Bob Levey
Washington Post, November 21, 1991
Bike messengers have fouled the local landscape for so long that I'veoften wondered what they'll do for an encore. After all, some day they'lltire of knocking down old ladies, scaring the daylights out of innocentchildren 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, acrossthe street from the White House, where he often goes at lunchtime to communewith nature and watch the passing show. On this day, the show passed aboarda bike, silently, at a high rate of speed. A messenger was riding, andas he rounded a tree, a squirrel was in his path.
"She was a young female, probably about two years old," Michaelwrites. "The front wheel crushed her chest. The cyclist slowed fora moment, then continued.
"I stood there in shock as this creature I had just fed thrashedon the ground a few feet away from me . . . . There was nothing I coulddo for her, but I didn't want to leave her alone, so I stayed and watchedher die . . . .
" {Squirrels} have every right to be left in peace. So, for thatmatter, do those of us who like squirrels, or merely peace. In fact, I'drather the cyclist had hit a person. The person would at least have livedto prosecute . . . .
"I really don't think any number of interoffice communicationsare 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 thehumanity to stop, you, pal, are as far beyond hope as the creature youdestroyed.
Column: FREE FOR ALL
Washington Post, November 30, 1991
I am writing in response to Bob Levey's column "The Squirrel ThatGot Biked to Death" {Metro, Nov. 21} . I am the bicycle messengerwho accidentally killed the squirrel in Lafayette Park. First, I wouldlike to apologize to the squirrel and to Michael A. Schaffner for thisunfortunate tragedy. I have never intentionally killed an animal, and tothis 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, hisarm outstretched in an effort to coax the squirrel closer to him. Bothwere on the brick path, and both were obscured by the shrubs. The instantI saw him I veered to the other side of the path. The squirrel, obviouslyfrightened, bolted in front of me in an effort to escape. It was over ina second, and there was nothing I could do. I coasted a few yards, my eyesclosed. I knew that I had run the squirrel over, and I knew that I hadkilled it. I stopped and looked back. The squirrel was writhing aroundon 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 knewthe squirrel was dead, but I didn't know what to do. I got on my bike andleft. 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 apedestrian, motor vehicle or fellow bicyclist since I have been a messenger,to say nothing of "knocking down old ladies, scaring the daylightsout of innocent children" etc. I have, though, been harassed, verballyabused, threatened and run off the road by all types of automobiles, trucks,taxis and buses. The driving habits of people in downtown Washington areso atrocious that they rival those of New Yorkers. Between the maraudingpsychotic motorists and the bleary-eyed pedestrians who step into the streetwithout looking, it is a miracle that more people aren't seriously injuredor killed. Of the very few people I have seen hit by bicycles, all wereable to get up and walk away. On the other hand, I've seen people openthe doors of their cars on messengers, then drive away leaving the bikersprawled 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 andout by Washingtonians. This hatred usually manifests itself in myths like:Messengers are all drug addicts, sitting around Dupont Circle smoking crackand ripping off fax machines in broad daylight to support our "habits"(this is my favorite because I am positive the ratio of substance-abusingmessengers 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 lessthan 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 recklessriding is really the art of survival in these streets that became a junglewell before the idea of bicycle messengers was conceived.
-- D. Wayne Thomas
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