It was just after 8:00 a.m. My daughter Bucky was with me; I would drop her off at her p/t job on my way to work. The stop light down the street was jammed with cops. As I slowly drove thru the mess, I saw the mangled 10-speed and the biker helmet lying on the asphalt . . . . and I saw the big pool of dark red blood. Bucky saw it too.
The victim was gone, the ambulance had already taken him/her to the hospital. We were horrified at the sight, and deeply concerned - this tragedy happened midway between the high school and the junior high at the peak of the schoolday rush hour.
About 8 blocks down the road I saw a cell phone lying in the road. I slammed the brakes and picked it up. It was in good shape, with a man's name and work phone number scratched on the back, so I had Bucky call and leave the message: "we found your phone, you could stop by at Hasting's and pick it up, etc." We drove on, still thinking about the accident scene.
I wondered about the injured biker throughout the day, hoping he/she would somehow be OK. That evening I got the lowdown from the neighbors: the biker, a local father of five, had died from massive head trauma. He had been going quite fast and had hit/been hit by a car driven by a newly liscensed, 16-year old high-school kid.
I was deeply saddened. Tho I did not know this man, his children and mine are schoolmates; I cannot imagine their grief. I felt sad also for the driver. Although he was possibly not at fault, he must be very traumatized.
Last evening I asked Bucky if the lost phone had been returned. No, no one had come to claim it. Then it clicked. This phone belonged to the dead biker. A name check confirmed it. Bucky searched out the home address. When she drove there the house was crowded with cars and many somber people. She told the tale of the lost phone to one of the mourners. The man confirmed it's ownership and returned the phone to the biker's widow.
The cell phone must have fallen from the bikers pocket, then from the ambulance after going 8 blocks from the accident scene.
end of story.
