Where The Ghosts Come From

 So where do “ghost bikes” come from?

An article in today’s New York Times answered that question:  The bikes are donated by shops, friends or located via word of mouth. Volunteer strip away parts line pedals to make the bikes unrideable, then give them that familiar coat of white paint.  The volunteers also make the signs that read “Cyclist killed here. Rest in peace,” that are usually attached to, or by, the bike.

In addition to describing how volunteers create “ghost bikes,” the article raises some important questions—and disseminates, if unwittingly, some misconceptions about why we’re seeing more “ghosts.” 

As the article points out—Vision Zero notwithstanding—2023 was the deadliest year for New York City cyclists since 1999. The vast majority of casualties were on eBikes.  But the article goes on to quote advocates and planners who say the network of bike lanes and other infrastructure is “disconnected.” 

Photo from the New York Times.

True enough, as I know all too well. But I don’t know how fixing that problem will make cycling safer for people like me, on traditional bikes, when much of this city’s laneage is dominated by eBikes and motorized bikes on which the motor is the sole means of propulsion rather than a means to assist pedaling. Too often, those bikes are ridden by “cowboy” delivery workers whose employers incentivize or pressure them to make as many deliveries as possible, as quickly as possible, safely be damned—or by young joyriders equally disdainful of the rules of the road.  Oh, and don’t get me started on how often drivers (including cops) park in those lanes or pull over to have their coffee and donuts. 

Also, as I’ve mentioned in other posts, the police—and very often, the public— blame cyclists who, if they don’t survive a crash, can’t defend themselves. (I have said that running down a cyclist is the easiest way to get away with murder in the US.) Never mind that the driver was speeding or ran a red light:  There’s an attitude that cyclists “have it coming to them” when they’re injured or killed.

As long as misconceptions and misguided policies shape efforts to make cycling “safer,” those volunteers who make “ghost” bikes won’t lack for work—though they probably would love to do other things, just as Robert Capa hoped to “stay unemployed as a war photographer “ for “the rest of my life.”

Why Are More Cyclists Dying On NYC Streets?

The New York City Department of Transportation has reported that 2023 was the deadliest year for cyclists since 1999.  A total of 30 people lost their lives on two wheels. That represents a more than 50 percent increase from the fatality rate of the previous year, or the year before it.

Cyclist deaths in New York City

(Purple bar-traaditional bicycles.  Pink bar--eBikes)

E-bikes

Traditional bicycles

30 deaths

23

25

20

15

10

7

5

2009

2011

2013

2023

2015

2017

2019

2021

(Source:  New York City Department of Transportaion)

The number of cyclists who were killed while riding traditional non-motorized bikes (7) actually declined from any of the previous 15 years. So, the vast majority of the city's cycling fatalities were on eBikes.  Moreover, those 23 deaths in eBike crashes is more than double the number of any other year for which records have been kept.

That number is, in part, a reflection of the degree to which eBikes have, as some cyclists and pedestrians say, "taken over."  Indeed, no eBike casualties are recorded before 2014 because, before that time, there weren't significant numbers of motorized bikes on this city's streets. 

(That era--the early to mid 2010's--was also, interestingly, when the popularity of motorcycles was at its lowest ebb in at least half a century.)  

But one theme has remained constant in the past quarter-century.  About half of all bicycle and eBike deaths are a result of crashes with trucks.  A major reason for that, I believe, is that truck drivers simply don't see cyclists.  Also, delivery trucks often pull into bike lanes or the rightmost traffic lane, which is used by cyclists when a separate bike lane isn't present. Some drivers, I imagine, don't know how else to make deliveries.  Plus, there is simply more traffic of all kinds on this city's streets, in part because of ride-share services that began to proliferate at around the same time as eBikes.

Intoxicated Driver Kills Two Cyclists On Charity Ride

Six years after one of the most horrific incidents of a motorist mowing down cyclists I've ever heard of, another such incident--if on a smaller scale--has taken place in Michigan.  Aside from taking place in the Wolverine State, the two tragedies have this in common:  an intoxicated driver. 

On Saturday morning, cyclists were in the middle of a Make-A-Wish charity ride that spanned the weekend and state.  Around 11:15 am, the driver of an SUV crossed the highway center line to pass another vehicle. The driver, whose name has not been released, struck five cyclists.  One was pronounced dead at the scene; another was airlifted to Grand Rapids hospital, where he died.  The other three cyclists suffered critical injuries.

