His Freedom For A Reflector

 If there is a warrant out for you, make sure your bicycle has an intact reflector if you ride in West Des Moines, Iowa.

Now, I realize that this lesson or moral or whatever you want to call it applies to a very small number of you, my dear readers. I suspect (oddly appropriate word choice, isn’t it?) that not many of you have cycled in West Des Moines, Iowa (I haven’t) and, probably, even fewer, if any, of you have warrants for your arrest (something I don’t recommend).

But I have chosen to relate this story for its “Beware!” and “You never know…” elements.

George Hartleroad (Sounds like the name of the street he was riding on, doesn’t it?) was pedaling along a road in the Midwestern community when he was stopped for something that, to my knowledge, has never resulted in a pull-over here in New York. I don’t think it’s even been the ostensible reason why any NYPD officer halted some young man who was Riding While Black.

What was Mr. Hartleroad’s infraction?  His bike lacked a reflector.

But whatever trouble he might’ve been in was nothing compared to what awaited him when he gave a false name and the officers couldn’t find it. Finally, he gave his name, which revealed that he failed to report to a halfway house In Wisconsin in 1995.

“You’ve been on the run for longer than two out of the three officers here on the street have been alive,” said one of the arresting officers.

Turns out, a dozen years earlier, Mr. Hartleroad violently attacked a Minnesota woman in Chippewa County, Wisconsin. He served prison time for that assault before he was released to the halfway house he left and to which he didn’t return.

What can I say?  First I’ll reiterate what I said earlier: Don’t do anything that could result in a warrant. Second: If you’re going to get arrested, make sure it’s for something worthwhile like protesting injustice. And finally:  If you’re in West Des Moines, Iowa, be sure your bike has a reflector.

They Are Supposed To Protect Us. Who Will Protect Us From Them?

They park their work--and personal--vehicles in bike lanes while munching on Big Macs.  They tail you at intersections, just as the light is changing, and force you to choose between going through the intersection or stopping and getting rammed from behind. Or they jump out from behind bushes in a park and make cyclists speed up--above the speed limit--to avoid them.

Oh, and sometimes they don't bother with those tactics and cut to the chase:  They assault, in some cases sexually, cyclists.

By now, you've probably guessed that I'm talking about police officers.  I have witnessed or experienced everything I've experienced from "men in blue" here in New York.  But, perhaps not surprisingly, none of those things are unique to my hometown.

According to Molly Hurford, Toronto police have turned that city's High Park into a "battleground" in which cyclists have been spuriously ticketed for "speeding" and "trespassing."  

 

Oh, but it gets worse.  Last Tuesday, an officer--one who has been ticketing cyclists, no less--drove his SUV into the park.  Just outside the park, a cyclist who was riding in the bike lane stopped at a four-way stop, with the officer to his left.  The officer turned his vehicle directly into him. The cyclist wasn't injured, but his bike sustained over $2000 in damage.  

The officer claimed that the sun was in his eyes.  Lawyer and cycling advocate David Shelnutt, who has taken up the cyclist's case pro bono, said, "In no other incident would 'the sun being in his eyes' be an acceptable excuse for any traffic violation."  At the very least, he says, that officer ran a red light; the sun shouldn't have made a cyclist invisible only four feet from the officer.  The city's Traffic Services says it's continuing its investigation.

The Roman poet Juvenal could have had the incident in mind when he wrote, "Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?"--Who will guard the guardians?  Who protect cyclists (or anyone else) from those who are supposed to protect them?

What's Worse: Paint Or Police Passing?

 If you've been reading this blog for a while, you know that I don't give a blanket endorsement to roadside bicycle lanes.  Too many, at least in the US, are poorly-conceived, constructed and maintained.  The worst sort of lanes are the ones that serve no pratical purpose-- the ones I call lanes from nowhere to nowhere--because they do nothing to encourage cycling as a practical alternative to driving for commuting, errands and other purpose-driven trips.  And the most dangerous ones are the ones that separate motor traffic from cyclists by nothing more than a line on the pavement.  As I've said on more than one occasion, "paint is not infrastructure."

Studies have shown that painted cycle lanes do nothing to reduce injuries and "advisory lanes"--one which motorists are allowed to enter--are worse than no lane at all:  they increase the odds of injury by 30 percent.

The only news, for me, in those studies is the number:  I know, from experience, that a painted is as much a margin of safety for cyclists as a swath of fishnet scotch-taped at the nose bridge offers against COVID-19 or any other contagious virus.  And too often, motorists use "advisory" and even painted "bike-only" lanes to pass or double-park; the latter is often done by drivers of delivery trucks. 

