Instead of screaming into the void of Twitter, I bring you a weekly highlight reel of what it’s like going places in Greater Hartford when one is gloriously car-free. These posts are on a slight time delay because nobody needs to know exactly where I am when I am there.

THE BRIS
One of the highlights of the last year has been the addition of Seinfeld to Netflix. Sure, there’s so much about the show (besides hair and wardrobe) that feels dated, but then there are moments that still hold up. 

I had compiled information about the latest pedestrian death in Connecticut – the one on Franklin Avenue – and pinned it to the map. So little is ever shared through the news about these fatal collisions. My mind is pinballing between the sadness over another preventable death, the frustration with how most news outlets do nothing more than parrot the police, wanting to make it safer for people to do the most basic thing there is – walk (or roll) to school, work, the corner store – and then, and then there is this other thing that comes up like bile. I don’t see this every time a pedestrian is killed, but it happens too much. 

In “The Bris” (Season 5, Episode 5) episode of Seinfeld, the group is in the hospital to visit friends who have given birth. George Costanza is standing by a window, marveling at and boasting about how he found the best parking spot ever; he’s entirely ignoring the baby and new parents. Meanwhile, a hospital patient escapes the psychiatric ward, gets up to the roof, and throws himself off, landing on Costanza’s car. As uninterested as he was in the newborn, George is even less interested in the details of what just transpired except for the part that involves him and his wallet. To George, the only tragedy here is that his car is essentially totaled. In case you missed it, George is not the hero of this story. 

It was by luck that I re-watched this episode not long after reading a callous comment posted online following the needless death of a Hartford resident. The remark was tacky, off-topic, and showed no value for human life, describing pedestrians as impolite in our use of the road. 

Imagine this being where your mind goes following a tragedy: clutching your pearls over manners.

If civility is your jam, then perhaps start with how you think about others.

Are you concerned about loss? The pedestrian is gone. Done. This is not a soap opera where we find out the character did not really die and is living her best life in Tahiti. She’s gone. Are you concerned about what this means for those who knew her personally?

Are you motivated to effectively prevent future injuries and deaths?

Or are you George Costanza, fixated only on how you might be inconvenienced?

THE FIRST REAL SNOW
As luck would have it, my workplace has gone semi-remote again, so I did not have to wake up at the crack of dawn to shovel and then leave home extra early so I could literally stumble my way in this morning. I heard the plow truck go down my one-way street three times before 9 AM. It went through at least three more times later in the morning.

Why do we need three lanes cleared on a one-way street? I ask this every year. One lane for parking, one lane for driving. That should be enough. It makes me wonder how many other streets are over-cleared while the sidewalks go untouched.

Snow is beautiful, but it’s a quick reminder that your ability to get from place-to-place is only deemed important if you do it in a car. When I took what should have been a fairly effortless walk to my neighborhood park during lunch I saw that the roads had already been plowed curb to curb.

What happens after the curb, though?

The people on my block tend to clear the sidewalk early and take care of neighbors’ properties too. This makes it more maddening for me as I walk out of my area and see how many people don’t take this kind of responsibility. I see that better behavior is possible. If I thought this was the way it had to be — lazy fatalism — I would not bother to say anything about it. That’d be as useless as complaining about cashiers saying “no problem” instead of “you’re welcome.”

But, we can do better.

As soon as I left my street, I was met with an entirely uncleared sidewalk alongside Pope Park. Again, for keeping score: elderly homeowners get sidewalks looking pristine by 10 AM; paid City employees can’t be bothered to maintain sidewalks.

I know, you’re thinking to cut them some slack.

There are so many roads. Blah blah blah.

No. Six plow truck trips down a short, one-way street! When I try to cross from one side of the park to the other, I have to climb over the snow mountain to the street, and then repeat on the other side. Always dicey, and I know better than to expect drivers to wait patiently, even though I have an exclusive pedestrian cycle. I wonder how many pedestrians get hit each year by drivers who don’t let them finish crossing, and the person on foot slides on snow/ice, falls into the street, and is then under a car?

This is what I think of every winter. It’s what I wonder about when I see that a woman was killed on Franklin Avenue over the weekend. I’ve been on that block following snow events, and I know the many property owners don’t take the needs of pedestrians into account at all. I avoid that section of Franklin Avenue when there’s snow because it’s that obnoxious, and this is saying something because my favorite bakeries are down there. Initial news reports offer nothing in the way of details about that crash, which is the third pedestrian fatality of 2022; all three have taken place in Hartford.

On this side of Park Street, I see that an effort – not a great one, but something – has been made to clear the sidewalk. By the intersection with Laurel Street, though, even less effort was exerted. This is why I crossed, by the way. I could see there was something resembling a walkway over here.