The driver was arrested. Authorities are seeking two felony counts of operating while intoxicated, causing death.

Saturday's crash recalls, sadly, the one that killed Debra Ann Bradley, Melissa Ann Fevig-Hughes, Tony Nelson, Larry Paulik and Suzanne Sippel when they were out for a late-day summer ride six years ago.  The driver plowed into them, and other riders (some of whom were injured) while under the influence.  Four years ago, the driver--Charles Pickett, then 52 years old, was sentenced to 40 to 75 years in prison.

Mayor Wants To Hold Motorist Accountable In Latest Cyclist Death

Too often, a motorist kills or maims a cyclist and gets not much more than a traffic summons--or a sympathetic pat on the back from a police officer. 

The cynic in me, and other cyclists, believed that Umar Baig would be the latest such driver.  Last Sunday, in Brooklyn, he sped through a red light on Coney Island Avenue. Another driver, traveling on Avenue L, T-boned his car.  Both vehicles spun out of control. One of them struck 52-year-old Jose Alzorriz of Park Slope, who became the 19th cyclist killed on New York City streets in 2019.  

Baig was briefly held and released.  The NYPD says it will charge him, but they did not say with what. Presumably, they will come to a determination after working with the Brooklyn District Attorney.

If Mayor Bill de Blasio has his way, Baig will not be the next driver to get tea and sympathy, and maybe a ticket.  "If you kill someone through your negligence, maybe that's not murder one, I'm not a lawyer, but I'd say it should be a serious, serious charge, with many years in prison" he declared. "It's not that that something unavoidable happened," he explained. "He blew through a red light at high speed, and someone is gone now, a family is grieving."

Let's hope that the Brooklyn DA and the NYPD see the situation as the Mayor has seen it.   Already, nearly twice as many cyclists have been killed in 2019--with more than a third of the year to go--as in all of 2018.

Fifth Avenue: Downhill In The Slope

Alert:  The video includes footage of a truck striking a cyclist.

This one hits close to home--no pun intended!

When I lived in Park Slope, Brooklyn, I cycled along Fifth Avenue nearly every day.   Those weren't my "fun" rides--far more pleasant streets and Prospect Park were close by--but I did much of my shopping, as well as a number of errands on Fifth.  

Then--the '90's and early '00s--the Avenue was lined with small shops of all kinds.  Some had been in the same family for a couple of generations; others were owned by young people who sold the sorts of books, clothes and music you wouldn't find in "big box" stores.  As the avenue is narrow, traffic could be congested and chaotic, but there was at least some level of respect between drivers--many of whom were making deliveries--and cyclists and pedestrians.   So, even though there was no bike lane, I never worried while threading through traffic and parked vans.

Fifth Avenue still doesn't have a bike lane, protected or otherwise.  I still ride there occasionally, but my recent experiences confirm something I've heard from other cyclists--and read in a news report:  Drivers aren't good about sharing the road.

Those accounts also confirm something else I've experienced on Fifth Avenue and elsewhere:  Some of the most reckless riders are on Citibikes.  A police officer has said as much to me:  When he sees someone with earbuds blowing through a red light, or making a careless turn, there's a good chance he (Sorry guys, they're usually young men!) is on one of those blue share bikes.

Such was the case Tuesday morning, when a Citibiker cut across traffic in both directions--against a red signal--and was hit by a truck. 

 

While the cyclist in question--identified only as a 39-year-old man--is expected to survive, he was knocked unconscious and suffered serious injuries.   The crumpled Citibike was still on the side of the road during the evening rush hour.


Now, I might sound like one of those New Yorkers who blames tourists for everything she doesn't like, but I really believe that, to some degree, Citibike has made cycling--and, for that matter, walking--less safe than it was.  While some commuters ride Citibikes, more are used by people who are in town for a day or a few days and are not accustomed to riding here or are just more careless because they figure they won't be here long enough to have to face the consequences of their actions.  

To be fair, similar things could be said about many of the drivers found along Park Slope's Fifth Avenue today.  They come and go:  There's a good chance that the one you see today (or tonight), you'll never see again.   In contrast, I used to see the same delivery drivers, as well cyclists and pedestrians,  several times a week, if not every day.  In other words, those folks were, in essence if not in fact, friends and neighbors. That, I believe, is a reason why drivers, even if they didn't understand cyclists, didn't harbor or express the kind of hostility we often experience today.

