a substitute for driver awareness of, and courtesy toward, cyclists.  But, I suppose, having such laws is better than not having them--or a poorly-designed bike lane.


14 April 2017

What Does It Take?

Not so long ago, I was actively writing another blog, Transwoman Times.  I have not given up on it, but I probably never will be as active on it as I once was--or as I am now on this blog.  

TT started off as a journal of the year leading up to my gender-reassignment surgery.  Then I wrote about, among other things, my life post-surgery.  But, as I had less and less to say about that, I found myself writing about any and all things related to gender identity and expression as well as sexual orientation.

That, I now realize, is one of the reasons I have not been writing on TT lately:  Too often, I found myself writing about people who were killed or suffered other forms of violence, not to mention discrimination and other kinds of bigotry, because of their actual or perceived gender identity or expression.  And, too often, I found myself recounting the indifference of law enforcement and other officials in the face of hate crimes--and of perpetrators who got off scot-free or slap-on-the-wrist punishments.

The latter is essentially what happened in the case of Alan Snel, the writer and cycling advocate who writes the Bicycle Stories blog.  The man who drove straight into his back didn't get so much as a ticket.  

Journalist
Alan Snel in better times.


I guess the St. Lucie County authorities thought that because he was lying in a hospital bed, rather than six feet under, nothing serious had happened.  Now I'm starting to wonder whether the authorities in some places think that even turning cyclists into worm food isn't reason enough to bring charges against a motorist.

Back in June, I wrote about one of the more horrific instances of a motorist mowing down cyclists I've ever heard about.  Charles Pickett Jr. of Battle Creek, Michigan has been accused of plowing into a group of nine cyclists near Kalamazoo while intoxicated.  Of that group--who called themselves "The Chain Gang" and met for weekly rides--Debra Ann Bradley, Melissa Fevig-Hughes, Fred Anton ("Tony") Nelson, Lorenz John ("Larry:) Paulik and Suzanne Joan Sippel died.  

l to r:  Melissa Fevig-Hughes, Suzanne Sippel, Debra Bradley, "Tony" Nelson and "Larry " Paulik

Pickett was scheduled to go on trial later this month, with jury selection planned for the 24th and opening statements the following day.  Last month, however, his lawyer filed a notice to use the insanity defense.  That means Pickett has to undergo psychiatric evaluation for criminal responsibility, which means the trial had to be rescheduled.  Now jury selection is scheduled for the 18th of September and opening statements for the next day.  

That, after Pickett had been found competent to stand trial last August and ordered to stand trial in November.  Oh, and he has a previous DUI arrest--in 2011 in Tennessee--but the charges were dropped.

While I am all for due process, I still have to wonder what it takes for motorists who--whether through intoxication, carelessness or "road rage"--kill cyclists to be held accountable.




31 December 2016

2016: It Never Ends

Now it is time to say "goodbye" to 2016.




A lot of people I know are glad to see this year end.  One reason is, of course, the Presidential election here in the US.   The day after the election, at the college in which I teach, a mournful, even funereal haze seemed to envelop the hallways and the surrounding neighborhood--which happens to be part of the poorest (of 435) Congressional District in the United States.  The atmosphere brought to mind the accounts I've read of the 1952 "Killer Fog" in London:  Students and faculty members, as well as people I saw shuffling along the Grand Concourse and 149th Street, seemed to have had the energy even to gasp for air sucked out of them.


But even Trump supporters (yes, I know a few of those!) seem happy to see this year end.  For one thing there were the deaths of great and merely famous people.  I haven't made a count, it does seem that more have left us during the past twelve months than in other years I can recall. Some, as sad as they were, weren't so surprising:  I'm thinking, for example of Elie Wiesel, who was an old (if still vibrant) man and Muhammad Ali, who had been deteriorating for decades.  But others, like Prince, George Michael and Carrie Fisher, took most of us by surprise.  Then there were the no-less-tragic deaths of people of whom we never would have heard save for the ways they died.  I am thinking, in particular, of Melissa Ann Fevig-Hughes, Suzanne Joan Sippel, Debra Bradley, Tony Nelson and Larry Paulik, all out for a late-day ride in Michigan when they were mowed down by an SUV driver who was charged with murder.





