Blamed At Any Speed

On every kind of thoroughfare from Interstate highways to dirt roads, drivers exceed the speed limit.  To be fair, it's easy to do on a deserted rural lane or when all of the drivers around you are over the limit.  I imagine that sometimes drivers think that 5 or 10 miles per hour over the speed limit isn't much, especially if that threshold is 40 MPH or greater.

What people often fail to realize, however, is how much more harm they can do by going "just over" the speed limit.  As an example, William Davies piloted his Ford Focus at 48 MPH on a road where the posted limit was 40 MPH.  Had he been a compliant driver, he would have been traveling three meters (about ten feet) slower per second when he approached an intersection in the Welsh town of Newport.

At an intersection, a few feet, let alone meters, can mean, literally, the difference between life and death--especially for someone crossing the juncture without the protection of 4000 pounds of metal. 

A report issued after the court's inquest said as much.  The excessive speed "more than minimally contributed" to Mr. Davies striking--and killing--16-year-old Joshua Fletcher.

Joshua Fletcher R.I.P.

The teenager, who was said to be a talented rugby player and was studying to be a mechanic, was riding his bike to school on 16 October 2020 when Mr. Davies struck him.  The impact fractured his skull and caused multiple brain injuries.  He was declared dead at the scene.

You may have noticed a key word in the paragraph before the previous one: "minimally."  I can't help but to think that the report's author was a lawyer or had one by his or her side:  It couldn't have been chosen more carefully or deliberately.  That word allowed them to say "but" without saying "but."

To wit:  According to that report, Fletcher crossed the intersection "carelessly" because he was distracted by the headphones he was wearing.  OK, that's fair enough:  I never have ridden with headphones.  Also, the report noted, he wasn't wearing a helmet. 

On the basis of those factors, the report, in essence, said that Joshua Fletcher--who rode his bike to school because he was late whenever he took the bus--was responsible for his own death.

Now, I am not a coroner or forensic scientist, and I have never had children (though I've taught and worked with them in other ways), so take what I am about to say for what it's worth:  Rare is the circumstance when a child, or even a teenager, should be blamed for his or her own death.  Even if we can agree that Fletcher "should have" worn a helmet and "shouldn't have" worn headphones while riding, he didn't deserve to die for making choices teenagers, left to their own devices, would make.

(I rode without a helmet as a teenager because the only ones available were the "leather hairnets"--like the old football helmets--or lids from other sports like hockey.  And I rode without headphones because, well, we didn't have them in those days.  But would I have gone bareheaded and with my ears plugged if helmets and phones were available?)

I am not saying that William Davies was some sort of homicidal maniac.  He, too, made a careless choice--arguably more careless, since he had those 4000 pounds of metal and, one assumes, more wisdom than a sixteen-year-old would have.  

Perhaps the point is not to assign blame but, rather, to look at what leads people to such tragedies.  Of course cyclists should be encouraged to wear helmets and not to wear headphones.  But drivers also need to be aware that they are, in essence, guiding a lethal weapon whose destructive force increases exponentially with incremental increases in speed.

Danger In My Backyard

As I've mentioned in other posts, for several years running, Florida is the US state where a cyclist is in the most danger of being killed by a motorist.  No other state comes close in that category.

Of course, that doesn't mean the Sunshine State has a monopoly on intoxicated or distracted drivers, supersized diesel-powered pickup trucks with bodies customized to take up an entire roadway, drag racers (though the state is home to Daytona) or inherently dangerous roads.

As for the last item on that list:  The single most dangerous road (excluding Interstates and other highways where bicycles are prohibited) for cyclists in the United States is in my home state of New York.  In fact, it's in my backyard.

All right, since I'm an apartment dweller, I don't have a backyard.  What I mean is that said thoroughfare is near me.  In fact, I've crossed, though not ridden, on it a number of times.