Oh, and it's a lot easier to see cyclists as "them" when their bikes all look--or are--the same.  

That said, I hope the fellow who was struck on Fifth Avenue recovers--and that he and the drivers he encounters are more mindful of each other.

Where It's Really Hard To Get Out Of The Way

I've ridden the block dozens of times.  And walked it at least as often.

It's less than a kilometer from where I grew up.  Relatives, friends and classmates lived along the streets that crossed it.

Unfortunately, for a 16-year-old boy, it's where his life ended. 


Yisroel Schwartz was riding north on 17th Avenue, a narrow thoroughfare that runs through the heart of Borough Park, a neighborhood that is no as riding north on 17th Avenue, a narrow thoroughfare that runs through the heart of Borough Park, a neighborhood that is now home to one of the world's largest yet most cohesive Hasidic Jewish communities.

Although it's called an "avenue," it's narrower than most streets or roads in other American cities.  And because the Hasidim, who have large families, are among the most car-reliant people in New York City, the avenue is often crowded--even when drivers aren't pulled over to pick up or discharge family members, or simply double-parked. 

Those conditions, unfortunately, make getting "doored" a particular hazard.  That was the last lesson Yisroel Schwartz learned in his brief life.



He saw the door opening and swerved.  But he couldn't avoid it, striking the door and falling to the pavement.

But it gets worse:  While prone, he was struck by an Econoline E350 van that was heading in the same direction.  He suffered severe trauma to his head and body, and was pronounced dead soon after arriving at Maimonides Medical Center, about halfway between that block and my old house.

Both drivers--of he car whose door he struck and the van that struck him--remained at the scene of the accident.  The NYPD are investigating. Knowing that stretch of 17th Avenue--which I probably wouldn't ride if I weren't so familiar with it--I am actually inclined to give the van driver at least,  the benefit of the doubt.  No matter your cycling or driving skills, it's really hard to get out of the way on that stretch of the Avenue, between 53rd and 52nd Streets.

They Aren't Blamed. So Why Are We?

In each of the past five years, more Americans have died from opioid drug overdoses than from car crashes or gun violence.

One reason for this, of course, is improvements in automotive safety.  Another is the campaigns to reduce gun violence, which have succeeded in a number of cities.

But no one would suggest that we should celebrate those developments when people are dying because they were prescribed drugs that they, and possibly their doctors, didn't realize were so addictive.  If anything, people from medical experts to the loved ones of those who've died will say that everything from the pharmaceutical and insurance companies' roles in creating and fueling the epidemic of addiction, to the ways in which the drugs act in the body, needs to be investigated.

And one rarely, if ever, hears anyone blaming the overdose victims themselves for dying in greater numbers than people involved in car crashes or shootings.  Thankfully, most Americans now understand that addiction is a health problem, not a moral failing, and that addicts need help in overcoming the ways in which the drugs overtook their bodies and minds rather than condemnation for "letting themselves" become addicted.

Would that such understanding were extended to cyclists and pedestrians.

In 2017, 27 cyclists and pedestrians were killed in San Jose, California.  An equal number of people were homicide victims.  

As in other large urban areas, the homicide rate in the San Francisco Bay Area, which includes San Jose, has been falling for a number of years.  I don't think anyone is unhappy about that, and don't believe they should be.  It shouldn't, however, be used to trivialize the number of cyclists and pedestrians who are killed.  While not many people are doing that, they are engaging in a kind of victim-blaming they would never direct at someone who dies from an overdose.  Such people believe that cyclists and pedestrians are "over-entitled" for having the right of way, or for having lanes dedicated to them.  

I won't deny that there are careless pedestrians and cyclists.  I would submit, however, that there are far more motorists who are reading or sending text messages, talking on their cell phones, or doing any number of other things that distract them from their surroundings. But it's odd that they are seldom blamed when they crash into other vehicles, let alone pedestrians or cyclists.

So, yes, we should be happy that fewer people are being shot, stabbed or beaten to death.  But we mustn't lose sight of the fact that increasing numbers of people are meeting premature demises while walking or pedaling to school or work, or for exercise.  In other words, a cyclist or pedestrian who is run down by a motorist is as likely as not to be an experienced, responsible cyclist or pedestrian who follows the rules of the road and takes all of the necessary precautions.

