Have you ever ever heard somebody slam a automobile door actually onerous? 4 years in the past, as I used to be using my bicycle, that was the sound I heard as a driver attempting to enter a parking zone crossed two lanes and didn’t yield to me as I rode within the bike lane.

With a loud slam, the automobile hit the left aspect of my physique.

The accident occurred at round 4 p.m. on Thursday, March 18, 2021 (what I name “A Very Dangerous Day”). I used to be heading towards the Senator Ted Hickey Bridge on Lakeshore Drive, which has “sharrows”–bike lanes shared with vehicles.  

I had hoped to get in a fast exercise earlier than I headed to Mid-Metropolis to select up my farm share. Nothing thrilling, only a common journey, like I had performed many occasions. I didn’t know that that day was going to alter my life so drastically.

The influence of the automobile on my physique broke two bones, the  tibia in my decrease left leg and the humerus in my left higher arm, leaving me wheelchair certain for about three months. I’m not exaggerating after I let you know I cried nearly day by day throughout these three months. After surgical procedure on my tibia, hours of bodily remedy, and a PTSD prognosis, I used to be again on the bike in August, with a newfound concern of … properly, every thing.

Previous to my crash, security was one thing that I had taken as a right. I had used my bike to commute, race, meet up with buddies, and simply get round city. I gained numerous expertise using bikes in New York Metropolis and felt like a reasonably competent bicycle owner after I moved to New Orleans in 2016. I felt protected understanding my very own skill-set and skill to navigate bushy conditions. I wore a helmet, carried lights with me in all places I went, and cautiously adopted the foundations of the street to the very best requirements.

However this was totally different. My crash prompted me to redefine what it meant to be protected. ‘

I’m considerably extra invested within the security of ALL street customers, whether or not they’re strolling, biking, in vehicles, or taking public transit. All of us deserve to maneuver round this metropolis safely, with out concern of a automobile driving immediately into them. The shortage of protected street infrastructure is a human-made downside. In case you construct a street by a home, you possibly can’t get mad on the home when a automobile crashes into it. You constructed that street; You set it as much as fail. 

At the same time as I write this visitor column in a espresso store, I’m suppressing the tears in my eyes. As a result of I can nonetheless hear the loud thud of my physique being hit by a automobile, I can nonetheless really feel the ache in my leg, I can nonetheless really feel the disappointment. 

Much more sadly, I’m not alone. As a latest New Orleans Advocate article famous, 2025 is already turning into one other perilous 12 months for our group with too many tales of crashes, accidents and fatalities. Beforehand, between 2019 and 2023, automobile crashes killed practically 300 folks and injured one other 47,000, in response to metropolis knowledge. I’m heartened by town’s efforts to handle this situation, which embody the upcoming Security and Mobility Summit on Saturday.

And whereas I nonetheless really feel the disappointment, I additionally nonetheless journey my bike – proudly, fortunately, and albeit in another way. I’m additionally a proud member and present president of the Bike Simple Board of Administrators. It’s in that spirit that I ask that you simply be a part of us first on the Summit on Saturday, after which on Sunday, at Bike Simple’s second annual Trip to Keep in mind at Metairie Cemeteries (see beneath for extra particulars). 

I take into account myself a fortunate one as a result of, had A Very Dangerous Day gone a bit in another way, I wouldn’t be right here to maneuver this work ahead.

Elyse Bejasa is president of the board of administrators for Bike Simple, which works to make bicycling simple, protected, and enjoyable for everybody in Higher New Orleans.

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