When A Death Is A "Failure To Yield"

A Postal Service driver runs over and kills a cyclist.

Five months later, that driver is...charged with a misdemeanor for "failure to yield." And he's gotten a ticket for..."failure to exercise due care."

That "failure to yield" charge "doesn't even suggest that a man died," Christopher Brimer lamented.  "It's more  like, 'Whoopsie, I guess I didn't look."

Ms. Brimer has a right to be angry:  The cyclist who died in the crash on 29 June is her husband, Jeffrey Williamson.  He was riding northbound (uptown to us New Yorkers) on Central Park West.  He had the right of way as he crossed the intersection at West 86th Street when Sergei Alekseev made a right turn with his 2019m Peterbilt truck.  Around 5:40 pm--still broad daylight at that time of year--Alekseev slammed into Williamson.

Jeffrey Williamson (inset) and the scene of his fatal crash.  Photo by Ken Coughlin, from Streetsblog

A civil notice of claim has been filed against the Postal Service, but won't be dealt with until after the criminal case is resolved.  Brimer's lawyer, Steve Vaccaro says that Alekseev should plead guilty.

Even though the charges against him seem almost trivial, they are still exceptionally rare.  Last year, the NYPD wrote 35,257 summonses for failure to yield.  That translates to roughly one per day in each of the city's 77 precincts.  What's even more galling is that such summonses are rare even in fatal crashes:  Streetsblog reported that in 2019, only six drivers--about one out of five-- who killed cyclists got so much as a summons.  The rate for drivers who killed pedestrians, while better, is still too low:  58 percent.

What makes Williamson's death all the more egregious, though, is that Alekseev was driving where trucks aren't permitted.  (I know this because I've cycled on Central Park West many times, before and since the bike lane was designated on it.)  On top of that, the USPS has a reputation of "getting away with murder." It is a behemoth that can summon lots of money and other resources.  I don't know what Brimer's financial situation is, but even if she's a multimillionaire and Vaccaro is one of the best lawyers in the world, she's fighting a lonely battle--against the USPS, and the hidebound culture of the NYPD that could only come up with a charge of "failure to yield" in her husband's death.

Priorities

 If you have ever crashed, which did you take care of first:  your body or your bike?

John Karras R.I.P.

It began as a lark. Nearly half a century later, it had become the world's oldest, largest and longest bike recreational bike ride.

In 1973, a couple of Iowa newspaper guys decided to pedal across their state:  about 700 kilometers from the Missouri to the Mississippi River.  They wrote about their adventures for their newspaper which, as one of the riders jokingly said, allowed them to claim that their adventure was part of their job and therefore get the newspaper to pay for it.

Perhaps more surprising to them, though, was that they went along with their editor's idea of allowing readers to ride with them--something one of the two fellows thought was "stupid."  His disdain turned to anxiety when more than 100 riders showed up at the starting line.

So was the Register's Annual Great Bicycle Ride Across Iowa (RAGBRAI) born.  The ride has set off every year since except for 2020, owing to the pandemic.  The most edition of the ride included more than 15,000 cyclists.

Perhaps more important, RAGBRAI--which could have disappeared along with the 1970s Bike Boom--helped to spur interest in bike touring and, arguably, led to the construction of a bike lane network that criscrosses the state, as well as bike routes beyond the Hawkeye State's boundaries.  It also helped to raise the State's profile, which people identify with RAGBRAI ("that ride") in much the same way that France is linked to its Tour and Italy to the Giro.

When they founded the ride, Donald Kaul and John Karras were Register columnists.  Kaul passed away from cancer three years ago.  He was 83 years old.  Earlier this week, 91-year-old Karras followed him to that great bike tour in the sky.

I hope to do RAGBRAI.  And I will remember Karras--and Kaul.

John Karras

Disabled Man's Bike Stolen

In yesterday's post, I talked about the importance of bicycles, sometimes modified, for people with disabilities.  Some people, like a man I mentioned, can't get drivers' licenses because of their disabilities, but they can still pedal a two- or three-wheeler.  That can allow disabled folks to get to jobs or classes, or exercise, they might not have otherwise.  Being able to study, make a living and get exercise--or simply enjoy some of the other things normally-abled people take for granted--brings about a sense of independence and some semblance of control over their lives.  

