Ghost bikes memorialize life and death
U-T San Diego
Published: Jul, 20 2012
Ghost bikes are the roadside crosses of the cycling community, stark reminders that the road does not go on forever.
Graduate
student Sara Kazemi never fails to notice one in the College Area on
her commute to and from San Diego State University - whether she's
stopped at a red light or pedaling past.
It's a memorial to a man
killed on busy Montezuma Road three months ago. But in a deadly summer
for San Diego bicyclists, it speaks for other victims, too.
The
bike, wheels and all, is painted a ghostly white - hence the term - and
covered with dried flowers, beads and other tokens: an American flag, a
medal from the 2012 Alpine Challenge, a reflective leg band.
Mourners
left it there a day after bicyclist Charles Gilbreth, 63, was struck
from behind by an SUV and killed in April. The leg band on the bike is
Gilbreth's, recovered from the scene. The bike itself is a gift from
someone in the cycling community, someone who had never met him.
This
is how connected that chain of riders is: When the city planned to
remove the memorial this month, Kazemi and others rode to its defense.
And theirs was an entirely different group of riders than the members of
a campus cycling collective who installed the bike in the first place.
Forrest
Brodsky, a soon-to-be senior at SDSU and president of the collective
known as the Bike Stand, bought the paint for the ghost bike, which was
donated by a friend. Twelve students took turns painting it.
Brodsky calls it "a powerful statement." Is it ever.
From
a distance you might assume the bike, chained to a Montezuma Road
street sign across from Collwood Boulevard, had been abandoned. Up
close, by brush so overgrown Brodsky had to pull out handfuls of weeds
to make room for the ghost bike, you might get goose bumps.
About
two weeks ago, a city crew posted a notice of violation on the bike,
which was in the public right-of-way without a permit. A complaint had
been lodged by someone assuming that the bike had been cast aside. The
notice said the bike would be hauled away in 72 hours.
Kazemi was
the first person to arrive the morning of July 12 for a rally to protect
the bicycle. Why did she care so much? Two reasons, she said.
One, it would be disrespectful to disrupt someone's memorial. Two, everyone needs to remember to share the road.
"You
don't take flowers off the side of the street or candles that are lit
for someone that was hit by a car, so why touch that?" she said. "It's a
real good reminder to people who are both driving and biking to be
aware of their surroundings."
The bike's days are no longer
numbered. The rally literally ended before it began. Calls to
Councilwoman Marti Emerald's office found a sympathetic ear, and the
city scrapped its plans to remove the bike.
If only all of life's
issues could be solved so easily. Like the issue of bikes and cars
co-existing safely on San Diego streets.
This month alone, five
bicyclists have died in San Diego County, three because of vehicle
collisions. In memory of some of these riders, cyclists will gather at
the Balboa Park water fountain at 4:30 Wednesday afternoon. Their ride
will take them to City Hall, where participants will use chalk to trace
the outlines of their bodies on the ground to send a message that San
Diego streets should be safer. Kazemi and Brodsky plan to be there.
The day I talked to them, I stopped by Park Boulevard and University Avenue, where another ghost bike once stood.
Exactly
four years earlier to the day, cyclist Atip Ouypron died near there
when he ran a red light and was struck by a pickup. In 2008, in a nod to
protesters and Ouypron's family, which planned to leave the region,
city officials waited about a month to remove the ghost bike.
Unless
you knew Ouypron or his story, you'd never realize a bike had been
there. You could easily pass by and notice nothing unusual.
But
park your car or your bike and walk over to a certain stop sign, and
you'll see three tall votive candles, green leaves covered with wax and a
trio of rusted bike locks clasped around a metal pole.
You'll see that the cycle of life and death continues.
Print page
© Copyright 2012 The San Diego Union-Tribune, LLC. An MLIM LLC Company. All rights reserved.
Published: Jul, 20 2012
Ghost bikes are the roadside crosses of the cycling community, stark reminders that the road does not go on forever.
Graduate
student Sara Kazemi never fails to notice one in the College Area on
her commute to and from San Diego State University - whether she's
stopped at a red light or pedaling past.
It's a memorial to a man
killed on busy Montezuma Road three months ago. But in a deadly summer
for San Diego bicyclists, it speaks for other victims, too.
The
bike, wheels and all, is painted a ghostly white - hence the term - and
covered with dried flowers, beads and other tokens: an American flag, a
medal from the 2012 Alpine Challenge, a reflective leg band.
Mourners
left it there a day after bicyclist Charles Gilbreth, 63, was struck
from behind by an SUV and killed in April. The leg band on the bike is
Gilbreth's, recovered from the scene. The bike itself is a gift from
someone in the cycling community, someone who had never met him.
This
is how connected that chain of riders is: When the city planned to
remove the memorial this month, Kazemi and others rode to its defense.
And theirs was an entirely different group of riders than the members of
a campus cycling collective who installed the bike in the first place.
Forrest
Brodsky, a soon-to-be senior at SDSU and president of the collective
known as the Bike Stand, bought the paint for the ghost bike, which was
donated by a friend. Twelve students took turns painting it.
Brodsky calls it "a powerful statement." Is it ever.
From
a distance you might assume the bike, chained to a Montezuma Road
street sign across from Collwood Boulevard, had been abandoned. Up
close, by brush so overgrown Brodsky had to pull out handfuls of weeds
to make room for the ghost bike, you might get goose bumps.
About
two weeks ago, a city crew posted a notice of violation on the bike,
which was in the public right-of-way without a permit. A complaint had
been lodged by someone assuming that the bike had been cast aside. The
notice said the bike would be hauled away in 72 hours.
Kazemi was
the first person to arrive the morning of July 12 for a rally to protect
the bicycle. Why did she care so much? Two reasons, she said.
One, it would be disrespectful to disrupt someone's memorial. Two, everyone needs to remember to share the road.
"You
don't take flowers off the side of the street or candles that are lit
for someone that was hit by a car, so why touch that?" she said. "It's a
real good reminder to people who are both driving and biking to be
aware of their surroundings."
The bike's days are no longer
numbered. The rally literally ended before it began. Calls to
Councilwoman Marti Emerald's office found a sympathetic ear, and the
city scrapped its plans to remove the bike.
If only all of life's
issues could be solved so easily. Like the issue of bikes and cars
co-existing safely on San Diego streets.
This month alone, five
bicyclists have died in San Diego County, three because of vehicle
collisions. In memory of some of these riders, cyclists will gather at
the Balboa Park water fountain at 4:30 Wednesday afternoon. Their ride
will take them to City Hall, where participants will use chalk to trace
the outlines of their bodies on the ground to send a message that San
Diego streets should be safer. Kazemi and Brodsky plan to be there.
The day I talked to them, I stopped by Park Boulevard and University Avenue, where another ghost bike once stood.
Exactly
four years earlier to the day, cyclist Atip Ouypron died near there
when he ran a red light and was struck by a pickup. In 2008, in a nod to
protesters and Ouypron's family, which planned to leave the region,
city officials waited about a month to remove the ghost bike.
Unless
you knew Ouypron or his story, you'd never realize a bike had been
there. You could easily pass by and notice nothing unusual.
But
park your car or your bike and walk over to a certain stop sign, and
you'll see three tall votive candles, green leaves covered with wax and a
trio of rusted bike locks clasped around a metal pole.
You'll see that the cycle of life and death continues.
Print page
© Copyright 2012 The San Diego Union-Tribune, LLC. An MLIM LLC Company. All rights reserved.