According to the Nassau County and Hempstead Police Departments, drivers struck 320 cyclists and pedestrians on the 16 mile-long Hempstead Turnpike (a.k.a. New York State Route 24) between 2011 and 2021. Mind you, that is only the number of such incidents the constables know about through 911 calls.  Of said victims, 13 died.  Another six were killed just during the past year.  The road is so dangerous for cyclists and pedestrians, in fact, that most of the fatalities were cyclists or pedestrians trying to cross the road so they could continue along one of the many streets that intersect with it.  

The most impatient and hot-tempered drivers I've ever encountered, anywhere were along that road.  When the light turns green, it's like a dam opening: a torrent of vehicles rushes through.  Woe be to a cyclist or pedestrian, even one in a wheelchair, who happens to be in the path of that storm surge.

OK, so I mixed my metaphors a bit. But I think you have at least a partial picture of what I'm talking about.  The drivers are indeed in a hurry to get to the store or through the next red light, but if someone wanted to design a traffic conduit that would bring out the worst in such drivers, he or she could hardly come up something that better fits the purpose than the Hempstead Turnpike.

Photo by Levi Mandel

One problem is that, in some stretches, it's even wider than an Interstate (like an Autobahn or Autoroute).  Through most of its length, it has eight lanes of traffic, with dividers that are low to the ground or nothing more than lines painted on the asphalt.  Also in keeping with the worst in highway design, it has no bike or pedestrian lane or, for most of its length, sidewalks.  

But unlike superhighways, it's not elevated or in a trench:  It's at the same level as other streets.  And, as it passes through residential and suburban residential neighborhoods, many two-lane and one-way streets cross it.  That means many people must cross in order to get to work or school or go home.

What exacerbates all of these deficiencies is that the Hempstead Turnpike begins in an area of southeastern Queens that has one of the highest population densities in the United States but almost no mass transportation.  That means people are car-dependent.  That part of Queens is also relatively low-income and has few stores besides bodegas and small grocery stores.  Thus, residents of that area frequently drive to the Nassau section of the highway, with its abundant stores (including supermarkets and chain stores), which offer more variety and lower prices.  

Also, many residents work in those stores and in other area businesses.  Meanwhile, the fact that on its Queens end, the highway connects with the Grand Central Parkway--a major artery to western Queens and Manhattan--also guarantees that many Nassau County residents drive their daily commutes on it.

When the Hempstead Turnpike isn't clogged with traffic--on most days, only from about 2 to 4 in the morning--it becomes our local version of Daytona.  Sometimes the wannabe racers even test the limits of their machines, in speed and maneuverability, when there's traffic.  The worst part is that they're not the only ones exceeding the 30- to- 40 mph speed limit.  In fact, according to a grim joke or local folk wisdom (depending on whom you believe), police officers give tickets to drivers who don't speed because they're the ones the cops can catch .

Having crossed the Hempstead Turnpike many times, I'm not surprised to learn that it's officially the most dangerous road in this region, and probably the nation.  Ironically, when I was "doored" nearly two years ago, I had just crossed the Hempstead Turnpike.  It wouldn't surprise me if the driver who opened her door into my path--or the drivers who honked their horns out of frustration over having to stop for a cyclist lying in their path--had just turned off the Turnpike.

Where Are Cyclists Most In Danger? On Stroads.

When a plane crashes, the first thing investigators look for is "pilot error."

When a motor vehicle crashes, the authorities ask questions like, "Was the driver intoxicated?  Was he or she texting?"

When a pedestrian is struck, the focus turns to matters like what the pedestrian was wearing.  Could he or she not be seen in the dark?

And when I crashed, the first things the police wanted to know were:  Was I wearing a helmet?  Was I following all relevant traffic laws?  Was I intoxicated?  ("Yes" to the first two questions; "No" to the third.)

In other words, when what are commonly called "accidents" occur, the first inclination of investigators is to look for "human error."  While some mishaps are indeed a result of drinking, texting or other distractions, or of carelessness, as often as not, the blame lies elsewhere.