For some disabled people, such as Randy Bowling, simply getting a bike is an accomplishment.  The 50-year-old Hamilton, Ohio resident suffered a traumatic brain injury at age 16.  A few months ago, he spent $157 on a bike he rode four miles, each way, to and from his job at a Wal-Mart.  "It was the first bike I ever bought myself," he said.

Now that bike is gone.  On Saturday night, Bowling rode to the door of a nearby store.  He stepped inside and, less than a minute later, a man rode up on another bike, grabbed Bowling's ride, and took off.  The theft was captured on the store's video camera.

Although he needs the job and says he's prepared to walk to work if he must, Bowling says he doesn't feel angry toward the guy who took his bike.  "I'd rather talk to him and help him get a job," he expains.

Helping Veterans--And Everyone--With Disabilites

Today is Veterans' Day here in the US.  I don't know what I could say to, or about, veterans that isn't a platitude at best.  What I can say, though, is that I am pro-veteran precisely because I am anti-war. It's a disgrace to see a former service member living under an overpass and, honestly, the kind of health care, physical and mental, that too many veterans get--or don't get.

What I say is especially true of disabled veterans.  Even those whose immediate needs are being met by the Veterans' Administration and other organizations often face other challenges, especially in terms of mobility.  That difficulty in getting around is not just an inconvenience or a destroyer of pleasure; it also deters too many veterans (and other disabled people) from employment, education and the means of obtaining and maintaining health.  

Although Chesterfield, Virginia resident James Howard's paralysis wasn't a result of his service in the 82nd Airborne Division, the retired US Army Ranger understands just how important mobility is. He was given a recumbent bicycle adapted to his needs after his diving accident.  That inspired him to "give back," he says, by advocating for fellow veterans and people with disabilities.  

He has also helped in a more concrete way by launching REACHcycles.  To date, it has provided over 600 adaptable three-wheeled bikes to disabled veterans, children and other folks. Recipients have included a triple amputee as well as a blind child.  Those bikes allow their riders to go to jobs and schools to which they might not otherwise have access. (I am thinking now of a man I knew, now gone, who couldn't get a drivers' license because of his lack of peripheral vision.  He could, however, ride his bike to work.)  They also help, especially the kids, to prevent other health problems:  Disabled people often become obese and develop diabetes and other degenerative conditions as a result of their physical inactivity.  

So, being the pro-veteran person I am, I want to say that the Veterans' Administration and other relevant government entities (and insurance companies) should pay folks like James Howard--and the folks who build and adapt the bikes he provides--for their services.  And, of course, provide them with anything else they need for their physical and mental health.      

For Her Country, And Everyone’s

 Many cycling events, from local charity rides to races involving world-class riders, have been cancelled or postponed during the pandemic.  The cancelled rides were, mostly, annual events, and one assumes that they will resume once things return to “normal,” whatever that may mean.

On the other hand, Afghanistan’s female cyclists have no such hope.  Nobody really knows what could return that country to what it was three months ago, before the Taliban took power.  Women are losing the rights they regained during the past two decades—including, in effect, the right to ride a bicycle, an effect of the Taliban’s dress codes and prohibition against women venturing outside their homes without a male relative.

For some women, not being allowed to ride a bike means that they have no way to get to their jobs or schools—if indeed they are still allowed to work or study.  For some, though, it spells the end of their lives unless they can get out of the country and have a sponsor or other help waiting for them wherever they land.

Those women include Rukhsar Habibzi. Before she evacuated from Kabul Airport (just before it shut down) she was riding with the Afghan women’s national team and attending dental school.  Oh, and her activism got her a nomination for a Nobel Peace Prize—and threats of gender-based violence.

From Kabul, she was brought to Quatar, then to a US military base in Germany and an immigration center in New Jersey, where she waited for an emergency visa before settling in another state last week. 

