At about 7:15 yesterday evening, Wife and I were walking down the sidewalk on our way out for a special evening (which she will write about later). She and I were chatting – everything was normal. Suddenly, Wife began to shriek while I heard a simultaneous loud “thud.” I looked around, figuring that there had just been a car accident, but directly in front of us was something much worse than a typical car accident: a speeding taxicab struck a careless bicyclist. Right in front of us was the bike rider sticking through the windshield of the taxi.
In less then five seconds, a street cop was on the scene. Seriously, he began handling the situation in less than five seconds. Within about forty-five seconds, two more police cars were on the scene. Wife complained vigorously about the response time of the paramedics and fire truck, because they took nearly five minutes to arrive.
The cyclist was “just a kid” (Wife’s description), who was no more than nineteen or twenty years old. He was listening to his iPod while he peddled, so he was oblivious to the sounds of the street around him.
I couldn’t piece together exactly what each party was doing to cause the accident, but it appeared to me that the speeding taxi made a reckless lane change to avoid a parked bus, while the cyclist was traveling the wrong direction on the street. With the bus blocking the view, neither one could see each other until they got into the intersection, when it was too late. From what I could piece together, both of them were at fault (probably the kid going the wrong way down the street bore a bit more blame).
As the kid was pulled out of the windshield, he immediately began apologizing to the taxi-driver. All he could do was mumble over and over, “I’m so sorry, I’m just so sorry,” as he looked at the smashed windshield of the cab and then down to his mangled bike. The kid was clearly in complete shock; he was not doing well at all (as would be expected after you fly face-first through a glass windshield). Wife’s immediate response was to look at me and say, “Go tell him that you’re a lawyer and he needs to sit down and be quiet.” No, I didn’t listen to Wife. Without having seen exactly what caused the accident, I don’t know who was really at fault (I can just speculate), but the kid looked half-conscious and really shouldn’t be taking full responsibility in that state.
As the paramedics began loading the kid into the ambulance, the poor guy was visibly panicked about what would happen to his bike. Kind-hearted Wife turned to me and suggested, “Go tell him that we will take his bike home for him.” I began to protest to Wife that 1) we have tickets to a show that would begin shortly; 2) we have absolutely no idea where this guy lives; 3) the bike was mangled to the point it would be very difficult to move; and 4) it was barely fifteen degrees outside. Wife’s response was simple, “But he needs help.” Fortunately, the paramedics were ready for the situation and began strapping the bike to the front of the ambulance.
So, the primary lesson here: be careful on the streets of
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