Change Is Hard

…but change is certain.


14 Comments

Crash dummy survives!

Crash dummies waiting to go to work.

Crash dummies waiting to go to work.


I’d never been a witness to a test crash before. I suppose not many people have. It’s kind of a surreal experience, especially for a person that’s had a loved one die in a violent crash.

My husband and I, along with several other of our truck safety volunteers attended an all day conference at the Insurance Institute for Highway Safety in Charlottesville Virginia on Thursday.

And it wasn’t just us in attendance.

In an unprecedented move truck companies, trailer manufacturers, safety advocates, bicycle and pedestrian representatives, policy makers, and researchers were all together in one room to talk about the problem of truck underride.

Most of you don’t know what truck underride is, and I wish I didn’t have to explain it to you. But because our country is a generation behind Europe you probably haven’t seen a truck sporting a side guard to keep a car from traveling under the trailer in a crash.

Perhaps, if you’ve been in New York City or Boston recently, you’ve seen city trucks with side guards; those two cities have now mandated this safety precaution after several bicyclists and pedestrians were killed by falling beneath the trailers and being crushed by the wheels.

Side and rear underride is a huge problem outside cities too. As you pass a semi out on the freeway, and if it’s safe, glance over and see where the underside of that trailer would hit you if you slid under. Just about the height of your head. And if you slide under your airbags won’t deploy as there would be no impact of the engine and front of your car. The first impact would be the windshield, and that won’t save you.

And don’t think you’re safe if you hit a semi from behind. Many of the rear guards were built to 1953 standards and will collapse if you hit them with any speed. Once again, the only thing between your head and the back of that trailer will be the windshield.

In the lobby of IIHS.  No airbags in the old days.

In the lobby of IIHS. No airbags in the old days.

So for years safety advocates, including the Truck Safety Coalition, have been asking the Department of Transportation to require better rear guards, and to start the process to mandate side guards. It’s another one of those no-brainer things that we just can’t seem to get done through normal channels.

Thursday’s conference wasn’t a normal channel. Never before has the industry met with the safety people to discuss making changes that would move ahead of any regulations that might some day come out of the D.O.T. Never before has such candid conversations been held, without animosity, without rancor, with only safety in mind.

It was amazing.

At noon we went into the lab and watched a test crash of a Malibu slamming at 35 mpr into the back of a semi trailer that had been equipped with a new, stronger rear guard. Some of us weren’t sure we wanted to witness such a thing, but we’re all glad we did.

The dummy survived this crash because the rear guard was strong.

The dummy survived this crash because the rear guard was strong.

Because in this case the new rear guard held up and the passenger compartment, crash dummy inside, was not penetrated. (You can watch the crash test here.) Everyone inside this particular car would have survived. For many people the test crash was the highlight of the day. But I thought the highlight was later in the program.

During the day we had speakers from New York City and Boston tell us about the processes they went through requiring side guards on trucks within their city limits. We had speakers from government talking about where in the regulatory process we are, speakers from trailer manufacturers talking about stronger rear guards that are ready for market now, from a truck company that has ordered 4,000 of the new, safer rear guards, and from Virginia Tech students who showed us their own new design for a stronger, safer rear guard.

Explaining one of their designs they didn't end up choosing to build.

Explaining one of their designs they didn’t end up choosing to build.

Those students almost made me cry. They were undergraduates, the project assigned to them was to build a better rear guard for a semi truck. They, like most people, had never heard of underride crashes before. They learned about the problem, dreamed up a number of potential solutions, weeded their options down to four, and then figured out which one was the most plausible, most acceptable to both the trucking industry and safety advocates.

And then they built a it.

Virginia Tech student and a Truck Safety Volunteer who has been fighting for side guards since her dad was killed 33 years ago.

Virginia Tech student and a Truck Safety Volunteer who has been fighting for side guards since her dad was killed 33 years ago.

Incredibly 18 and 19 year old young people spent a year on this project, realized the importance of their work, and were brave enough to come and speak about it to a group of adults working in the industry. They were excited about their design and proud to show it off. And a room full of jaded adults sat respectfully listening, leaning forward, following along, congratulation the students at the end for a good design, inviting them to join the industry after they graduate. To think that this whole room of people, including the kids, was there to make the roads safer for everyone. Well. That just about made me tear up.

