I learned of the accident near the waterfront on Alaskan Way that eventually took 22-year-old bike messenger Yianni Philippides' life a day later, during the morning of June 23. Another messenger for his company, Fleetfoot, told me that day I was smart for wearing a helmet and that he was going to buy one himself that day as he did not wear one. He told me of Philippides accident. He told me that he was in a coma struggling for his life and that he had definitely sustained permanent brain damage. I told him about how wearing a helmet had saved me from sustaining any brain damage in an accident two years ago. Exactly a week after I learned of Philippides accident I saw the same messenger again, wearing his new helmet, and he appeared to be despondent. Iasked him how Philippides was doing in the hope he wasn't going to tell me he had died.

I told him I was I sad to hear the bad news and to stay safe before going to back to work. What the preventative measure of wearing a helmet would have done to save Philippides life aside, I can't mince words when it comes to condemning our society's reliance on the automobile as a mode of transportation. Philippides was killed by a society that forces the majority of the population to drive by way of sprawling patterns of development and lack of adequate public transportation funding. He was killed by a city government that refuses to build the voter-approved elevated Monorail, which could go a long way in easing Seattle's traffic congestion. He was killed by a city government that refuses to kick its habit of subsidizing parking. He was killed by Tim Eyman's public-transportation-cutting, statewide ballot initiatives.

The June 30 Critical Mass ride, which begins at Westlake Park at 5:30 the last Friday of every month, had to be a memorial for Philippides. Upon the news of his death the previous day, a group of bike messengers had staged a memorial game of street polo at the Spring-Alaskan intersection where he had been hit the week before. When I arrived at Westlake at about 5:30 three SPD officers drove up and parked their cars on Pine. An officer asked us who our spokesperson was and we told him nobody, as this was a leaderless Critical Mass ride not organized by any group in particular. He then reminded us that the upcoming weekend was five days and if we were arrested for blocking traffic, we would be stuck in King County Jail until Wednesday. A not-so-subtle threat of arresting us all had been made. What had happened the night before on Alaskan was "unacceptable" and Seattle's Finest weren't going to let us do it again.

Despite the threat from the SPD, the ride began at 6:30, an hour later than usual to insure that every bike messenger who wanted to attend could do so. The ride began on Fourth. We headed north on Fourth for several blocks and made a right onto Bell. After making a left onto Second, we headed south to Yesler. From there we headed toward Alaksan, making a right off Yesler and heading north until we arrived at the intersection at Spring where Philippides had met his end eight days earlier.

The riders all dismounted from their bikes and held an on-road memorial for Phiippides. Flowers and personal tokens were left at the site where Philippides' body landed, as those who knew him shared tears and Red Stripe Jamaican Lager, his favorite drink. A parked van and another rider directed traffic around the gathering. I thought to myself: "I like this. No official parade permit. No cops. No white-paper, liberal activist 'leaders' urging the cops to arrest those they disagree with in the demonstrating crowd. This is the way things ought to be done."

Amazingly, the SPD left us alone. Needless to say I was a little nervous about the traffic-blocking of the riders, as we all know a threat of a crackdown from the SPD should be taken seriously. It would have been highly hypocritical for the SPD to have attacked this Critical Mass ride. The law enforcement profession has made an art out of misinforming the public about the comparatively safe job conditions for law enforcement officers by way of stage-managed funerals for fallen officers, with plenty of mass media coverage. Had Philippides been a police officer, he would have been given a send-off fit for a king, complete with virtually every local politician and at least 10,000 cops in attendance.

Law enforcement is one of the safest jobs there is, but you wouldn't know this observing these grotesque state funerals for fallen officers. The purpose of these state funerals has always been to increase law enforcement appropriations. We saw the fruits of decades of this kind of misleading propaganda as the WTO protests were met with all the violence, short of lethal force, the SPD could muster.

The deleterious social effects of the increased militarization of local law enforcement agencies is readily apparent as the onslaught against what, if any, civil liberties we have left continues unabated, and the prison population continues to skyrocket to new record highs every year--the majority of inmates being victims of the "War On Drugs." These state funerals for fallen police officers have the added effect of diverting attention away from those working people who face far more hazards to their physical well being on the job, bike messengers included.

How sad it is that it took the death of a rider to get a turnout for a Critical Mass ride to top the 100 mark for the first time in a long time. We bike messengers need to come out to these rides. It's only once a month and Seattle's streets aren't getting any safer. The high density apartment and condo construction in downtown, complete with plentiful parking for future upscale residents, continues at a steady pace with no end in sight. If we don't help raise awareness about the dangers faced by pedestrians in downtown, who will?