To be fair, drivers, until recently, have been inculcated with the notion that they are the "kings of the road":  that motor vehicles take priority over cyclists and pedestrians.  If they haven't cycled during their adult lives, it's hard for them to un-learn such an attitude.  Also, some lanes, especially the "advisory" ones, aren't marked in ways that motorists can easily see, especially if they are driving large vehicles.

But some of the worst offenders, in my experience, are police officers in their "cruisers."  I can't begin to tell you how many times I've seen them parked in the middle of lanes while munching on donuts and sipping coffee.  And I've had a couple of close encounters with constabulary cars that weren't responding to an emergency call.  At least, I don't think they were:  their lights weren't flashing and their sirens weren't blaring.

Some have debated whether what was captured in that image was indeed a "close call" with a police car. However, Andrew Frogley on the Road.cc blog, who didn't think it was such a "close call," nonetheless agreed that one blogger had a legitimate question:  "What's worse?  The painted cycle lane or the close pass?"

Geoff Hickman had, I believe, the best answer:  "One enables the other."

Policing Of Cyclists is A Social And Economic Justice Issue

For a very brief time in my youth, I worked in sales.  As with jobs of that kind, numbers were everything:  I, and other salespeople, were rated on the number of sales and the dollar value of them.

Knowing that, I, of course, went for the easiest "closes." (A "close" is a completed sale.)  After I drained the pool of easy marks, I realized that I hated sales and quit soon after.

There are other lines of work in which people are similarly evaluated.  Management calls those numbers "metrics" and use them, not only to decide on promotions, but also whether to continue someone's employment.  Such a situation, I discovered, also prevails in the academic world:  Decisions on tenure, promotions and continued employment are based on, among other things (like the ever-so-concrete category called "collegiality") the number of a faculty member's publications, and how much grant money he or she brings to the institution.

If anyone asks you what a professor and a police officer have in common, now you know.  In many departments--including the one in the "City of Angels"--police are judged by, among other things, the number of tickets they write and arrests they make.  Here I have no truck with conspiracy theories:  Constables themselves have said as much.  They also admit that they go after cyclists because we're the proverbial low-hanging fruit.  I am learning that I am not the only cyclist who's been stopped by cops--and ticketed--for something I didn't do.

One way you can tell a true salesperson, without knowing his or her numbers, is that such a person is a "schmoozer" (which I can be, when I feel like it) and gets a rush out of engaging, and closing the deal with, a customer.  It always seemed to me that to a true salesperson, the deal or the sale is, to them, as the painting or sculpture is to an artist.

Many police officers, I suspect, get a similar thrill out of a "collar."  "Everybody loves a good bust," said J.P. Harris, a retired Los Angeles County sheriff's lieutenant who now sits on the Sheriff's Civilian Oversight Board.  "The person who makes the right hooks, they are respected, they are admired."

A source for the Sheriff--who asked to remain anonymous because he's not authorized to speak in public--confirmed the suspicions I, and probably many of you have about why we're targeted:  "Like a lion looking for prey, what is she going to do?"  The source explained, "That's what cops do--they look for the easiest stop."

From the Good Word News

That also partially explains why non-white cyclists are disproportionately ticketed and arrested while riding their bicycles.  Another officer explained that when cyclists are stopped, it's not really about the missing reflector or bell, although that's might be the reason the officer gives when he or she approaches a cyclist.  Also, that officer explained, the goal isn't always to write a ticket, though that is often the result. 

Rather, stopping a cyclist--especially in a low-income neighborhood, and especially if the cyclist is not white--is really seen as a gateway to making an arrest for something more serious, like gun or drug possession.  Another officer explained that when was a new assistant in Compton, his training officer told him that in low-income areas like Compton, he should assume that any adult on a bicycle had most likely lost his (they're usually male) license because of some crime he'd committed.  

In other words, that law enforcement agent was trained to see any cyclist in a low-income neighborhood as a criminal. And he says he wasn't the only one inculcated with that notion.

That sort of training continued for years, even though it didn't produce the expected results.  According to a Los Angeles Times investigation, 44,000 cyclists were arrested in the county from 2017 until July of this year.  Of them, 85 percent were searched.  Only 8 percent of those searches revealed illegal items, and weapons were seized only 164 times, or in only 0.5  percent of all searches.

Perhaps the most galling aspect of those stops, arrests and seizures--and the training and mentality that produces them--is that they target the very cyclists who are least able to defend themselves against the charges.  It's hard not to think that makes poor black and brown cyclists such appealing targets for sheriff's assistants with itchy ticket-writing fingers:  Cops don't look good to their peers or superiors when their summonses are dismissed or charges dismissed. (That, by the way, is also the reason why the so-called War On Drugs so decimated black and brown communities:  Cops won't arrest a pot-smoking prep school kid whose parents can afford a good lawyer.)  In rare cases, large numbers of frivolous citations and arrests lead to disciplinary measures against and, even more uncommonly, dismissal of officers.

