On October 2, 2010 I headed out on one of my regular rides, which usually last two hours and 30 miles. I started out from where I live in Astoria, NY and was planning to ride to a favorite bike shop in Great Neck, NY then ride home as I've done literally hundreds of times.
Just a mile or two after starting out, at 4:15pm, in the crosswalk over the service road leading from the Grand Central Parkway up to Astoria Boulevard at 78th Street, after waiting for the light, I crossed two lanes out of three before a car hit me from the left side.
My first reaction was to get up and get out of the street, but when I stood up I felt a strong pain and looked down to see that my left knee was badly bruised, and also saw that my bicycle wheels had twisted and snapped. So I went from reprimanding the driver to immediately sitting down on the street in front of the car which had just backed off me--behind the line that she should have stopped at apparently in an effort to make it look like it wasn't her fault. I was determined that this driver wasn't going anywhere until the police arrived.
I called 911. A witness came over and talked me through the shock--can't thank him enough. The police came along with an FDNY ambulance. I told the officer that I had the light and was hit in the crosswalk. I verified this three or four times. When the light turned to the walk signal I said, "Just like this. I was crossing, with the light in my favor as it is now, and the car hit me right here in the crosswalk where I'm sitting."
I was so shaken up that I actually had to call my wife and ask her to verify our home address where we have lived for the past four years, completely forgetting that I ALWAYS carry my Driver's License and health insurance cards on every ride for this specific reason. All I had to do was hand him my ID, but I was in a kind of stupid shock.
Once I was in the ambulance, I was asked if I have a lock for my bike and nearly didn't go to the hospital for fear of losing the bike. I told the police officer that I even if I had a lock, my road bike (a Trek Discovery bike) would be gone in five minutes if we left it there. The police officer--from the 114th Precinct in Queens--volunteered to bring my bike to my home where my wife was waiting, to just leave it behind the house. In reality, he actually went to the front door and told my wife, who was worried sick, "He's OK."
The police took down the driver's insurance information and statement and assured me that I didn't have to worry about it--and indeed I didn't.
The driver's story was that she could not see the traffic light because of the glare from the Sun. I joked, "But she could feel the accelerator." Obviously nobody bought the 'Blame It On The Sun' defense.
I was taken to the Emergency Room at Elmhurst Hospital, where they x-rayed my knee, said it appeared 'normal' and released me with a pair of crutches. In my mind, I thought I would recover in a few months and was only concerned about having my bicycle replaced.
I had no idea that this event was about to cause me to possibly lose my job for lack of ability to perform, have multiple surgeries--rebuilding both knees and my ankle--and go through all sorts of red tape to make sure I was compensated at all.
Just a mile or two after starting out, at 4:15pm, in the crosswalk over the service road leading from the Grand Central Parkway up to Astoria Boulevard at 78th Street, after waiting for the light, I crossed two lanes out of three before a car hit me from the left side.
My first reaction was to get up and get out of the street, but when I stood up I felt a strong pain and looked down to see that my left knee was badly bruised, and also saw that my bicycle wheels had twisted and snapped. So I went from reprimanding the driver to immediately sitting down on the street in front of the car which had just backed off me--behind the line that she should have stopped at apparently in an effort to make it look like it wasn't her fault. I was determined that this driver wasn't going anywhere until the police arrived.
I called 911. A witness came over and talked me through the shock--can't thank him enough. The police came along with an FDNY ambulance. I told the officer that I had the light and was hit in the crosswalk. I verified this three or four times. When the light turned to the walk signal I said, "Just like this. I was crossing, with the light in my favor as it is now, and the car hit me right here in the crosswalk where I'm sitting."
I was so shaken up that I actually had to call my wife and ask her to verify our home address where we have lived for the past four years, completely forgetting that I ALWAYS carry my Driver's License and health insurance cards on every ride for this specific reason. All I had to do was hand him my ID, but I was in a kind of stupid shock.
Once I was in the ambulance, I was asked if I have a lock for my bike and nearly didn't go to the hospital for fear of losing the bike. I told the police officer that I even if I had a lock, my road bike (a Trek Discovery bike) would be gone in five minutes if we left it there. The police officer--from the 114th Precinct in Queens--volunteered to bring my bike to my home where my wife was waiting, to just leave it behind the house. In reality, he actually went to the front door and told my wife, who was worried sick, "He's OK."
The police took down the driver's insurance information and statement and assured me that I didn't have to worry about it--and indeed I didn't.
The driver's story was that she could not see the traffic light because of the glare from the Sun. I joked, "But she could feel the accelerator." Obviously nobody bought the 'Blame It On The Sun' defense.
I was taken to the Emergency Room at Elmhurst Hospital, where they x-rayed my knee, said it appeared 'normal' and released me with a pair of crutches. In my mind, I thought I would recover in a few months and was only concerned about having my bicycle replaced.
I had no idea that this event was about to cause me to possibly lose my job for lack of ability to perform, have multiple surgeries--rebuilding both knees and my ankle--and go through all sorts of red tape to make sure I was compensated at all.
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