Bob Levey
Washington Post, November 21, 1991
Bike messengers have fouled the local landscape for so long that I've often wondered what they'll do for an encore. After all, some day they'll tire of knocking down old ladies, scaring the daylights out of innocent children and ignoring every traffic regulation in the book.
Now I have my answer, courtesy of Michael A. Schaffner, of Arlington.
Bike messengers have started to kill squirrels.
Michael watched it happen one recent Thursday in Lafayette Square, across the street from the White House, where he often goes at lunchtime to commune with nature and watch the passing show. On this day, the show passed aboard a bike, silently, at a high rate of speed. A messenger was riding, and as he rounded a tree, a squirrel was in his path.
"She was a young female, probably about two years old," Michael writes. "The front wheel crushed her chest. The cyclist slowed for a moment, then continued.
"I stood there in shock as this creature I had just fed thrashed on the ground a few feet away from me . . . . There was nothing I could do for her, but I didn't want to leave her alone, so I stayed and watched her die . . . .
" {Squirrels} have every right to be left in peace. So, for that matter, do those of us who like squirrels, or merely peace. In fact, I'd rather the cyclist had hit a person. The person would at least have lived to prosecute . . . .
"I really don't think any number of interoffice communications are worth the life of a single park squirrel."
I can't imagine how it could be said better. Thank you for caring, Michael. As for the messenger who ran down the squirrel and didn't even have the humanity to stop, you, pal, are as far beyond hope as the creature you destroyed.
Column: FREE FOR ALL
Washington Post, November 30, 1991
I am writing in response to Bob Levey's column "The Squirrel That Got Biked to Death" {Metro, Nov. 21} . I am the bicycle messenger who accidentally killed the squirrel in Lafayette Park. First, I would like to apologize to the squirrel and to Michael A. Schaffner for this unfortunate tragedy. I have never intentionally killed an animal, and to this day I feel guilty about what happened.
I was taking a shortcut through Lafayette Park on my way to 16th Street. Rounding a group of shrubs by the statue (I was riding on the bike path), I came upon Schaffner and the squirrel. Schaffner was crouched down, his arm outstretched in an effort to coax the squirrel closer to him. Both were on the brick path, and both were obscured by the shrubs. The instant I saw him I veered to the other side of the path. The squirrel, obviously frightened, bolted in front of me in an effort to escape. It was over in a second, and there was nothing I could do. I coasted a few yards, my eyes closed. I knew that I had run the squirrel over, and I knew that I had killed it. I stopped and looked back. The squirrel was writhing around on the pathway. It tried to stand up but fell over and stopped moving. Schaffner and I stood over there in shock staring at the squirrel. I knew the squirrel was dead, but I didn't know what to do. I got on my bike and left. I did not want to kill the squirrel, it was an unfortunate accident.
At this time, I would like to comment on the many "messenger-bashing" articles I have read in your paper. For the record: I have never hit a pedestrian, motor vehicle or fellow bicyclist since I have been a messenger, to say nothing of "knocking down old ladies, scaring the daylights out of innocent children" etc. I have, though, been harassed, verbally abused, threatened and run off the road by all types of automobiles, trucks, taxis and buses. The driving habits of people in downtown Washington are so atrocious that they rival those of New Yorkers. Between the marauding psychotic motorists and the bleary-eyed pedestrians who step into the street without looking, it is a miracle that more people aren't seriously injured or killed. Of the very few people I have seen hit by bicycles, all were able to get up and walk away. On the other hand, I've seen people open the doors of their cars on messengers, then drive away leaving the biker sprawled and bloody on the pavement. I've seen messengers with split skulls, broken arms and legs and worse.
Often I have pondered the hatred that is bestowed upon us day in and out by Washingtonians. This hatred usually manifests itself in myths like: Messengers are all drug addicts, sitting around Dupont Circle smoking crack and ripping off fax machines in broad daylight to support our "habits" (this is my favorite because I am positive the ratio of substance-abusing messengers to those who are not pales in comparison to that of office workers). I will be the first to admit that there are bikers among us who are less than ideal. The majority of messengers, however, are hard-working, intelligent, exotic, funny and fun-loving people.
In closing, I would like to point out that what people see as reckless riding is really the art of survival in these streets that became a jungle well before the idea of bicycle messengers was conceived.
-- D. Wayne Thomas
| main | articles | laws | zines | report | 10-9 day |
If you have comments or suggestions, email me at messvilleto@yahoo.com