“Be like a postage stamp — stick to one thing until you get there.” — Josh Billings

Driving a car is an important job and demands attention.

It’s not a time for eating lunch, fumbling with the radio, or checking who’s liked your last FB post. You’re at the controls of a 4,000 pound rolling machine that, when operated correctly, is a wonderful convenience.

But when the operator is distracted, the convenience turns into a weapon – that kills.

No one will ever know exactly what happened on that beautiful Saturday in April. Was the cyclist not aware? Was the mind of the motorist someplace else?

We do know that the 2.88 mile route around Queens University is a favorite for cyclists. We know that some parts of the “Booty Loop” have lanes marked for bikes and some do not, yet we also know that the people in the area share the road with their neighbors – most of the time.

And we know, on that morning about eleven, a cyclist was struck and killed by a car; at the South Charlotte intersection of Selwyn and Bucknell. She was pronounced dead on the scene.

Nothing will bring back the cyclist or ease the suffering for the motorist. My prayers are with the family of the dead mother of three. And they’re also for the 69 year old motorist who will carry that moment in her heart forever.

I’ve ridden that busy loop, both on my bike and in my car. There never seems to be enough room for everyone, yet I think we’re all entitled to share public space. No matter our choice: a car, a bike, even on foot – we all need to be safe.

The weather was just as perfect on a Wednesday five years ago as I headed home from my ride on the Booty. I’d done over an hour, yet was feeling strong and ready for more until suddenly, a black TJ Wrangler, with its soft-top removed, pulled out in front of me – then, for no reason, slammed on it’s breaks.

Why on earth was he stopping so quickly and directly in my path?

Even with every ounce of pressure I could muster on both brakes, the Jeep continued to grow larger in my eyes until finally both my bike and I slammed into his rear-mounted spare. We sailed over the vehicle, me doing a few flips like an old Raggedy Andy doll, while my bike went off on its own.

Three days in the ICU and able to smile for a selfie. The chart by my bed said, “Acute subdural hematoma with the C5 cervical vertebra fractured.” Plus a severe case of road rash – everywhere.

Then, in what seemed like forever, I bounced off the front fender and landed on my head, smack in the middle of the oncoming lane. I was lucky that day in October to end up with only a broken neck and brain bleed.

My helmet saved my life on October 9, 2013. If you’re a cyclist, you know it’s the one piece of equipment you never want to save money on (or leave home without).

Today, my body has mostly healed, but the memories remain. I think about that day every time I drive by the scene and wonder about the man who was at the wheel.

Does he remember the ninth of October in vivid detail, as I do? Did the accident change him the way it did me?

We look for answers when these things happen. Would protected bike lanes solve the problem? Or do you think the answer is to outlaw bikes altogether, as some suggest?

It’s not an easy issue to solve. Perhaps Jose Billings give us a clue at the close of the 19th century when he said we should, “Be like a postage stamp…” and stick to one thing until done; like giving our complete attention to the job of controlling our 4,000 pound convenience or following the rules on our bike.

That way the cars and the bikes all get along and we get where we’re going – alive.

What answers do you have for “Sharing the Road?”

If you’re a motorist, how do you resist the urge to look at your phone each time it rings? And if you’re on a bike, why do you roll through the stop or dart between lanes as if the laws don’t apply to you?

Is belligerent behavior, on each side, part of our problem?

As always the conversation starts here.

“In the ordinary choices of every day we begin to change the direction of our lives.” – Eknath Easwaran