It should make you tear up too.

Because change is happening. It’s happening because we’ve moved past regulations and asked the industry to listen and to do what’s right. And they are responding. Not everyone. And not every request. But some. And some change will lead to more change. And every step we make toward safety saves another life.

Change is hard. But it’s not impossible.

Retired test cars.

Retired test cars.


10 Comments

Arlington musings

Gate to the Cemetery and the Robert E Lee house up on the hill.

Gate to the Cemetery and the Robert E Lee house up on the hill.


We meant to spend part of the day at Arlington Cemetery and the rest of the day at the Air and Space Museum. After all, it wasn’t our first trip out to Arlington, and we’ve been to the National Cemetery in Michigan a few times as well.

Turns out we underestimated our time wandering the cemetery grounds.

We spent nearly the entire day exploring, searching for particular grave sites, contemplating, watching. Listening. Listening to taps being played at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldiers, listening to a marching band playing military music off in the distance during the changing of the guard…

Changing the honor guard.

Changing the honor guard.

…listening to a mocking bird singing high over the endless rows of white marble markers.

Probably not a mockingbird, but he was pretty.

Probably not a mockingbird, but he was pretty.

And toward the end of our visit just when I was commenting about how peacefully quiet it was, how beautiful this particular tree was…

Pretty shade.

Pretty shade.

…a military flyover came roaring up from the Potomac, right overhead, shattering the peace, but raising the awesome level of our total experience.

We saw Senator Frank Lautenberg’s grave site. He was always so supportive of our safety efforts. We miss him – he was a good man. His stone should have proclaimed his work toward saving people’s lives on our roads.

It doesn’t, but we know.

You did good work Senator.

You did good work Senator.

But the stone that touched me the most was that of Medgar Evers. A simple white stone, like hundreds of thousands of others, set down over a hill below President Taft, it was evident that several people had come to visit and pay their respects.

Remembering Medgar Evers.

Remembering Medgar Evers.

He did good work too.

Wandering in Arlington was beautiful, but oh so sad. Because we had to acknowledge that every one of the thousands of headstones represented a person, someone’s child. They all belonged to someone.

Each one an individual.

Each one an individual.

And now they all belong to us.

Sobering.

On the back of the stone for Oliver Wendell Lewis, a Major General who served in World War II, Korea and Vietnam but was only 71 when he died, was this quote:

Good advice.

Good advice.

I like to think that those of us working for truck safety are doing just that – walking in the world for our loved ones. I think the General has it exactly right.

I wish everyone had the opportunity to visit this cemetery, to experience the solemnity, the sense of awe, the feeling of pride. I have to think the country would be in better shape if everyone spent a day exploring this special place.

There’s sadness here, but there’s peace and hope too.

Visit if you can.

Always vigilant.

Always vigilant.


16 Comments

I had to forgive her

Katie here.

I suppose you’ve all been enjoying my mama’s photos from her trip way up north. Might I remind you that she was gone for two weeks and she left me and my daddy behind! I don’t know what she was thinking.

This is my back yard!

This is my back yard!

And do you know what is worse? When she came home she smelled like another animal! Not me! Something smaller and…dare I say it…more like a….a…squirrel! Whatever it was it had been all over her!

When she first came home I was all excited. I couldn’t control my wriggle-butt, it just kept moving! Then I smelled the evil on her. I still couldn’t keep my tail from wagging…and I had to give her a couple of kisses. But then it hit me….she had cheated on me!

This is my park!

This is my park!

Well, I backed right up and sat down and barked at her! And you know what she did then? She laughed at me! How could she!?

I thought about it long and hard, (OK…for about 3 minutes) and decided I was going to have to be the bigger doggie and forgive her. After all, she took me to my park the very next day.

And she’s been giving me tummy and ear rubs. And she feeds me. And gets up in the middle of the night to take me outside if I ask.

I couldn't stop smiling!

I couldn’t stop smiling!

So I guess I should let it go, right? I shouldn’t feel all jealous and cranky. I mean she did come home to me and daddy. I don’t know where she went or who she hung out with, but she came home to me. And that’s what matters.

That and treats. Of course.

Imported Photos 00055


21 Comments

A place

Sun sets on another magical day.