It feels like Groundhog Day, and if my photos were not automatically dated on the computer, I would think I was looking at duplicates. It’s 2022, but I guess we’re not another year wiser as the curb ramps are still blocked. For me, this means climbing up and over. There are lots of people in this area who use various mobility devices, including wheelchairs. They have no up and over. Not that they could access the bus stop on the south side of the street anyway. There is a path to the shelter from the sidewalk, but nothing that gets a person to the bus.

The path from the bus shelter through Pope Park to the rec center has been cleared though, which is something because that means access to the sporadically open CVS Covid shack and through the park to Hillside Avenue. This is where I see a DPW truck driver diligently attempting to clear what seems to be every last parking space in the park’s lot.

I took and posted a lot of photos immediately, not because I expect sidewalks to be pristine within hours of a storm ending, but because (1) I see that we make it possible for the roadways to be cleared completely, and (2) it is important to remember when a problem started. Will I return to see those curb ramps still blocked in three days? Will anyone bother shoveling out the bus stop, ever?

I talk about this because I know it does make a difference, even if many problem areas remain. I know because places that I and others reported to 311 last year are finally getting cleared.

This does not mean the property owners are doing an amazing job, but we are seeing progress. One of the parking lot empires that would plow snow to block the curb ramp in other years actually created a path this time so people would not be stranded in a busy street. An apartment building in my neighborhood has finally treated its sidewalk as something people might use when going to the nearby school, rather than simply from one building entrance to the other. They even cleared their curb ramp. I can cite a dozen other examples of properties that were neglected but are now doing something.


Gentle reminders don’t work. People need to be told why they are expected to take certain actions. In this case, the essential workers that they claim to love need to have safe and convenient ways to get to those jobs. Don’t make people struggle to board buses. If sidewalks are inaccessible, people walk and roll in the streets because that is what has been cleared. Stop asking people to make dangerous choices for themselves.

And if doing the right thing for its own sake isn’t enough, fine, there are fines.

I go out 48 hours after the snowstorm ended and find one section between my house and downtown that was never touched at all. This is irritating, but also the best I have seen in years. There are several curb ramps uncleared though, and they are all either State of Connecticut or City of Hartford property.

WEATHER ALARM CLOCK
Before I’m out of bed I get a text from a friend warning me that it’s icy out. Her exact words: “Slippery AF.”

She learned by hitting black ice while riding her bike, leaving her with a bruise and the need to replace her helmet. I don’t love that a friend has already had a whole week before I have even brushed my teeth, but appreciate the message, which saved me from breaking my ass on the front steps. I get up, spread salt on the sidewalk.

LIFE’S MYSTERIES
I do not know what’s happening here.
That’s it.
That’s what I think whenever I walk by this.

DEBRIS OF THE WEEK
A bloody mask. A bloody bloody mask.
This is not the first, second, or third bloody mask I’ve encountered on the sidewalk during the pandemic. I have questions I don’t actually want answered.

Where was this mask? Oh, on the Burns School sidewalk, on the Park Terrace side, which I have been endlessly complaining about. The toilet was finally removed, but the boombox and other miscellaneous garbage remained; the bloody mask was a new addition. This goes to show that public shaming does get results, but in Hartford, it’s always the bare minimum.

You know how sometimes someone says something unfathomably stupid and you remember it always, even though it has no business remaining in your brain anymore? Years ago, someone was chiding people for not looking up while walking, expressing how this put the pedestrians at danger of getting mugged.

Okay, maybe.

But over the years, because I do look down while I walk, I have avoided stepping in: vomit, human and dog feces, broken glass, urine, dead animals, capped and uncapped syringes, condoms, pregnancy tests, maxi pads, soiled diapers, discarded food, and now, this bloody mask.

BEACON OF FALSE HOPE
I watched a couple press the button to summon the blinking light while there was not a car in sight, and that is the best way to use this feature because there is nothing else about the roadway telling drivers to slow down.

How do you see most city streets as designed for anything but moving cars through as quickly as possible, and to hell with all else?!

There’s an extra layer to this in the former Front Street neighborhood, knowing that there was density of people and businesses that got knocked out by the vacuous Interstate and shuttling the upwardly mobile into suburbs.

CAUTION
A sign on the State Capitol lawn. This is not near a sidewalk.
Was this installed because someone chose to walk up the driveway instead of taking a sidewalk?
Was it placed randomly?
Do we use signs and beacons to dodge lawsuits?

How were the sidewalks and crosswalks for you? Are you seeing improvements over past snow seasons?

WHAT NEXT?
1. Watch Seinfeld if you are unfamiliar with that episode. It’s on Netflix; or, you can borrow the DVD from Hartford Public Library.
2. Contact safestreets@hartford.gov and ask what is being done to make Franklin Avenue and Main Street north of Downtown safer for pedestrians.
3. Install the Hartford 311 app and place requests for service as needed. You can call, but using the app means uploading pics and having a record of how long it has been since you first reported the issue.