Opioid addicts, homicide victims and other people who die from causes not of their making are not blamed for their own deaths.  Why should it be any different for cyclists and pedestrians?

He Didn't Want To Start His New Year That Way!

I guess I'm lucky:  I started my New Year with a 65 mile (105 kilometer) bike ride--and felt great afterward.  That, in Florida:  the state in which I had the greatest chance of getting killed while riding a bicycle.

Oh, and I got to eat my mother's cooking afterward.  Yes, it was a good start to the year.  

Sam Liccardo probably wishes he could say the same thing.  He also went for a bike ride on New Year's Day.  Unfortunately for him, he didn't feel invigorated at the end of it.  

He got clipped by an SUV making a right turn.  The driver was cited.  We can be grateful for that, but it won't heal the fractures of his vertebrae and sternum.  He is, however, expected to make a full recovery and be back at his workplace in a week.  In the meantime, he'll work from home.

Sam Liccardo in the hospital

His workplace?  City Hall, San Jose, California.  Yes, he is the mayor of that city.  While it may not be Portland or even Seattle or San Francisco, its citizens are probably more bicycle-conscious than those in most other parts of the US.

And, ironically, he has been leading a campaign to make the city's streets safer for cyclists and pedestrians.  He is an avid cyclist and is rightly concerned: In 2017, there were six fatal bicycle crashes in his city.  That represented 13 percent of all traffic crashes.

Even though he is expected to make a full recovery, I'm glad I didn't have to start my new year the way he started his.  For one thing, it left him in pain and he expects to be off his bike for a month or so.  Oh, and he had to eat hospital food.

Hot Spots In The Evergreen State

Recently, Bicycling! magazine published its "Best Bicycle City in America" poll.  This year, Seattle got the top honor.

But, as we all know, no matter how good a city is for cycling, crashes are always a possibility, just as they are for motorists.

With that in mind, a local law firm, Colburn Law, sifted through five years of crash data and determined 15 "hot spots" in Washington State.  Not surprisingly, the first seven, and the majority of those on the list, are in Seattle. 

One reason is that crashes occur most commonly at intersections and, of course, there are more of those in a city.  On the other hand, more fatalities occur on open roadways, possibly because motor vehicles go faster on them than on city streets.  

The hottest of the "hot spots":  4th Avenue and Pike Street, Seattle

The Colburn report does raise at least two pertinent questions, both of which relate to the changing cycling scene the Emerald City as well as the Evergreen State.

One is how effective dedicated bike lanes will be in reducing the number of crashes.  I have not been to Seattle but, from what I've heard and read, it lags behind other "bicycle friendly" municipalities in its construction of lanes and other infrastructure, though the pace has increased recently.  And, some of the new lanes are separated, at least by pylons and planters, from the traffic lane.

Another question is whether the city's new dockless bike share programs will increase the number of riders who go without helmets--which, planners expect, would increase the number of injuries and fatalities.  So far, there doesn't seem to be any evidence of such things, as police have actually issued fewer citations to cyclists who weren't wearing helmets (which are required by law) in 2017 than in 2016.

Whatever the answers may be, they probably will have no bearing on whether Seattle "repeats" as "champion" in next year's poll.

Carrying The Evidence Against Him

If you're going to commit a crime, you shouldn't leave evidence.  And you certainly had better not have the evidence on you when you get caught.

Josue Flores-Ochoa has just learned this lesson.  The 27-year-old from the Boston suburb of Everett had one too many and drove through nearby Revere in the wee hours of Sunday morning. At the same time, a 56-year-old man from Winthrop was riding his bike.

Unfortunately, you can guess what happened next:  Flores-Ochoa struck the man with his car. 

The man was taken to a nearby hospital where, fortunately, his wounds were not found to be life-threatening.

In another instance of good fortune, police found Flores-Ochoa a short time later.  Several people reported seeing the crash, which certainly helped. 

Don't carry the evidence with you!

But Flores-Ochoa actually did more than anyone else to help the police find him:  When he drove away after hitting the man, the bicycle was attached to the front of his car.  It was still there when the cops stopped him on Washington Avenue in Chelsea.

I wish his victim a speedy recovery.  Most of all, I want him to be well enough to get a chuckle out of Flores-Ochoa's ineptitude.

If Not Justice, Then Strength. Or So One Hopes.

They were not looking for vengeance.  Instead, they sought justice.  But is it possible when five lives are ended, horribly and pointlessly, and survivors may nurse wounds for the rest of their lives?

