Dear Editor,
A couple of days ago, I was almost killed – on a crosswalk on a dry afternoon.
96th Avenue ends at a T-intersection at Glover Road in Fort 91Ô´´. On the north side of this three-way intersection is a crosswalk marked by white lines on Glover Road. There are also two unlit stick-people crosswalk signs on the sidewalks at either end.
So I’m about five feet into the crosswalk, walking west.
My head is on a swivel, as I watch each driver of the three stopped vehicles to make sure none of them are moving. I’m as nervous as a cat in a kennel full of dogs.
The cars going north and south on Glover Road are both stopped.
There’s a truck stopped at the stop sign on 96th.
I’m crossing.
Suddenly, the truck guns his motor and moves his vehicle into the intersection.
He’s a full-sized transport truck with a full load of construction lumber.
My eyes bug out. I can’t believe what they’re telling me.
The truck is bearing down on me as fast as he can. He’s about to smash into me with the middle of his front bumper. I break into a run – and barely manage to avoid getting hit.
I stop and stare at the driver going past, a couple of feet away from me.
His eyes are bugged out too. He’s also terrified, staring back at me.
He beetles his way out of Fort 91Ô´´.
This driver, who had been patiently waiting at his stop sign for the traffic on Glover to clear, saw an opening, a break in the traffic on Glover Road, and went for it. He didn’t even see me – a six-foot, overweight guy on a crosswalk in the middle of the day.
This particular intersection – at Glover and 96th – needs a stop sign going north on Glover and another one going south. Relying on some goofy crosswalk to stop traffic is a recipe for disaster.
With all the gangs of little children I see crossing that intersection – and the speed of the traffic on Glover – I’m expecting our first fatality there any day now. If I hadn’t been blessed with catlike reflexes, that person would have been me. And today, almost the same thing happened again.
Peter Kravchuke, Fort 91Ô´´