So, I don't think it's an exaggeration to say that the way cyclists are policed isn't just a first-world, white people's issue:  It's a matter of social and economic justice.

How I Could Have Become One Of The Remembered

Today is Transgender Day of Remembrance. All over the world, people will read the names of trans people who have been murdered during the previous year.  Such observances began on this date in 1999, one year after trans woman Rita Hester was found barely alive in her apartment.  She had been stabbed 20 times and died upon arrival at the hospital.

As brutal as her murder was,  it wasn't unusual for trans or non-binary people.  It seems that haters have a particular penchant for spewing their bile on those of us who don't, in one way or another, conform to the norms of whichever sex we were assigned at birth.  And living as the people we are seems to bring out the lawlessness of too many law enforcement officials.

I could have been one of their victims--and, possibly, one of the names read at the commemorations.  One hot day early in my gender-affirmation process, I was riding my Dahon Vitesse home work.  I didn't like the bike much but its flat-black finish garnered a lot of compliments.  One of them came through the window of a van whose rear windows were blacked out.  "Nice bike," the passenger commented.  I nodded in thanks.

The driver slowed that van down.  I rode past and thought nothing of it until it pulled up alongside me again and the same passenger yelled, "Nice legs, honey."  I was wearing a skirt that day and my legs are often complimented, or at least noticed.  So I thought nothing of it until the guy repeated himself, louder, "Nice legs!"  I paid no mind.  Then the guy bellowed, "Stop!"

Of course, I didn't.  But, as it turned out, it was a situation of "damned if I do, damned if I don't."  Again, the van slowed down, let me pull ahead, then caught up to me.  The passenger side flung open.  "When we say STOP, you STOP!"

"Why?"

"We're cops!"

"Show me your badges."

"Shut up!," the driver yelled.  "Shut up and do what we tell you!"

"But if you're a cop, you have to have reason to stop me."

"What were you doing in the projects?"

"First of all, I wasn't there.  I wasn't anywhere near there." That was true which, I think, pissed off those cops even more. "Just shut up and do what we tell you."

At that moment, I was picturing myself in the back of that van and ending up in the river that night.  So, when the passenger demanded to see my ID, I opened my bag. Fortunately for me, the ID I carried had an old address:  I had moved recently and was waiting for my updated state ID card.  

"Where are you going?"

"Home."

"Where's that?"

"The address on the card"--which was a few blocks away.

"OK," hissed the driver. "Just remember--when a cop tells you to do something, you do it," the passenger bellowed.

"You can go now," said the driver.

As it was early in my gender affirmation process, I couldn't help but to think those cops--if they were indeed cops--were "curious" about me.  Or perhaps they were looking for a victim "nobody will miss." 

That incident went down not long after I had gone through a process of wondering whether my cycling would survive my gender affirmation process.  I had made up my mind to continue riding, but I have to admit that I wondered about my decision.

Fortunately, there are more transgender or gender non-conforming cyclists than there were back then, in 2005.  Or, at least, more of us are "out."  I've met a few and have made contact with others, including Molly Cameron and the wonderful Coline in Scotland.  And, of course, there is another Scot:   the incomparable Philippa York, nee Robert Millar, the first anglophone rider to win the polka dot jersey (for the best climber) in the Tour de France.

While cycling has become more inclusive--when I first started became a dedicated rider, nearly half a century ago, almost everyone who rode more than a few kilometers was male--we still need to work toward greater inclusion and safety, of, for and in our own selves.  That is our real journey, however and wherever we ride.

Why George Floyd And Tulsa Matter For Cyclists

There's just something about this date, 25 May.

Around this time, I believe, Spring starts to tilt toward Summer, at least in the temperate parts of the Northern Hemisphere.  Every few years, Memorial Day falls on this date, as it did last year.  It's the birthday of Lucy, of the eponymous novel by Jamaica Kincaid.  In 1787, the US Constitutional Convention convened in Philadelphia; Argentina's revolt against Spanish rule began in 1810.  And, interestingly, on this date in 1961, President John F. Kennedy challenged his country to land a man on the  moon before the end of the decade; exactly 16 years later, one of the most popular movie franchises in history--Star Wars--premiered.

And, one year ago today, enough happened that, if Stephen Dedalus of The Portrait of An Artist As A Young Man had witnessed it, he'd have to repeat his assertion that history is a nightmare from which he was trying to awake.

