A 32-year old lawyer was struck and killed while riding his bike to work today on the near North Side of Chicago.
The company he worked for is about a block away from the place where K was a baker for three years. Chances are pretty good that this guy came to her business for lunch or coffee. He might even have eaten some of her amazing pumpkin hazelnut cookies or zucchini cake with crunchy lemon glaze.
When I first read about the accident on the Tribune website, my stomach clenched. The story didn't identify the victim, not even whether it was a male or female. I checked the address and realized that it was unlikely that K would have been on her bike at that location at the time the accident occurred. Some of my fear and anxiety subsided. Later I read an update that stated the victim was male. In addition to his name, the article also gave his work address. It was then that I realized how this man's life had most likely intersected with my daughter's.
I try to not worry about all the dangers that could befall K as she lives in Chicago, but it's not easy. One of the things I worry about the most is the potential for injury (or worse) when K is riding her bike all over the city. I know she is very careful and takes great pains to choose the most bike-friendly routes possible, but accidents happen and clueless drivers are everywhere.
The man that was killed today also rode on what he felt were the safest streets. He wore a helmet and rode defensively. But it wasn't enough. Some idiot, parked along the curb, opened their car door into traffic without looking to see if a biker was approaching from behind. In an attempt to avoid being "doored" the cyclist swerved to keep from hitting the car door. He missed the parked car, but unfortunately wasn't able to avoid being struck by a semi that was traveling in the same lane with him. I can only pray that he died instantly.
A little more than two years ago, K was struck by a car while she was riding her bike to a college graduation party being held in her honor. She flew over the handlebars of her bike and hit her helmeted head as she landed in the middle of the street. Fortunately, neither the car that hit her, nor the CTA bus (that the car's driver sped up in order to avoid being stuck behind), ran over her as she lay in the street. The accident occurred just outside the party house and her friends rushed out to see if she was okay and took care of her while they waited for the police to arrive.
K was incredibly lucky that day; we've told her that her guardian angel must have been working overtime. We can even joke about the incident because she was spared serious injury -- there is no bare-bones bicycle spray-painted white to mark the site of her accident. But within a few days, the friends or coworkers of the man who died today will erect a ghostly white memorial, perhaps even using the mangled frame of the bike he was riding today, as a silent reminder of a life that was ended by ignorance and an attitude that put self first, above the interests and safety of others, especially those who are defenseless or in a more vulnerable position.
Eventually my stomach relaxed today, but somewhere a mother, grandmother, aunt, girlfriend, father, brother, cousin, roommate, or lifelong friend is dealing with the pain and shock of sudden, inexplicable loss. I feel guilty when I say that I'm glad I can only imagine how they feel.
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