A Motorist Strikes--And Shoots--A Cyclist In Florida

It's bad enough when any motorist's vehicle strikes any cyclist.  It's even worse, at least in some ways, when said motorist does so intentionally.

What can be worse than that? 

An account that came my way provided an answer.  On Saturday, in Florida (surprise, surprise), on the Gulf Coast specifically, two men were cycling when they heard a car behind them. Before they could react, a driver them and knocked them to the ground.

Tire marks where a motorist struck--and shot--a cyclist.  (From WINK news.)

What makes this incident especially galling is that, according to investigations, the driver deliberately left the road to hit them.  Both cyclists saw that driver pilot the SUV past them, in the opposite direction, before circling around to approach them from behind, at a high rate of speed.

Oh, but it gets even worse. After driver struck them, the cyclists leapt and tried to flee.  The driver then got out of the SUV and shot one of the cyclists before getting back in and driving off.

Luckily for the cyclist who was shot, his injuries are non-life threatening.  

The Collier County Sheriff's Office says it has a "person of interest" but did not mention any suspects or a description of the shooter.

Have You Experienced A Hate Crime On Your Bike?

What do lynching, gay-bashing, rape and child molestation have in common?

The perpetrators of these crimes see their victims as less human than themselves.  That is one reason why lynchings and attacks against LGBT people are classified as hate crimes:  Seeing someone as less human than one's self is, to my mind, a pretty good working definition of "hate".  For that reason, I would also classify rape,child molestation and domestic violence in the same way.

And acts of aggression by motor vehicles against cyclists.

Now, I have long felt this way.  But now a study from Australia could give lawmakers good reason to classify motorists who deliberately run cyclists off the road in the same category as those who harass or assault immigrants.




Researchers from Queensland University of Technology, Monash University and the University of Melbourne studied 442 people in Victoria, New South Wales and Queensland.  

The subjects were first asked whether or not they were cyclists.  Then they were shown one of two images:  one showing the evolution of ape to human, or another showing stages of evolution from a cockroach to human.  That second image was designed, according to Alexa Debosc (the study's lead author) because some cyclists reported slurs in which they were compared to mosquitoes, cockroaches or other insects.  The images were given to the subjects at random.



Perhaps not surprisingly, a far greater percentage of non-cyclists than cyclists rated cyclists as not fully human.  Moreover, non-cyclists were much more likely to put cyclists on the ape or insect (depending on which image they were shown) end of the "spectrum" rather than somewhere in the middle.  Whether the subjects were shown the ape-human or insect-human images, the percentages of subjects who saw cyclists as less than fully human was just about the same.

Perhaps even less surprisingly, non-cyclists were far more likely to engage in harassment of cyclists (e.g., shouting or making rude gestures at us) as well as acts of direct aggression such as throwing an object, driving too close or using a car to deliberately block or cut off a cyclist.

In their report, the researchers acknowledge some inherent biases, as young, high-income males were over-represented at least in comparison to their proportion in the overall Australian population.  It's a lot easier for those with wealth or other kinds of privilege to dehumanize those who lack them:  That is why, for example, members of racial minorities and immigrants are so stigmatized.  

That acknowledgment, however, allows the researchers to draw the parallel I've made between the dehumanization of cyclists by motorists and of minority groups, such as Mexicans and blacks in the US or Arabs and Aborigines in Australia.  That is a very important point because, as the researchers point out, it isn't enough simply to "encourage positive attitudes" in order to curb aggression. (Too many diversity programs, trainings and policies do just that or, worse, try to bully, coerce or intimidate people into such attitudes.)  A better course of action, the researchers say, is to put a human face on cyclists:  Just as prejudice against, say, Muslims or gays results from other people seeing them as monolithic, hostility against cyclists comes from motorists seeing us as lycra-clad law-flouting machines that whiz by them.  

And reducing prejudice, and the resulting aggression, against cyclists or other groups of people could also halt a self-fufilling prophecy.  People who are dehumanized and, as a result, experience prejudice and hostility too often feel resentment and even hate against those who dehumanize them. (I plead guilty to that!)  That, in turn, causes victims to act aggressively, sometimes in collective ways, which helps to reinforce the attitudes of their dehumanizers.  In brief, victims of hate crimes sometimes hate back.  

Of course, one of the reasons why the hated hate the haters is that the haters' crimes are too often punished lightly, if at all because they are not treated as hate crimes.  I can hardly think of a better example than the driver who injures or kills a cyclist by running him or her off the road and gets off scot-free.

I Could Have Been...

It could have been me.

I could not get that phrase out of my mind as I rode to work this morning.

It could have been me.

Today dawned bright and clear for me, as it did for them--yesterday.  A beautiful mid-autumn day, sunny, a little chilly but not unpleasantly so, with strong breezes shaking leaves turned red and yellow from their branches and rippling reflections of the sky, glass, steel and concrete at the mouth of the Hudson.  

