Edward Adkins: A Victim of Phantom Law Syndrome

During one of my many rides to Point Lookout, I was riding between a traffic jam and the shoulder of Lido Boulevard, just west of the Meadowbrook Parkway entrance.  As I recall, it was a weekday, so I wondered why there so many cars along the Boulevard headed away from Point Lookout. 

I soon had my answer.  Just past the high school, a truck crashed--apparently, from swerving.  The light turned red; I stopped.

"Ma'am.  Get over here!"  I didn't think the burly man in a suit was yelling to me--until he scuttled in front of me.

"I'm talking to you!  When I say come, come!"

"Why?  You're not my father!"

"Don't get cute with me!"

"As if I could..."

"Listen, I don't wanna arrest you..."

"For what..."

"Never mind.  See that truck over there."

I nodded.

"Well, there's a guy on a bike under it, with his skull crushed.  Doesn't look like he's gonna make it."

"Oh, dear..."

"Listen, that coulda been you!"

"Well, I'm careful."

"Well, you were riding carelessly."

"How so?"

"You were riding between cars..."

I wasn't, but I didn't argue.  Then he lectured me about bicycle safety, pointing out that he was a "bicycle safety officer" for the local police department.  I had the impression that everything he knew about bicycle safety, he learned from one of those movies they used to show kids back in the days of "air raid drills".

"That's against the lore (translation:  law), ya' no'."

Then he ordered me to take off my sunglasses.  "Doesn't look like yer under the influence."  Squinting, I slid them back onto my face.

"Where do ya live?" he demanded.

"Astoria."

"You rode all the way from Queens?"  Again, I nodded.

"Well, at least you're wearing a helmet.   The guy under the truck wasn't."

Silence.  Then, "Listen, be careful. I really don't want you getting hurt.  And remember...don't ride between cars.  If I see you doin' that again, I'll hafta write you up."

Later, I looked up the traffic and bicycle codes for the town where I encountered that officer.  I couldn't find any prohibition against riding between cars.  Nor could I find any such regulation in county codes or New York State law. An attorney I contacted called that officer's assertion "nonsense".

Now, the officer I encountered that day may have been upset after dealing with a cyclist who got his head crushed under a truck. Or he may have been having a bad day for some other reason, or had some sort of unspecified rage--or a more specific animus against cyclists, or me as an "uppity" (at least, in the eyes of someone like him) female.  

Or he may have just been suffering from what I call "Phantom Law Syndrome".  

To be fair, police officers aren't the only ones prone to PLS. Lots of people think there are, or aren't, laws against one thing or another in their jurisdiction.  So, they might break a law without realizing it, or keep themselves from doing something because they believe, incorrectly, that there's a law against it. Or they might accuse someone of breaking a law that doesn't exist.

Also--again, to be fair--laws change.  Sometimes they're struck down, aren't renewed or replaced with other laws. Or  they're passed with little or no fanfare.  So, it's not inconceivable that some officer or detective wouldn't be aware of such changes.

I was reminded of those things, and the encounter I've described, when I came across the sad saga of Edward Adkins.

Edward Adkins

Nearly two years ago, a police officer saw the Dallas native riding his bicycle, sans helmet, in his hometown. Apparently, the constable didn't realized that the city's ordinance mandating helmets had been struck down, at least for adults, a few months earlier.  Adkins, 46 years old, lives off odd jobs and didn't have $10 to pay the fine.  

Now there is a warrant for his arrest, which he can pay off--for $259.30.  

Now, I am not a lawyer, and I certainly am not familiar with the police or courts in Dallas.  Still, I can't help but to think that there must be a way to lift the warrant--and to void the ticket because it shouldn't have been issued in the first place.

Even if he has such recourse, though, I imagine it would be very difficult for Adkins to pursue.  After all, doing so would take time and money that he, apparently, doesn't have. 

It also doesn't help Adkins that, in addition to being poor, he is black and lives in a neighborhood comprised mainly of people like him.  Living under such circumstances leaves you even more vulnerable to police officers and other authorities with PLS.  For that matter, laws that actually do exist for such things as wearing helmets and against such things as riding on the sidewalk are more often, and more strictly, enforced in poor minority neighborhoods than in other areas.   I have witnessed it myself:  Not long ago, while riding through the East New York section of Brooklyn, I saw three officers grab one young black man who rode his bike on the sidewalk while a young white couple pedaled through a red light.