Also, even though many voted for Trump based on empty slogans and other rhetoric, misperceptions about what (if anything!) he actually represents or simply plain, flat-out lies they believed, they (at least the ones I know) are no less angry or disillusioned than they were before the election.  What I find interesting, and almost amusing, is that they sometimes talk about the "liberal" media lying to them about crime, immigration and other issues--and tell me (and probably others) that the "liberal" media disseminated lies and misinformation that, in fact, came from the lips of Trump or his troupe during the campaign.


Anyway, the election has come and gone.  So have some celebrated people.  But there was still much for which I am grateful and happy.  My work life has gone well.  I have been writing (apart from this blog!) and my students and I are moving forward (I believe) in my "day job".  As for my love life...Well, let's say I've had a semblance of it, without really trying.  I don't think I've met (or will meet) someone with whom I will spend the rest of my life.  But then again, I haven't been looking for anyone like that.


This year, though, has brought me reunions with a couple of old friends and the beginning of a reconciliation with an estranged relative.  And it--like the past couple of years--has brought me into contact with people, mainly through this blog, in other parts of the world.  Perhaps we will meet some day.





If we do, it might be on a bike ride.  Cycling, of course, has been one of the constants in my life for decades.  This year was no exception.  I did some rides I've done dozens, or even hundreds, of times before, and saw, heard, felt and thought what I couldn't have--or couldn't have even conceived--when I first started riding. I also did a couple of new rides I hope to do again and, of course, took a trip to Paris, where I spent many happy hours pedaling through valleys flanged by gray and beige stone building facades, and along pathways that cut through parks and line the canals.


Riding has been, this year and in others, not merely a means of escape or even transportation, although it has served those purposes.  It has, I now realize, taken on another interesting role in my life.  When I first became a dedicated cyclist, as a teenager in the 1970s, it was a kind of rebellion:  Other kids abandoned their Schwinn Varsities and Continentals, Raleigh Records and Grind Prixes and Peugeot U08s the moment they got their drivers' licences.  I continued to ride.  Then, in college, a lot of my fellow students rode their bikes to class or for errands, but not for any other purpose.  So, even though I wasn't consciously rebelling, I was seen as if I were--or, at least, as some sort of misfit (which I was, though in other ways).  


After college came a series of jobs and moves (including one to Paris).  I continued to ride, and the wind and vistas--whether of wide boulevards or narrow alleys, or of industrial soot turning to suburban sprawl and, finally, to orchards and fields of horses--or of seeing the ocean spreading itself before me after a couple of hours of pedaling--have all imprinted themselves on my consciousness.  In fact, I feel as if they are part of my body, intermingled with every ion and neuron in me.





In brief, my cycling started off as a kind of rebellion--conscious or not--but has become the very thing that has kept me from feeling alienated from the world around me and, most important, myself.  If I've learned nothing else this year, I feel that lesson--along with my riding, blogging, writing and experiences with people--have made this year worthwhile, even rewarding, amidst all of the pain and confusion in the world around me.

19 June 2016

A Father's Day Post For Tony Nelson and Larry Paulik

Here in the US, today is Father's Day.

I could have written this post about ties with bike motifs, or cufflinks and bracelets made from bike parts, that you could give to your father (or any man in your life) if he were a cyclist.  But you probably know about those things already.  Perhaps you received such a gift yourself.

Instead, I am going to dedicate this post to two particular fathers--and grandfathers:  Tony Nelson and Larry Paulik.

Tony Nelson


They are two of the five cyclists who were mowed down by a pickup truck driver near Kalamazoo, Michigan.  Three other cyclists, who were mothers (and, in one case, a grandmother) died with them. 

Larry Paulik


I implore every driver who encounters a cyclist on the road to remember that many are fathers and mothers, and all of us have parents.  In that sense, we are no different from you.  Thus, being mindful of us--as we are of you--is a family issue!