My biggest concern when I'm riding my bike around town is getting hit by a car. In fact, I've taken to riding on the sidewalk out of fear, and most people in this town accept it, knowing there are no bike lanes.
Wouldn't you know it - today as I entered the cross walk on my bike, it happened. My second biggest fear. It was an accident, but it wasn't me who got hit. It was the sweet woman who stopped her car in accordance with the California vehicle code that requires all cars give the right of way to a pedestrian. That would be me. The pedestrian.
While I didn't get hurt, I had the trauma of seeing it all up close. I saw the car that hit hers speeding along and knew it would not stop. In fact, it didn't stop until it kissed her backside. The poor woman who got rear-ended is 72 years old, and when the nurses from the nearby convalescent home came running out to ask her if she was alright, she couldn't answer. When she told them her age, it was enough for them to call the paramedics.
So I stuck around, gave both parties my name and number, gave my information to the police, talked back to an uppity fireman, and make a quick pit stop in the bank. Then it was back to life as normal. But not really. It haunts you to see two people hurt like that. The sweet lady in the car that stopped, and the devastated woman in the car that didn't. Makes me to grateful to the One Above to be alive.