A moment for Nathan Crowson

 

I waited at the Ghost Bike memorial for the Critical Mass cyclists riding in honor of Nathan Crowson, killed by a drunk driver while cycling on January 21, and his riding partner, Danny Morris, recovering with severe injuries in the hospital.  353 cyclists took to the streets from LSU's Clock Tower to ride than night.  Before their arrival I was alone at the memorial watching the cars speed by.  There was a different feel than during my visit earlier in the day keeping in mind that the accident did occur at night, feeling the speed of the cars more as their lights zoomed by.     

Slowly people arrived.  First the local media, then some college students, and a few older women who ended up being family.  A young couple tightly held each other after placing something in the collection of flowers and notes covering the 'ghost bike'.  As a group of blinking lights in the distance approached the site, we all stopped and watched.  The first in the group rode by ringing their bells, then some started to stop or walk their bikes up onto the wet and muddy grass.  They talked quietly, some placed items by the bike, while others walked by thoughtfully towards an area behind us where they'd all meet before moving on.  The cars on the busy road had to move into the middle lane in order to pass by, and while a few seemed supportive there were obnoxious shouts from open windows, too.  I felt the emotional weight of it all as I stood near the bike taking pictures and watching all pass by.

Towards the end of the pack of riders,  there was one cyclist that stood in front of the bike for more than a moment of silence and reflection.  In the midst of it all, the lights, the media, the cars, the people,  he stood.  From the other side of the bike I took a deep breath in and felt like he stopped time.  The hurt of Nathan's death, to his family, friends, and the community, was with us, and we were all looking to heal, needing to heal.  There were no sides to this, it was something affecting all of us.  

 

As the group of cyclists decided to move from their corner meeting point just beyond the ghost bike to another location, one rider went into the road to make sure all was clear.  It was, he called them out, and the pack started to move.  That's when the few of us who lingered behind heard the speeding cars coming down the road.  We turned in a flash and saw two cars racing right towards the group.  The scream couldn't come out of my mouth as others motioned and waved for them to stop.  I saw another tragedy happening, and by some crazy miracle the cars swerved away and slowed down.  Not all saw from our perspective, but I had to step back to the bike, lean on the pole with the red painted flowers, and weep silently over the avoided terror.  It really was too much, too close, as if the city and those gathered needed another reminder about the risks of riding on roads with dangerous drivers.  The photo of the women holding each other in the set below captures the minutes after the scare.

Somewhere in the mix of this experience with just a few of us left behind, I met Nathan's friend who had painted the heart and stenciled art on the road.  I didn't ask if she had done the flowers on the pole, too, but when she saw that I was genuinely interested, she let me know that she created the stencils from Nathan's art as something meaningful for his friends.  I let her know that I was touched by them too when I first saw them earlier that day without even knowing their background story.  Now when I look they say something more about Nathan's presence in their lives.

So where do I leave this?  With continued thoughts for Nathan's family, friends and daughter.  With our community affected by the tragedy.  With Nathan's friend that rode with him that night as he continues to recover from severe injuries.  With the driver of that car and his family.  It's been suggested that we put more energy into improving the safety infrastructure for pedestrians and cyclists than anger towards the drunk driver.  It's a very challenging thing to do, but it will move us out of the tragic time of Nathan's death and loss and into moments for Nathan and our community where we'll work together for change.

His bike was red

Nathan Crowson was hit and killed by a drunk driver while riding his bike on Perkins Road in Baton Rouge at 8:45 PM on January 21, 2012. He died instantly, and Danny Morris, the friend he rode with, was in an induced coma in critical condition as of this afternoon.  Nathan was an experienced cyclist and commuted to work on bike for years.  He was known as a friend, good father, and talented artist.

I visited his Ghost Bike memorial set up at the location where he died.  There's a white bike covered in mementos, flowers, notes.  Spray-painted red flowers on the base of nearby poles.  A stenciled heart in the road near the bike.  A little stuffed animal sits behind the large votive candle, and a note his 5 year old daughter wrote laid on the ground near the front wheel.  The little girl attends my Unitarian church, and that was my initial connection to this accident after learning about it through a Facebook post on my church's page.  Then it unraveled so much more in me that I felt compelled to visit, to photograph, and share the story with others.

When I first moved to Baton Rouge 7 years ago with my husband and then 2 year old daughter, I met a woman and her also two year old at a local children's activity.  We became friends, and one day she shared with me the horrible story of losing her husband in a cycling accident on a River Road, an area known for cyclist training sessions.  A driver drove into the team and killed him and a teen rider.  Their son was born soon after and named after the father.  It's a heartbreaking story, and that feeling returned once I learned about Nathan and the daughter he leaves behind.

Her story, Nathan's, Danny's along with the thousands of cyclists in Baton Rouge who struggle everyday to ride safely, need to be shared and talked about to move ourselves and the city to action to improve the roads for pedestrians and riders.  We're designed to transport cars, and that's about it.  Drivers brains are wired to rule the road and get to where they have to go, not share the road with others who choose a different means of getting around.  It's very frustrating, to say the least, to be living in a city, the capital city no less, where such a physical and mental structure exists.

You find hope though when you meet someone like Matt Love.  He came out from a nearby office while I was visiting the memorial.  He asked what I was doing, and I told him that I wanted to blog about what happened in hopes that people will learn and want to improve the city's conditions for cyclists.  It ends up that he was a cyclist himself, and we talked a bit about the accident and city's situation.  We shared similar concerns, but his from the experience as a cyclist.  I found out that he actually rides quite a distance everyday to work, and that he's found a way to avoid busy roads.  It ends up that he crosses the farm property that I visit nearly everyday, and while that's something I smiled about, that's also what has to change for cyclists like Matt.

I also learned about a few advocacy organizations from him. http://ghostbikes.org/, BRASS - Baton Rouge Advocates for Safer Streets and The Baton Rouge Bike Club, as well as an informational letter written by the bike club's president, Tom Clement.  I'll definitely visit the sites, and I recommend a read of his well written letter here.  You'll be floored by our city's statistics when it comes to safety for cyclists, and hopefully moved to get involved and become proactive in moving progress along.  

Thank you, Matt Love, for stepping out there to speak with me and spend a bit of time.  I really appreciate it.

And Nathan's bike.  It was red.  Something that seems so trivial in light of the tragedy, but I learned about it while checking out the Critical Mass bike ride info tonight (which I will write about, too).  For some reason I found his bike color and the photo of the red flowers stencil resonated with me the most.  Maybe it's just that something in me knowing him a bit more and wanting to do something to help.