In other words, the sort of day people picture in their fantasies about bike-riding in New York.

It could have been me.

And so they went for a ride, for fun.  I was riding, too, in an entirely different part of town, from my job back to my apartment.   Though they weren't going to work, many others who followed their path, on bike or on foot, no doubt were.  I myself have ridden along that path, to work and for the same pleasures they were enjoying.

I could have been one of them.

Five came from Argentina--old friends celebrating the 30th anniversary of their graduation from their high school.  Another came from Belgium, with her mother and sister.  They survived because they weren't with her.

I could have been her.

So could any of the kids who were leaving Stuyvesant High School at that very moment.  No doubt some of them sauntered along, or pushed or shoved each other (as high school kids are wont to do) into or along the path.  They would hang out with other kids.  Or they would go to practices in sports they play, languages they are learning, plays in which they are performing or skills for tests they will take and essays they will write in the hopes of getting into the colleges they or their parents choose.  One assumes that one day, at least some of them will be part of some 30th anniversary celebration, wherever in the world they may be.



They could have been among them.

Still others walked dogs, pushed strollers and held hands as they strolled along the nearby piers.  Or they sluiced through crowds on skates and skateboards.  They were all mere blocks away from the 9/11 Memorial and even closer to--though, as fate would have it, a world apart from--the Argentinian and Belgian tourists on bicycles.

I could have been with them.

For a time in my life, I was riding daily along the stretch of the Manhattan Greenway known officially as the Hudson River Greenway-- or more commonly as the West Side Highway Bike Path-- along the stretch that separates Greenwich Village, SoHo and Tribeca from the river.  At that time, it was part of my route to work.  Before and since then, I have ridden there for pleasure--sometimes as part of a city jaunt, as the tourists did yesterday; other times en route to a ferry or bridge that would take me to another part of my ride.  More often than not, I rode alone, but sometimes I'd accompany whomever I happened to meet--along the way to my job or wherever else I happened to go.

They could have been with me.

Every time I pedaled along that path, I was home within a few hours.  Today I will be home about 40 minutes after I leave work and get on my bike.  They, I am sure, thought they were going home, too--today, tomorrow, next week or the week after.  

I could have gone with them.

But they are not going home.  They probably never even imagined that they wouldn't:  They could not have foreseen the way their rides, their vacations, their journeys, would end.

It could have ended that way--for me, for anybody.

The Argentinians, the Belgian, never suspected that under a clear autumn sky in New York, death would descend upon them.  They certainly never expected it to come in the form of a van jumping the barrier that kept all of the other West Street traffic away from them, or for said van to be driven by someone who knew nothing about them except that they were riding bicycles peacefully.  On their bikes, they never expected to meet the fate of the folks sipping drinks at Le Carillon or listening to music at the Bataclan.  Or the ones enjoying a fireworks display on Bastille Day or shopping in a Christmas marketplace.  Or simply out on a summer day.

No one expects it to end that way.

Of those five Argentinians and the Belgian who went for a bike ride--and two others who went for a walk--on the West Side Bike Path, all that remain are mangled bicycles and shards of clothing and other personal items.  They went for a stroll, they went for a ride, and each of them is gone, gone, gone.

It could have been me.


I can only be grateful that it wasn't.  My thoughts are with the victims.

Another Kind Of Violence In Charlottesville

As if there hasn't been enough violence in Charlottesville (or the world) lately....

As if there hasn't been enough violence committed by motorists lately...

As if there hasn't been enough violence committed by motorists in Charlottesville lately, there's this:

Gail Esterman--my (or, if you like, Nick's) former neighbor in Park Slope, whom I re-encountered last year in Paris--responded to a Facebook post from her friend, Joy Pugh, about a cab driver who tried to assault a cyclist with his car, then with his fists.  Thankfully, he missed on both counts, but I'm sure the cyclist was shaken.  

Now, I've had a couple of similar incidents during my years of riding.  What makes Charlottesville cyclist's experience all the more galling, though, is that when Ms. Pugh called the taxi company--City Taxi--the number wasn't working and their website doesn't exist.  

Interestingly, according to Joy, there are negative online reviews regarding this cab service--about a driver (the same one?) and someone who answered the "company's" phone.

Does The Driver Hate Cops--Or Cyclists?

Someone wasn't feeling the love in the City of Brotherly Love.

Around 2:30 yesterday morning, three Philadelphia police officers on bicycle arrived at the intersection of I Street and Erie Avenue to help with the arrest of a carjacker.

Suddenly, a black sedan--possibly a Nissan Altima--with tinted windows bore down, at high speed, a group of Philadelphia police officers on bicycle patrol.

Fortunately for the men in blue, they hopped off their bikes before the sedan tangled them into a mess of twisted spokes and sped off.

According to a Philly.com report, "Police said the driver's actions appeared to have been deliberate."  No! Really?  What I'd like to know is whether the driver of the sedan knew the carjacker, or simply had a grudge against cops--or cyclists.