Now that I think back to that encounter with the "bicycle safety officer" on Lido Boulevard, I can't help but to wonder how it might've turned out if I'd been darker and poorer (or, at least, riding a bike that wasn't as nice as the one I was riding)--or if I hadn't been wearing a helmet, whether or not one was mandated.

Does The Fourth Amendment Apply To Us?

 

Seven years ago, I became one of many cyclists subjected to “phantom law syndrome:” A police officer pulled me over, claiming that I violated a law that didn’t exist. Whether he mistakenly believed the law existed (like the driver who claimed that I shouldn’t be driving on “her” street because a nearby street had a bike lane) or simply made it up, I hadn’t, in any case, violated it!

I got to thinking about that incident when I heard about another cyclist whom the police stopped.

Nearly a decade ago, Lance Rodriguez, then 20 years old, was riding his bike in Far Rockaway—a neighborhood I often ride through.  A passing cop thought he saw something “bulky” in Lance’s pants. (Make what you will of that statement. I won’t judge you for having a dirty mind!) To be fair, that “bulky” thing was indeed a gun. 

One thing was arguably unfair:  Rodriguez was arrested and served two years in prison.  In contrast, Bernhard Goetz shot four young Black men whom he claimed were trying to rob him. One was paralyzed. Goetz served eight months of a one-year sentence for possessing an illegal gun, but was acquitted of the attempted murder, assault and reckless endangerment charges.

Another unfair aspect of Rodriguez’s arrest and incarceration, according Hannah Kon, it is that they probably wouldn’t have happened had he been driving a car, or in some other space. Not to mention that, according to Kon—who represented him in his appeal—his imprisonment disrupted the career he was starting as a chef.

A majority of judges on the Court of Appeals agreed with Rodriguez’s contention that his Fourth Amendment rights (to not be searched without “probable cause”) were not respected because, in essence, he was more exposed and vulnerable to force on his bicycle than he would’ve been in a car.

The minority of judges who voted against the decision claim that it will keep police from conducting the searches that are sometimes necessary in order to prevent crime. Kon disagrees:  “Police can still pull over anyone on the road who’s violating a traffic law.  Including cyclists,” she noted. “They can pull over anyone on the road who they reasonably suspect who has committed or is about to commit a crime. The decision doesn’t change any of that.”

The decision—or more precisely, Rodriguez’s arrest and incarceration beg the questions of what “probable cause” is—and whether it means something different for cyclists from what it means for drivers or—dare I say it—for white or non-white cyclists. Or, more to the point, will police officers continue to find “probable cause” on cyclists—especially those of us of color—because they can, because we’re more exposed and vulnerable? 

Oh, and will “probable cause” continue to include alleged violations of phantom laws?

A Criminal Deems Cyclists As Criminals--Even If We're Not Breaking The Law

 The Fake Tan Fuhrer, I mean Donald Trump, is not unique as a chief executive who, in essence, says that the law says whatever he says it is.  Nearly four centuries ago Louis XIV decreed, "L'etat, c'est moi"--I am the state.  And three centuries later, longtime Jersey City mayor Frank Hague famously reminded a reporter, "I am the law."

Now it seems that the New York City Police Department is operating under such a principle, at least when it comes to cyclists.  Mayor Eric Adams, a career constable himself, has essentially given officers license not only to mis-interpret laws, but also to harass, I mean subordinate cyclists and pedestrians through "Phantom Law Syndrome." Worse yet, some rogue cops are entrapping cyclists by crossing into their paths to avoid them and, in some cases, oncoming ebikes or crossing pedestrians and charging said cyclists with "endangerment."  One cyclist who had such an encounter on the Manhattan side of the Williamsburg Bridge was given an additional charge of "obstructing the administration of justice" for protesting what said officer did.

Police officers like him are ostensibly acting under Adams' mandate to target "quality of life offenses."  That has the stench of the now-discredited "broken windows" and "stop and frisk" methods of policing, neither of which had a significant, if any, effect on crime (which was already in decline when those policies were implemented) and both of which had the same effect:  arrests, convictions, fines and sentences for disproportionate people of color, poverty and non-conforming sexual orientation and gender identity and expression. Oh, and the cops are concentrating their efforts on the major corridors of Upper Manhattan, Central-East Brooklyn and the South Bronx--all largely poor and "minority" parts of town.

And, it seems, something similar is happening among those Adams--who is desperately trying to keep his political career alive--is targeting.  While the stated purpose of his directive is to crack down on eBikes and motorized bikes, the cops have gone after the "low hanging fruit"--cyclists and pedestrians--whether or not they have actually committed offenses.