She is slated to compete through 2023 for the Twenty24 development team.  Twenty24 owner Nicola Cranmer has set up a GoFundMe page to help Habibzai with rent, food, utilities, clothing, books and tuition. This fundraising effort “is not to fund a cycling team,” Cranmer stresses. Rather, she is trying to help a young woman become “the best athlete, student and leader she can be” after leaving her country “with just her purse.”  As an emergency visa holder, Habibzai gets very little assistance from the government.

She probably has dreams of winning races.  But Habibzai summed up her real goal in training and studying: “I want to showcase the physical and mental strength of an Afghan woman to Afghanistan and the whole world.” That, she believes, will show that “a woman is not weak” and that “success can be achieved by any gender.”

I’d be happy to have someone like her in my country!

What Do They Carry?

 Every once in a while, I see an article or blogpost about carrying stuff on your bicycle.  They mention the usual things:  racks, panniers, other bike bags, baskets, backpacks, trailers and such.

None of them, though, has ever mentioned anything like this:

Saving The Colors

Saturday was the last day of Daylight Savings Time.  It would be the last time until Spring I could start not much before noon, take a longish ride and get home before dark.  So I rode to--where else?--Connecticut. 

Connecticut is just a north of my apartment.  It's actually not very far "as the crow flies," but the geography and topography make it impossible to go like a crow.  Why would I want to be a crow anyway?  I wouldn't be able to ride my bike and, well, their diet isn't very appealing.

But I digress.  Connecticut is just far enough north that the Fall foliage is a few days ahead of ours in Astoria.  I figured, correctly, that it would be at or near peak.

In downtown Greenwich, I saw quite a few people out and about.  The day was chilly, but it was illuminated by that perfect autumnal light.  

Given how awful I felt on Thursday, I could hardly believe how wonderful I, and everything around me, felt.  I pedaled into a fairly stiff wind most of the way up.  The flip-side of that, of course, is that the wind blew me into the sunset.

From the Randalls Island Connector it's about another six kilometers to my apartment--just enough for me to enjoy the last flickerings of twilight.  And that night I'd have an extra hour of sleep after a 140 km ride.

Which Way?

 Could this be the cycling equivalent of "sitting on the fence?"

Will They Get Bikes For Christmas?

If you've tried to buy a bike, or replace parts on one you have, you may have had a difficult time.  COVID restrictions has stopped production and interrupted shipping and distribution all over the world. In the meantime, demand for bikes and parts has increased, as people were reluctant to take mass transportation (or, in some places, it was shut down altogether) and people found that cycling is one way to get to where you're going, get exercise along the way, and adhere to social distancing protocols.

All of that meant a boom in business for bike shops--as long as they had stock.  When supplies dried up, some kept their doors open by doing repairs, as people grew frustrated at not finding the bike or accessory they wanted.  But when supplies of new parts disappeared, those shops cannibalized other bikes for parts---until those ran out.

Thus did a sad irony unfold:  The very "boom" that led, for some shops, to their best profits in years or decades also led to their demise.  Not even well-established and well-respected shops were immune, as we saw when Harris Cyclery shuttered in June.

Now, this pandemic could claim another casualty:  Programs that give bikes to kids from needy families.  One such program is in Mississippi. The Community Benefit Committee of the Lowndes County Sheriff's office has been giving out bikes for the past ten years.  Some of those bikes come through donations, but the majority are purchased, wholesale, from Huffy.  The money comes from events like the Haunted House as well. 

This year's House brought in more than enough money to purchase the bicycles.  But Huffy says it doesn't have bikes to sell them.  Neither, of course, does the local Wal Mart.  

CBC founder and director Rhonda Sanders still holds out hope that there will be some bicycles available. But, just in case there aren't, she is making alternate plans to bring toys to younger kids or technology-related items for older ones.

Learning about Sanders' and the CBC's situation, I have to wonder how many similar programs are in jeopardy--not only this year.  After all, once factories that make bikes, parts and accessories are operating at full capacity, and shipping and distribution channels are flowing freely, warehouses and shops won't be fully restocked overnight.