Amy Cooper, a.k.a.  Central Park Karen, falsely accused a black man of threatening her and her dog.  Fortunately, the man--Christian Cooper, no relation--captured the event on his phone.  Still, in February, a judge dismissed the charges against her after she completed five therapy sessions "designed for introspection and progress," according to the Assistant District Attorney.

Not surprisingly, that incident was overshadowed by the murder of George Floyd.  That, at least, has brought issues of policing in "minority" communities (in which I include not only non-white people, but those of us who aren't cisgender or heterosexual, or don't otherwise fit into societal standards of gender and sexuality) to the forefront.  

Those incidents, I believe, are relevant to us as cyclists because in too many places, at least here in the US, incidents in which motorists run down cyclists aren't taken seriously. The driver, even if he or she is impaired, distracted or should not have been driving for some other reason, gets off with a "slap on the wrist" and the cyclist is blamed for his or her injury or death.

Oh, while I'm on the subject of relations between non-majority or non-mainstream communities and those who police or rule them, I want to call attention to another incident that occured on the traditional Memorial Day--31 May (next Monday).  Exactly a century ago, on that date, one of the worst incidents of racial violence and mass murder took place in Tulsa, Oklahoma.  A black shoeshine "boy" rode an elevator with a white woman.  I think you can guess what happened next:  the "black ram is tupping the white ewe" rumors began.  They led to confrontations in which  the city's police chief deputized white mobs and commandeering gun shops to arm them--and private planes to drop bombs on the Greenwood district, then known as "Black Wall Street."

Like most other people, I learned about the incident, in which the district was wiped off the face of the earth, by accident, when I was researching something else.  I was, to say, the least, astounded--but not surprised--that the Tulsa Massacre has been omitted from history books. (Victor Imperatus, anyone?)  My shock led me to write an article about it nearly five years ago.  

I mention that incident, and the George Floyd murder because, although one is being brought to light (because of its centenary) and the other resulted in the conviction of a police officer, we as cyclists still need to be wary of increasingly-militarized police forces who still, in too many cases, harass, ticket and even arrest cyclists on specious or simply phony charges  (as happened recently in Perth Amboy, New Jersey) -- and the power structures that give rogue officers more credibility than those they victimize.  

What (And Who) Is This Law For, Anyway?

We shouldn't make a law we're not willing to use guns to enforce.

So opined Adam Sullivan of The Gazette, a newspaper and online publication based in Cedar Rapids, Iowa.

He voiced this conclusion in a discussion of bicycle licensing laws.  Though he was dealing mainly with such regulations in Iowa, what brought him into the discussion was the viral video of Perth Amboy, New Jersey police officers stopping a group of kids who were popping wheelies while weaving in and out of traffic.  While one officer lectured the kids about bicycle safety, the cops used the boys' lack of bicycle licenses as a pretext for confiscating their bicycles and taking one boy--who is, ahem, African-American--into custody.

Sullivan called this--and what he deemed "outdated" bicycle licensing laws--government overreach, if not in so few words.  He makes the legitimate point that many Iowa cities once had mandatory bicycle licensing laws, and the system mainly served two purposes:  to give the police a chance to interact and "make nice" with kids and other community members when they registered their bikes, and to aid in the recovery and return of lost and stolen bicycles.

While those might be legitimate purposes, bicycle licensing, which is now mainly voluntary, no longer serves them.  Few, if any, stolen or lost bikes are returned to their original owners, in part because police departments, especially in larger cities and towns, don't place bike theft or loss high on their list of priorities.  Also, most bicycle licensing systems began during the 1950s and 1960s, when most Americans still thought, "bikes are for kids."  Today, many more bikes are ridden by--and the stolen from--adults.  So, there is less reason for cops to use bike-safety classes to build rapport with kids, or the larger community.

Also, people's attitudes toward cops, especially in cities, are very different, to say the least, from what they were a couple of generations ago.  So the bike-safety and community efforts would be seen as condescending by some and overreach, as Sullivan says, by others.

While Sullivan frames his argument against bike licensing laws--or any other regulations that can't be, or aren't being, enforced--in libertarian terms, I think his editorial also implies another question:  What, exactly is/are the purpose(s) of bicycle licensing regulations?  If almost no stolen or otherwise missing bikes, with or without tags, are returned to their owners, and meaningful efforts toward improving bicycling safety aren't made by police officers or others who understand cycling (or, better yet, are actually regular cyclists), what good is it to require tags?

Oh, and there is the issue of cost:  Perth Amboy bike licenses cost 50 cents. (How long ago was their law enacted?)  As Sullivan points out, most Iowa bike licenses cost around five dollars.  I have to wonder just how much money is actually collected, and how much it actually helps to make cycling safer.  While I think low-income people shouldn't have to pay for licenses, I also believe that those who can afford to pay more, should, if bicycle licensing programs are to serve any real purpose.

