an open letter to motorists

and to miscarriages of justice

To the lady who got pissed at me for “touching her car” to get her attention while I was on my bike during Bike Anywhere Day,

This is why I told you to get off your phone.

February 22, 2023

Your Honor,

My name is Auxie Ekster and I’m writing to express the impact that the death of Matt Keenan had on me and my community.

I knew Matt from a Meetup group called Urban Bike and Social Club. He was funny, easygoing, patient and trustworthy. He was a pleasure to spend time with and a responsible cyclist on the road. Unfortunately, the pandemic had scuttled many social rides, but he was someone who I hoped to reconnect with once it felt safe to socialize again. I was greatly sadden to learn that he had passed away—then angry that his death occurred while doing something that we both loved.

While the impact to his family will be greatest—they will be the ones with the empty seat at the dinner table, the missing voice at the holiday gatherings, the aching lack of a person who should be here but isn't—to a fellow cyclist like me, his loss communicates how careless we have become as a society about the potential repercussions of our actions.

As a cyclist, when I get on my bike, I always have to steel myself: will I die today? The roads in San Diego are poorly maintained and the drivers distracted and forgetful of the damage vehicles can do in accidents, even to their passengers (seat belt laws aren't meddlesome government intervention but a response to a crisis of mortality).

Every time I put my foot on the pedal and push off on that ride I accept that today might be the day that I die. Despite only wanting to take my time to get somewhere, to be focused in my commute, to enjoy and learn about my community, to live a little lighter on this earth, it only takes one person driving in any of the tens to hundreds of cars that might pass me on a trip to end my life.

Matt knew this as every cyclist does. We know the risks. Every bike ride, though, is a demonstration of trust in other people and society. Cyclists know that should things go wrong on the roads, that they will lose. We are hopeful that drivers—members of our shared community—will do the right thing: pay attention.

On September 21, 2021, Matt Keenan's trust in others proved to be unfounded. A driver did not do the right thing: pay attention. Another cyclist was killed.

As a cyclist who wants to be able to ride, I am tired of this trope. I am tired that drivers (and I am one, too) can end someone's life through carelessness and have their freedom. It's not a crazy idea to trust people—indeed, it's the power of our species—but trust is fortified by consequences for wrong-doing; that is, justice.

In the eyes of the law, a cyclist is the same as a motorist, but in the actuarial tables of mortality, the equivalence does not hold up. Cars kill more people than guns, each year. Unlike gun deaths, very few of those automobile deaths are intentional. Driver inattention is a leading cause of traffic accidents and mortality.

If I, as a cyclist, think about my death before every ride, what should a motorist think about? How should they approach the drive and the two-ton machine that can kill so easily? How do we as a society ask them to be good, trustworthy members, attentive to the potential destruction they wield with an internal combustion engine?

Your Honor, there should be serious consequences for ending someone's life, especially due to negligence. Matt will not ever be able to hold his son, kiss his wife, or laugh over a beer with a friend. All of this because of one person's inattention or lapse of judgment about how to operate heavy machinery. No other cyclist's family should go through this. I ask you to help fortify cyclists' trust in our society by using your discretion to add additional penalties. I trust that you will understand the importance of justice in supporting a civil and caring society.

Sincerely,

Auxie Ekster

On March 20, 2023, the driver who killed Matt Keenan pleaded guilty to misdemeanor vehicular manslaughter with gross negligence. The judge presiding over the case sentenced her to four days in jail, one year probation, 150 hours of community service, and suspended her license for three years. The reasoning was that “she did not deserve a punishment that would wreck her life.”