Paul J. Bridenstine probably did the best he could under the circumstances.  On Monday, he sentenced Charles Pickett Jr. to 40 to 75 years in prison.  Given that he has already served 734 days (just over two years) and that he is 52 years old, Pickett won't be eligible for parole until he is 90.

What caused Bridenstine to mete out such a sentence?  Two years ago last week, Pickett--who was driving 58 MPH in a 35 MPH zone while under the influence--plowed into a group of cyclists out for their weekly social ride.  He didn't hit his brakes until he hit the first cyclist.

Last month, he was found guilty of five counts of second-degree murder and five of driving under the influence when he cut short the lives of Debra Ann Bradley, Melissa Ann Fevig-Hughes, Fred Anton "Tony" Nelson, Lorenz John "Larry" Paulik and Suzanne Joan Sippel in Kalamazoo, Michigan. In addition, he was convicted of four counts of driving while intoxicated and causing serious injury to Paul Gobble, Jennifer Johnson, Sheila Jeske and Paul Runnels.

At the sentencing hearing, Johnson spoke of how she lost one of her best friends, Fevig-Hughes.  She rides "only in a group" now.  "I find myself holding my breath as people pass."  Still, despite intense pain, she continues on, inspired by the strength of her friend.

In that sense, she is someone else who gave a moving statement:  Madeline Bradley, the daughter of Debra Ann.  She attended Michigan State University for a semester after her mother's death, she said, but remained "broken".  At first, she thought, nothing remained of her mother until she discovered her strength.  "She continues to protect me with this strength, her strength," she declared.

At least she has that, whether or not there is justice.

A Memorial To The Kalamazoo Tragedy

Two years ago this week, Charles Pickett Jr. mowed down five cyclists and severely injured four others in one of the most horrific car-on-bike crashes I've heard of.

Yesterday, a monument those cyclists--part of "The Chain Gang", a group that met every week for a ride--was unveiled in Cooper Township's Markin Glen Park, near the site of the Kalamazoo (Michigan) tragedy.  The four survivors--Paul Gobble, Sheila Jeske, Jennifer Johnson and Paul Runnels--attended along with others.  The five front seats were left empty to honor Debra Ann ("Debbie") Bradley, Melissa Ann Fevig-Hughes, Fred Anton ("Tony") Nelson, Lorenz John ("Larry") Paulik and Suzanne Joan Sippel.  

Local artist Joshua Diedrich designed the monument. The sculpture's sloped curve shape represents the hill on North Westnedge Avenue, where the cyclists were riding at that fateful moment, he explained.  That curve consists of four panels, two telling the story of the crash and the other two listing the names of the killed and injured cyclists.  The monument is topped by five bicycles, one for each cyclist whose lives ended on that evening ride two years ago.  

Survivors (l to r) Sheila Jeske, Paul Runnels, Jennifer Johnson and Paul Gobble in front of the monument.

 After the ceremony, Chain Gang members and other cyclists rode 25 miles to raise funds for maintenance of the memorial and bicycle advocacy in Michigan. A reception followed the ride.

Last month, Pickett was convicted of five counts of murder, five counts of driving while intoxicated and four counts causing serious injury by driving while intoxicated.  Sentencing is scheduled for Monday the 11th.

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.

Bicycle Safety In The City: It's About Him

I have long said that much of the opposition to bicycle infrastructure--or simply encouraging people to get out of their cars and onto a saddle--is really class-based resentment.  In other words, people who are upset when they see bike share docks taking up "their" parking spaces or a bike lane that takes "their" traffic lane away believe that liberal elites are coddling privileged young people who are indulging in a faddish pastime and simply won't grow up.

What they fail to realize is that creating awareness and infrastructure doesn't just protect trust fund kids who ride their "fixies" to trendy cafes where they down $12 craft beers.  A goal of efforts to encourage cycling and make it safer is also to protect those who, by necessity, make their livings on their bicycles.  Edwin Vicente Ajacalon was one of them.

Like most of the folks who make food deliveries on their bicycles, Ajacalon was an immigrant--in his case, from Guatemala.  He arrived in this country--specifically, to Brooklyn--a year ago.