On the whole, I am in agreement with Sullivan on his main point:  Any law that isn't going to be enforced--or, worse, that will be enforced selectively, as it was in Perth Amboy-- shouldn't be on the books.  Ditto for any law that isn't used for the overall public good--or no longer has, or never had, a real purpose-- as is too often the case with laws related to bicycles and bicycling.

 

Cycling While Black, I Mean, Without A License

You've probably seen them:  groups of kids, almost always boys, weaving their bikes in and out of traffic lanes, veering across center lines and riding as close as they can to oncoming cars.  Sometimes, they're popping wheelies as they're zigging and zagging along the pavement.

When I see such groups, if I can catch the gaze of one of their members, I might yell, "Be careful, OK" or simply give them what I believe is a concerned but nonjudgmental look.  Kids need to be kids and, truth be told, I did more than a few stupid and dangerous things.  But I want them to be able to look back and reflect on, well, the stupid and dangerous things they got away with doing.

If cops are going to deal with them, they should stop to the kids and talk to them.  They might continue what they were doing as soon as the cops are out of sight, but I think the cops should at least make them think.  Ticketing--or, worse, arresting--them on bogus charges probably will accomplish nothing more than to make them more distrustful of authority, and defiant, than they already are.

Especially if the charge is one that has never been levied in the history of the kids' community.  

That is what happened last week in Perth Amboy, New Jersey--a city connected to Staten Island, New York by the Outerbridge Crossing.  I occasionally ride through it as I'm pedaling to other parts of New Jersey and I rode in and through it fairly often when I was a student at Rutgers.

Then, the majority of Perth Amboy residents were poor or working-class Hispanics, and there was a sizable Black community.  In that sense, it hasn't changed, save for which Hispanic and Black people live there.  Also not changed is the relationship between the people and the ones who police them.

An already high tension level has ratcheted up during the past year, in the wake of George Floyd's murder and other crimes and misdeeds by police officers against non-white people.  Things could have reached a breaking point--and might, still--after videos surfaced of the police confiscating the bikes and handcuffing one of the boys--who happens to be African American.

The charge--riding while black, I mean, without a bicycle license. I'd love to know when was the last time, before last week, that law was enforced.

 

Enforcement, For A Day

Nevada law stipulates that motorists must give cyclists a berth of three feet (a bit less than a meter) when passing.  Other states have similar laws but they are seldom enforced.  One reason is that police officers can't be, and surveillance cameras aren't, everywhere.  

While some motorists deliberately ignore such a rule because they feel entitled to a road "my taxes paid for" (well, so did mine and those of every other cyclist!), others don't realize such regulations exist.  For that matter, many law enforcement officials aren't cognizant of them as well.

On Wednesday morning, a Las Vegas police officer rode a bicycle equipped with a laser device that measured the distance between bicycles and passing cars along a popular loop. He called out violations to  more than a dozen other officers staged  along that route. By that afternoon, 170 cars were stopped for violations or warnings, 184 citations were handed out and about 30 warnings were given to drivers.

Sgt. Michael Campbell rides bicycle as part of enforcement effort on West Charleston Boulevard in Las Vegas. (Photo by K.M. Cannon for the Las Vegas Journal-Review

Of course, roads and other bike routes are almost never as heavily-patrolled as that Las Vegas loop was on Wednesday.  I am all but certain that the nearby road where a truck ran down Gerard Suarez Nieva, Thomas Chamberlin Trauger, Erin Michelle Ray, Aksoy Ahmet and Michael Todd Murray on 10 December didn't have the kind of police presence--or a video surveillance camera. 

Will They Demand To See Our Papers?

 "Rob in VA," who's commented on some of my posts, notes increased aggression from drivers.

A couple of days ago, I posited that some of that aggression--and the increased hostility we, and peaceful protesters, are experiencing -- has at least something to do with the President's implicit wink and nod to haters.

If you think I'm being paranoid, check out what happened to someone who tried to ride through Portland's Delta Park:

Earlier in Delta Park, some yelled ‘get him’ to a bicyclist passing through and then pursued and stopped and harassed him - before letting him pass thru pic.twitter.com/I5KUReLQ0R

— Maxine Bernstein (@maxoregonian) September 26, 2020

 

Those folks had no authority to do what they did. Later that day, though, some people with authority--namely, Portland Police Bureau officers--shoved a cyclist off his bike and onto the ground for no apparent reason.

Bicycling While (Fill In The Blank)

It was a hot afternoon.  I was pedaling home after teaching a summer class.  A van pulled up alongside me. One of its tinted windows rolled down.  "Nice legs!" 