Photo by Josh Katz for NYC Streetsblog

But perhaps the most galling aspect of this new offensive, which started last week, is that it calls for issuing court summonses instead of the standard traffic ticket written for most violations.  In other words, instead of simply paying a fine, anyone who receives the summons has to appear in court and therefore runs the risk of having a criminal record, which could be disastrous for some immigrants, students and people in certain jobs and professions.

The cynic in me says that Adams--who, like another former New York City mayor (Rudolph Giuliani) realizes that he has no political future and that any future at all is dependent on his staying out of prison and in the good graces of FTF, a criminal on an even grander scale.  So, perhaps, he is trying to show his loyalty to Donnie Boy by mirroring his hatred for bicycles and cyclists. 

Oh, and advocates, lawmakers and legal experts question whether the NYPD even has the authority to, in essence, turn tickets into summonses. Perhaps Adams is also imitating Mango Mussolini's disdain for the law.  

Judge Stewart Knows

"I know it when I see it."

We've all heard that declaration.  Perhaps we've even used it ourselves.  The person uttering it is usually trying to categorize something according to a category that lacks clearly-defined parameters.

It may be Judge Potter Stewart who immortalized it.  In Jacobellis vs Ohio, the US Supreme Court reversed the state's conviction of a theatre manager who showed Louis Malle's Film Les Amants (The Lovers).  A court in the Buckeye state ruled that Nico Jacobellis violated Ohio's anti-obscenity law by screening a film it had deemed "pornographic."

Stewart, in concurring with the Supreme Court's majority ruling, said that the First Amendment protected all obscenity but "hard-core pornography."  When asked to define it, he admitted he couldn't, and could say only, "I know it when I see it."

He might well have given the same answer to this question:
What's the difference between a motor-assisted bicycle and a motorcycle?  

Until about World War II, most people would have had trouble telling the difference.  Up to that time, most motorcycles looked like bicycles with motors attached to them--and, in many cases, were effectively just that.  

I was reminded of that when someone sent me an article about Vintage Electric's new Scrambler S electric bicycle. 



It also reminded me of some bikes I saw during my childhood.  There were machines like the Schwinn Phantom that had fake "tanks"--usually, with battery-powered headlights built into them--between the top tube and the twin cantilevers. A few years later, Schwinn would introduce their "Krate" line and Raleigh its "Chopper", which consciously emulated the low-slung motorcycles that became popular during the 1960's and 1970s.

Those bikes didn't have motors.  But if they had, what would have differentiated them from 1970s "mini bikes"?

Judge Stewart would have had the answer.

He Didn't Have A Phantom Condition. He Was Assaulted.

When I wrote for newspapers, a few things frustrated me.  Among them were politicians and other officials who'd talk around my questions.  Another was the constraints one editor put on me and other writers.  So, as I complained to another writer, "I can write about cops and robbers but I can't write about the real crimes."

But nothing twisted my panties or chamois bike short liners (remember those?) more than headline writers.  They'd come up with phrasings that, sometimes said something different from, or even the exact opposite of, what my article described.  Or sometimes what they wrote things that someone, especially if they came from a different generation, culture or other life experience might hear differently from what was intended.

I saw an example of this today:  "Boy Beaten and Bruised in Bicycle Face Attack at LI School Parking Lot:  Cops."  

Now, perhaps I'm a bit of a geek, at least in this sense:  I can say, without boasting, that I probably know more about the history of bicycles and bicycling than anyone who's not a specialist in that field.  So when I saw "Bicycle Face," I immediately thought of the rationale conservatives during the 1885-1905 Bike Boom gave for keeping women off bicycles.  They believed that the rigors of being out in public, in rain and wind and sun, and of simply being on a bicycle, twisted their pretty little heads into what they called "Bicycle Face."

Now, of course, with all due respect to Long Island law enforcement officials, I doubt that their training includes ways of recognizing Bicycle Face--or that most of them have even heard of the term, even if they are cyclists.  And I think it's even less likely that some random thug (the victim is a 13-year-old boy; the perp is believed to be a good bit older and six feet tall) would attack someone for having "Bicycle Face," though, perhaps I can imagine using the phrase as a schoolyard taunt.

Now, I don't mean to make light of a boy being bashed in the face with a bicycle.  No one should have to endure that, and it upsets me that something that can be such a force for good and a source of so much pleasure can be used to commit violence against another living being.  My heart goes out to that boy and his loved ones.

But, as a writer, I also abhor crimes against journalism and the English language.  A much more accurate--and, if I do say so myself, snappier--headline might've been: LI Man Slams Bike Against Boy's Face.