He did not, however, live in the Brooklyn of fixed gears and craft beers:  Though he was only about eight kilometers from Hipster Hook, he lived a world away, in a single room he shared with five other men who, like him, are immigrants who delivered food by bicycle.  And the area in which he usually worked, which realtors dubbed "Park Slope South" some years back, is really still the hardscrabble working-class immigrant community it was when my mother was growing up in it.  The only differences are, of course, that the immigrants come from different places and that the neighborhood--hard by the northwestern entrance of the Greenwood Cemetery--is dirtier and shabbier, and still hasn't entirely recovered from the ravages of the 1980s Crack Epidemic.

Only one block from that entrance to the necropolis, around 5:45 pm on Saturday, Edwin Vicente Ajacalon was pedaling through the intersection of Fifth Avenue and 23rd Street.  There, a BMW sedan smacked into him.



The driver, to his credit, remained at the scene (and has not been charged with any crime). Unfortunately, there probably was nothing he or anyone else could do for Edwin:  Minutes later, the police would find him lying down in a pool of blood, halfway across the block from where he was hit.  Someone checked  his vital signs and found none, which means that, although he was pronounced dead when he arrived at the hospital, he might've died as soon as the car struck him or when he struck the pavement.

All anyone could do after that was to pick up the pieces of his bicycle which, along with a sneaker and a hat, where strewn about the street.

When anyone dies so suddenly and tragically, we can lament the loved ones who will never see him again, and those whom he will never see--as well as the things he won't have the opportunity to do.  For poor Edwin, those things include celebrating his fifteenth birthday.

Yes, you read that right.  Edwin Vicente Ajacalon was 14 years old when he was struck and killed while making deliveries on his bicycle--one year after emigrating, alone, from Guatemala.  He has no family here in the US, save for an uncle with whom he briefly lived.  Like his roommates, Edwin was working other odd jobs in addition to delivering food on his bicycle--and, after paying rent, sending money to his parents in Guatemala.

So...Now we know that bicycle safety is not just a matter of protecting pampered post-pubescents.  In this case, it's about protecting the livelihood of a boy in his early teens and the parents he was trying to support.  And they can't even afford to come to the US to claim his body. 

What Kind Of Man Is He?

Most of us, at one point or another, have broken up with a boyfriend, girlfriend or spouse--or simply ended a friendship.

There are, as often as not, sadness and hurt feelings. Fortunately, in most breakups, both parties have at least some sense that the end of their relationship coming and they go their separate ways.

On the other hand, there are those splits that don't end so quietly, especially if one or both parties are particularly angry, resentful or vindictive.  I know:  I've been involved in a couple of them.  In some of the worst cases (including one of mine), the one who's at the receiving end of the breakup says or does something in an attempt to damage the person who broke up the relationship.  Facebook can be a particularly nasty but effective weapon to achieve that.

So, why am I writing about such things on a bike blog?  Well, in Boca Raton, Florida, 65-year-old George Morreale was riding his bicycle near Yamato Road and Interstate 95 in April 2014.  It would be his last bike ride:  A pickup truck struck him, fatally.

Paul Maida, a 33-year-old West Boca Raton resident, claimed that he was in the passenger's seat while his girlfriend, 27-year-old Bianca Fichtel, was at the wheel.

She was initially charged but turned over e-mails that pointed to Maida driving at the time of the crash.  Those e-mails, according to prosecutors, showed that he asked her to switch seats before they returned to the scene of the crash.

So now you know one of the crimes for which Maida was found guilty in July:  leaving the scene of a fatal crash.  He was also found guilty of driving with a suspended license and filing a false report to the police.  He was, however, acquitted of DUI manslaughter.

Yesterday he was sentenced:  12 years in prison.

I know I shouldn't make light of something like this, but this thought popped into my head:  If I were Ms. Fichtel, I wouldn't visit him.

Sad News About A Television Station Owner

He was cycling eastbound on Slaughter Beach Road in Milford, Delaware around 7:35 Thursday morning.

A Ford pickup truck was going the same way--and struck the cyclist.

The driver, Shawn E. Armstrong of nearby Lewes, stopped to help the cyclist.  But the cyclist, 76-year-old Thomas Draper of Milford, didn't survive the impact.  

He is well-known in his community--and throughout the Delmarva area--as the longtime owner of WBOC, one of the largest television stations in the area.  He also owned other television stations and media outlets in the area, as well as other parts of the United States.

Thomas Draper

At least Armstrong stopped when he realized he'd struck Draper.  That is, unfortunately, more than can be said for too many other drivers in similar situations.