I was still early in my life as Justine, but I guess I was already jaded enough not to hear that voice--or, at least, act as if I hadn't heard.  I continued to ride.  The van inched closer to me.  "Nice bike!"

Again, I ignored the voice.  But the van jacknifed in front of me.  Two doors opened.  Two men in uniform bounded out.

"What's your problem?"

"I hear stuff like that all the time.  I ignore it."

"Well, you should listen to us. We're cops."

"Well, I've never heard a cop talk like you."

"Shut up.  Show me your ID."

"Why?"  

The cop's partner demanded to know what I was doing "in the projects."  I politely pointed out that I wasn't "in the projects" and even if I were, it wouldn't have been an offense.

"Don't be a wise-ass! Show me your ID."

At that moment, I realized he was seized with "roid rage."  His partner most likely was, too.  My immediate goal, then, was to not end up in their van.

Then the guy who "complimented" my legs and bike lectured me about listening to cops and doing as I was told--and not making trouble.

To this day, I don't know what kind of "trouble" I was making.  It's probably a good thing I didn't find out:  If those guys could make up an "offense" (being in the projects) I didn't even commit, I could only imagine what sort of story they'd concoct if they hauled me off and I ended up...in a ditch?

I thought about that incident when I read about Dijon Kizzee.  He was riding his bicycle "illegally" in South Los Angeles on Monday. At least, that's what the cops claimed when they stopped him. 

Dijon Kizzee

He tried to flee.  Deputies shot and killed him.  Later, a gun was found on the scene.

Oh, but this story becomes, shall we say, even more interesting when the LA County Sheriff's  Department tells it.  "During the contact, a fight ensued between the suspect and deputies.  The suspect produced a handgun and a deputy-involved 'hit' shooting occurred."  

A "deputy-involved 'hit' shooting"?  Did that come from an episode of Miami Vice?  Or is it a re-creation of an event that never made it into the history books:  something that a constable in, say, Mississippi or Alabama did after a wardrobe change--from blue to white?

The LASD statement continues:  " The suspect's handgun was recovered.  The suspect was pronounced deceased at the scene."

What piques the curiosity of some, and the ire of others (including Dijon Kizzee's family) is what the reports don't say--or how they contradict each other.  What law, exactly, was he breaking on his bike? Did he flee or did he fight?  And, when he "produced" the gun, did he drop or aim it?

Do I have to mention Mr. Kizzee's race?  I don't know much about the laws in LA or CA.  Maybe there is some stature about Bicycling While Black (BWB) in La-la-land.  Likewise, I may have violated a regulation against Bicycling While Transgender (BWT)that came into existence the moment two cops pulled alongside me one hot afternoon. 

Black Lives Matter!

Mellow Johnny Sends A Loud, Clear Message

I love food and music.  So, some of you may find it unfathomable, or even criminal, that I've never been to Austin, Texas.

Perhaps I'll get there one day.  In addition to the sounds and savory stuff, there's another reason to visit.

I mean, even if you don't care about bicycles, how can you not want to check out a place called "Mellow Johnny's Bike Shop?"

Apparently, they're part of a chain in the area, each store with its own management.  So, a policy at Mellow Johnny's in Austin might not prevail at MJ's in, for example, Fort Worth.

Actually, that scenario is not as hypothetical as I made it seem. In fact, the Austin shop has done something that the managers of the Fort Worth store aren't--and don't agree with.

Will Black, the general manager Mellow Johnny's--Austin, has announced, on social media, that the shop won't be selling any more bikes to the city's police department.  "It was a staff-wide store decision," he said, "that we discussed for a pretty good length of time to make sure we were all on the same page and doing the right thing." 

No one incident sparked the decision, he explained.  Rather, he and his employees were concerned that, during Black Lives Matter protests in the city, officers were using the bikes to block Black Lives Matter demonstrators.

On Wednesday, when Black announced the decision, Mellow Johnny's was in the second year of a five-year contract with the police department, which has more than 150 bicycle patrol officers in its downtown area police command.   The shop's action follows similar moves in the industry.  BikeCo, the North American distributor of Fuji bicycles, suspended sales to police forces in June, citing the use of bikes as weapons in protest marches.  That move is significant because Fuji had been one of the major bicycle suppliers to police forces in the United States.

"We are not anti-police," Mellow Johnny's post continued. "We believe our local police will protect us from the threats we are receiving right now" on social media.  Thankfully, there have also been messages of support--which, I suppose, isn't too surprising, given Austin's reputation as a "progressive" community--and the sense of fairness and justice I have seen in cyclists throughout my decades of riding and working in shops.

