http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2015/apr/03/ghost-bikes-jessie-gray-singer-cycling-deaths
Louis CK and Jerry Seinfeld are in an orange Fiat Jolly, starring in an episode of Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee. They’re on the West Side Highway in New York City driving a tiny antique car with rattan seats and no doors, talking about whether they would survive a crash.
“If we got hit by an SUV, we would just be smears,” CK says. “We would be pink and red smears with teeth stuck in it.”
At Clarkson Street, they pass a white-painted bicycle. It is a memorial for Eric Ng; a drunk driver killed the 22-year-old math teacher in 2006.
“That’s a person that died on a bike? Aw jeez,” CK says.
“I know. Must we all get bummed, every day, back and forth to work? It sometimes doesn’t work out,” Seinfeld says.
I could have been upset, but I felt proud: at the very least, Seinfeld knew what a ghost bike was.
On 19 April , hundreds of cyclists will lay flowers on New York’s newest ghost bikes. In the past decade, people have chained 148 of them to street signs and lampposts in New York City, and more than 800 ghost bikes have cropped up in cities worldwide.
It’s been a decade since I helped strip down, sandpaper and paint the first ghost bike in New York City. Then, I had no idea it was the start of a movement. If you asked me, I would have insisted that I would only ever make just one.
On 9 June 2005, a 28-year-old lawyer named Liz Padilla was killed on her bicycle in Park Slope, Brooklyn. Kevin Caplicki was riding his bike when he came upon her body.
Back then, Kevin and I made street art together in a small collective called Visual Resistance. This project, building a ghost bike, would be different.
We laid an old bicycle prostrate on a tarp. We donned our masks and shook loose the agitators in our cans of spray paint.
Here’s how you make a ghost bike: strip the cables off first. Remove every complex part; no derailleurs, brakes or reflectors. Sand down the rust, stickers and bits of city that cling to the frame. Then, lay a coat of primer and two coats of matte white spray paint. Meticulously whiten the spokes of each wheel.
I did not know the woman; not her favorite restaurant or whether she was bound for the laundromat or the library on the day a truck driver killed her. But in spray-painting those spokes, I mourned her sudden death. It was the first time I cried over a stranger, and being an atheist, it felt like an act of faith.
When we locked the bike to a street sign, the effect was immediate. People stopped to stare. The white bike popped against the colorful mess of the street. Suddenly, Padilla was neither stranger nor statistic, but a resident of the neighborhood.
Days later, on 22 June 2005, a truck driver killed 25-year-old Andrew Morgan as he biked down Houston Street in Manhattan. Again, we built a ghost bike.
Recently, I heard about a ghost bike in Hong Kong. When my parents retired to southern Florida, they called to say they spotted a ghost bike on the highway there. Ghost bikes have been installed in Quito, Cluj-Napoca, Lyon and more than 200 other cities worldwide.
Since Padilla’s death, New York has changed dramatically. The bike share program Citi Bike has hosted 16m rides. Activists have pushed the city to install over 400m of bicycle lanes. Hundreds of thousands of New Yorkers ride a bike to work. Mayor Bill de Blasio’s Vision Zero initiative is in full-swing, and pedestrian deaths are at an all-time low.
But more cyclists were killed in 2014 than were killed in 2013; nearly the same number killed 10 years ago. Last week, in the backyard of the Greenpoint Reformed Church in Brooklyn, I helped strip and paint another 12 ghost bikes.
For every old bicycle I’ve covered in white paint, I’ve begged to never make another. There are days when this feels like the worst project in the world. Then, there are days when a mourning parent, child or partner says, “Thank you. This helped.”
There may never be a year of zero ghost bikes. But that’s not the point. The point is to be nothing like Seinfeld in his silly car, shirking reality. Ghost bikes do the hard work of looking tragedy in the eye and saying, “I’m so sorry".