Jessie Singer, the author of There Are No Accidents, offers this explanation:  We focus on individual blame because it makes it easier to believe that it couldn't happen to us.  As an example, I grew up in a place and time in which women and girls were blamed for getting raped:  If she hadn't been wherever she was whenever she was, wearing whatever she was, it wouldn't have happened to her. Or so people believed. But, as we all know, there are all sorts of situation in which someone "did everything right" and still suffered an "accident" or is somehow victimized.  

The problem with the focus on individual behavior, according to Singer, is that it prevents the structural changes necessary to prevent recurrences of crashes or other mishaps.  

Charles Marohn would agree.  He is an engineer who used to work on road design.  The most dangerous roads for everyone--but especially cyclists, pedestrians and the disabled--are what he calls "stroads":  thoroughfares that combine the worst traits of roads and streets.  Roads, he said, are designed to move people and vehicles from one place to another.  Well-designed roads, he explains, are usually wide, with lots of lanes and clear zones on either side to make driver errors less deadly. Streets, on the other hand, are places where people live, shop, eat and play.  The deadliest roads in America, like a stretch of US-19 on Florida's Gulf Coast, are what he would call "stroads": several lanes of high-speed traffic lined with big-box stores and other businesses that provide a steady stream of cars and trucks pulling in and out of those lanes.  

Of course, the design of such roads isn't the only reason why pedestrian and cyclist injuries and fatalities have increased:  Vehicles have grown bigger and, thus, deadlier.  But Singer and Marohn agree that re-designing roadways will do far more to improve safety for cyclists, pedestrians, people in wheelchairs--and drivers--than focusing solely on the behavior of people who use, or simply try to co-exist, with the road.  As evidence, they point out that the "hot spots" for cyclist and pedestrian fatalities and deaths are found in places as diverse as Port Ritchey, Florida (one of the communities through which US-19 passes), Langley Park, Maryland; Albuquerque, New Mexico; Los Angeles and Manhattan.  But nearly all of them have the kinds of "roads" or "stroads" Marohn warns against.

He Could Not Escape Injustice

In earlier posts, I've mentioned that Florida, in spite of its climate and many communities with bike lanes, is terrible for bicycling in at least one way.  The Sunshine State is beclouded with the distinction of being the deadliest state for cyclists.  For about as long as I've been writing this blog, Florida has had the highest death rate for riders, and it's not even close.

More than a few reasons have been posited.  One is the state's car-centric culture.  Another is that because it's America's leading state for retirees (a.k.a. God's Waiting Room), there are lots of old drivers, some of whom shouldn't be driving anymore.  I think that characterization is only somewhat fair:  While riding in Florida, I've encountered any number of hot-rodding, or simply careless, young drivers.  Again, to be fair, their state doesn't have very stringent requirements for a driver's license.

Whatever the causes, the dangers (and pleasures) encountered by cyclists do not discriminate:  Accidents injure the young and the old, the rich and the poor.

And the famous as well as the anonymous.

The latest cycling fatality in Florida was a familiar face for many people.   He covered a number of major events, including the September 11 terrorist attacks.  For his contributions to CNN's coverage of that event, he won an Emmy. Another highlight of his career, "Escape from Justice," was one of the first exposes of Nazi war criminals living in the USA.

In addition to CNN, he covered the Supreme Court and other legal issues for 22 years at ABC.  An attorney by training, he was able to lend depth, as well as explain proceedings,  in terms comprehensible to folks like me.

Upon his retirement, he moved to northeastern Florida, near Jacksonville.  Like many before him, he relished the chance to spend days following one of his passions:  cycling.

My guess is that Tim O'Brien was a careful cyclist and, for a 77-year-old, his reflexes were still good.  They weren't enough, however, to avoid the fate that befell him.

According to police, a pickup truck traveling northbound on Route A1A turned left to Mickler Road in Ponte Vedra Beach.  The truck collided with a car traveling southbound on A1A.  

The force of the crash sent the car ricocheting to the sidewalk--where O'Brien was pedaling.  

Both drivers remained at the scene.  Police have not said whether either would be charged.  

Whatever their fate, it won't change the fact that someone they might've watched on their television screens is the latest cyclist casualty in Florida.