Going For A Cyclist's Jugular--Or His Neck, Anyway

Getting knocked or pulled--or simply falling--off your bike is almost certain to cause you injury.   Trust me, I know!

So when someone sent along this news clip, I felt rage at the cops.




What isn't clear is what, exactly, the kid did to warrant that kind of treatment. The street was closed off so neither the young man, nor the friends who were riding with him, "obstructed" traffic, as one of the officers claimed.

It seems that those boys did little, if anything, more than to taunt the cops: something that kids of that age, who naturally thumb their noses at authority figures, are wont to do.  

I have to wonder, in the wake of George Floyd'ss murder, what one of those cops was thinking when he went for the kid's neck.

They Got A McCoy, But Not The Real Burglar

I'm almost never an "early adopter" when it comes to technology.  Two years after getting an iPhone, I'm still adapting to--and sometimes resisting--it.  Some features are nice, but there are some functions I rarely, if ever use.  In fact, I keep some of them turned off.

One of those features is the tracking device.  Sometimes I'll use it to help me find directions and, I suppose, if I were lost or in some sort of emergency, it might help me to find my way or for someone to find me.  But I think it's just creepy that my whereabouts could be known at all times.

Actually, it's more than creepy.  It can be disruptive, even dangerous.  That's something Zachary McCoy of Gainesville, Florida learned the hard way.

Zachary McCoy

He'd been using RunKeeper to track his cycling as Google location services were activated on his Android phone.  During one ride nearly a year ago, he passed by the same house three times in the space of an hour.

It just happened that the house was the scene of a burglary.

Google shared this location data.  It wasn't enough for law enforcement officials to identify him personally, at least not immediately.  

But he would later receive an e-mail from Google's legal investigation team, notifying him that local police made a request for information from his account.  The company explained that it would release the data unless he went to court to block it--and that he had seven days to do so.  "I didn't know what it was about, but I knew the police wanted to get something from me," McCoy recalled in a recent interview. "I was afraid I was going to get charged with something, I don't know what."  

He had no previous record, and there police had no reason--other than the data from Google--to suspect him.  His lawyer, Caleb Kenyon, criticized the police for making their decision based on a hunch rather than traditional policing techniques. "This geoforce warrant effectively casts a blind net backwards in time, hoping to ensnare a burglar," Kenyon said.  "This concept is akin to the plotline in many a science fiction film featuring a dystopian, facist government."

Later, the police in Florida withdrew the original location request, claiming that new details emerged that led them to believe that McCoy was not the real culprit.  They would not, however, share what those details were.  

In any event, this incident shows us how far some law enforcement officials will go, and what methods--however flawed--they will use to track down a suspect, even if he or she is potentially innocent. It also begs the question of how things might have turned out for a guy who was riding his bike and minding his own business if he couldn't afford a lawyer and defend himself in court.

Oh, and it reaffirms my commitment to cycling without electronic devices.

 

She's 14. And She's Black. That Can Only Mean....

Mary Barton found herself lying on the ground, her hands cuffed behind her.

She rode her bike on someone's property. Or so the owner of said property said.  Said property owner called the police.  Two officers showed up.  One of them told her she could leave, but the second officer told her to stop.

Officer #2 claimed the bike was stolen and demanded identification.  She said she didn't have to produce it  (Apparently, she was paying attention in her civics class!) and, furthermore, the bike is hers and she's had it since December.  Then the cop pulled out his pepper spray and told her to call her mom. 

Mary Burton is 14 years old.  If you haven't already watched the video, you might have guessed that she's black.  Oh, and she's in North Little Rock, Arkansas.

Her brother, a year older, rushes to her aid and both are up against the police car.  Mary fell to the ground, her hands cuffed behind her.

Well, I guess those cops at least believe in gender equality:  Usually, it's the guys who get stopped for riding a bicycle (or driving) while black.  

Is This What It Takes To Charge A Driver Who Strikes A Cyclist?

If you read the post I wrote yesterday, you could tell I was angry.  I still am.  Another story that came my way intensified my rage.

In Omaha, a 26-year-old woman was arrested after hitting a cyclist with her car.

You can be forgiven for thinking that I should view this arrest as "progress" after a driver in my hometown got off with a sympathetic pat on the shoulder from a police officer after he killed a cyclist.



But the driver wasn't charged with any injury she caused the cyclist. Instead, she was cited for DUI, reckless driving, child neglect (her infant was improperly restrained in the rear of her car) and having an open alcohol container.  

I guess I should be grateful that she was cited for anything at all.  I can't help but to think, however, that the only reason why she was charged with anything at all is that the cyclist in question was an Omaha police officer.

He'll Have Lots Of Time For His Imaginary Friends

In more than three decades of cycling in New York City, I have had a few encounters with police officers and have observed many more.  I have come to the conclusion that the officers can be classified as follows:

• The ones who are actually cyclists and understand how it's different from being a pedestrian or motorist.  These, I believe, are the smallest group.

• The ones who act is if they know cycling, and the law.  This is a larger group.

• The ones who charge messengers, members of minority groups and any cyclist who doesn't appear to be white and well-educated with violations of actual or imaginary laws.  In this group are the ones who stop cyclists for Riding While Black.

I thought I had the whole NYPD covered until I heard about this:  an officer who wrote a summons for a cyclist who doesn't even exist.

Yes, you read that right.  Varon Shepard, a 49-year-old 19-year veteran of the force, showed not only his disdain for cyclists, but also his bigotry, overall ignorance and sheer avariciousness in writing a ticket to one "Carlos Dejuses."

I think he meant "De Jesus."  It wouldn't have surprised me if that mis-spelling had alerted someone.  But the thing that led to Shepard being shepherded out of the Department is that the time of the ticket is 11 am on 25 February.  His supervisor, as it turns out, saw him in the 17th Precinct Station house--six blocks away from where the bogus infractions were supposed to have taken place--until 12:45 pm that day.

Oh, and for the work of his creative imagination, shall we say, Shepard billed the New York Police Department for four hours of overtime.

For his efforts, the NYPD is giving him a conditional discharge.  The condition is that he resign from the force.

I am sure "Carlos Dejuses" would be happy--and hope that Varon Shepard has no hard feelings toward him!

Motorist Who Mowed Down Cyclist Arrested

On this blog, I have often decried the lackadaisical or even hostile response from law enforcement officials when a cyclist is maimed or killed by a motorist who was speeding, driving while impaired or operating the vehicle in some other illegal manner.

I also try to bring attention to law enforcement officials who are diligent in pursuing those who endanger or destroy lives by hurtling down the road inside two tons of steel.  In Michigan's Macomb County, just outside of Detroit, such work by the constables has led to the arrest of a man who blew through an intersection at 70 MPH, mowed down a cyclist who happened to be crossing the road, and didn't stop or even slow down.

Randy Menendez  

Randy Menendez, a 60-year-old father,  was riding his bike home from a friend's house at 6:27 pm on 3 February.  He'd planned to watch the Super Bowl with his family, according to his sister Roseanne Menendez.  He was crossing Groesbeck Highway in Warren when a gray Dodge Charger with a temporary tag in the rear window, and tinted side windows, struck him.  

He didn't make it. His clothes and mangled bike were scattered across the road.  



Some time after the crash, the driver had the Charger towed to a house in Detroit, where police found it under a tarp.  

The car, it turned out, had been leased.  That no doubt helped police in finding the driver, a 24-year-old man whose name hasn't yet been released.  He faces a charge of leaving the scene of a fatal crash, a felony that carries a 15-year sentence.

Although I commend the police officers' work, I have to wonder whether other charges will be brought against him.  At the risk of seeming vengeful, I'd like to be sure that someone who took a cyclist's--and father's--life with such seeming disregard won't get out for "good behavior" after, say, five years.

Be Careful What You Get Arrested For...

Getting arrested is generally not a good thing.  At least, that's what I'm assuming:  I haven't suffered the indignity myself, though I've come close!

I must confess that I can feel a bit self-righteous, even smug, when I recall that the times I almost found myself in the back of a police wagon, I wasn't committing "bad" crimes:  I was engaged in protests and, being young and stupid, I gave the constables a hard time when they told us to move.  

Deep down, I do have more respect for someone who's arrested for protesting an unjust war or unfair treatment of workers than for, say, beating a spouse or stealing someone's Social Security check.  I suppose most people feel the same way.  

So I guess my advice to future generations would be something like "Be careful of what you get arrested for."  Oh, and don't let the cops find worse things on your record when they run your name through their computers.

Of course, anyone who would listen to such advice probably doesn't need to hear it.  On the other hand, Roberto Carlos DeLeon most likely would not heed my pearl of wisdom, or much of anything I'd say.



During a traffic stop in San Angelo, Texas, he was found to be in possession of less than two ounces of marijuana.  When the officer checked his records, a warrant was found--for assault causing bodily injury of a family member and continuous violence against the family.

Sounds like a real charmer, doesn't he?

And what led to the traffic stop that opened up this Pandora's box?  He was riding a bicycle with "defective" brakes, headlights and reflector.

Hmm...I wonder how the cops determined that his brakes were "defective".  Was he unable to stop when he was ordered to do so?