Sun sets on another magical day.

What is it about a place? What is it that imprints a place on your heart? What makes a place feel like home whenever you’re there, even if it isn’t?

Sand ripples in rose light.

Sand ripples in rose light.

Are there places that put a magic spell over you? That cling to you when it’s time to leave, begging you not to go?

Wide expanse of beautiful.

Wide expanse of beautiful.

Can you only have one special place like this? Or can a person have these feelings in more than one? Does everyone have such a place, perhaps hidden in their heart?

Happy little wave.

Happy little wave.

And who among us is lucky enough to live in that place that tugs at their heart? For a few months or even full time?

Orchards resting until spring.

Orchards resting until spring.

I’ve spent two weeks in one of my special places, way up in the tip of Michigan’s little finger.

Used to be a working farm.

Used to be a working farm.

But I feel the same sense of belonging, the same tug on my heart when I’m in the Keweenaw Peninsula way way up north. So I know I can love more than one place at a time.

Maybe it’s the peninsula thing. Being on a spit of land surrounded by huge bodies of water. Maybe it’s being far away from a city and city lights.

Celebrating magical places.

Celebrating magical places.

Maybe it’s the crisp air, the huge vistas, the wind in the trees and the splash of waves on the beach.

In the shadow of Sleeping Bear.

In the shadow of Sleeping Bear.

Maybe it’s just magic. Maybe it doesn’t have to be understood.

Mountains of fun.

Mountains of fun.

Maybe it just is.

The magic begins in nature.

The magic begins in nature.


18 Comments

Like a shark

Up out of the warm darkness that is sleep you reluctantly emerge. One eye cracked open you see the triangle of an ear on the other side of a pile of pillows. It’s slowly moving toward you. The music of “Jaws” begins to waft through your sleep deprived brain.

The soft weight of the resident shark settles on your chest and then sneezes into your face.

Feed me.

Feed me.

Good morning Lydia.


6 Comments

Back to the walk

It was a wonderful day today, one of my last in northern Michigan. I had lunch with friends down in Traverse City and then I came back through a beautiful gentle snowfall and fell asleep on the sofa with the cat. Perfect.

Since I didn’t take photos (well only a few) I thought I’d take you back to the Clay Cliffs Natural Area where I walked Saturday afternoon. I’d been there a few days before, and I almost didn’t go back Saturday but the sun came out and the sky turned blue and I figured why not take advantage of beautiful weather to make it all the way around the trails there. (If you remember I walked there before but got nervous about becoming lost because I hadn’t studied the map before I started walking, so I turned around and didn’t finish.)

Last time I was here there were 10 or 11 inches of fresh snow and only a couple people had walked the trails ahead of me. Each step was through deep snow and while it was beautiful, it was also taxing. This time multitudes of people had tromped through the woods prior to me. The path was wide and definite and easy to maneuver. I set off at a good pace.

An obvious path makes the walk easier.

An obvious path makes the walk easier.

I was more confident, knew where I was going, and the shortest way to get there. No meandering for me! Plus I wanted to get ahead of these guys who were getting all geared up with snowshoes and poles and stuff. I ran into them again on my way back out of the woods.

You really didn't need snowshoes.

You really didn’t need snowshoes.

Pretty soon I was all the way at the back of the preserve; I could hear the lake’s chop distinctly. Around another curve and there was the viewing platform.

Wonder what I'll see?

Wonder what I’ll see?

I had hoped there would be stairs leading down to the beach so that I could actually see the clay cliffs, but there wasn’t any way to get down there. The lake sure was pretty though.

Very windy up here.  And cold too.

Very windy up here. And cold too.

I started this adventure pretty late in the day, so I didn’t stay long on the viewing platform. I headed back into the woods to complete the loop. Pretty soon the path headed back into the field, the field I had tromped across last time, coming from the other direction.

I was so close last time and didn't realize it.

I was so close last time and didn’t realize it.

It was a pretty walk, not at all intimidating, mostly because I knew I wasn’t lost. Amazing how a little doubt can override a good time. I’m glad I went back. Now I can say I’ve walked all of it. I think I should come back up here in the fall and walk the same trails again. It would be fun to see how they look in a different season.

Just a walk in the woods.

Just a walk in the woods.

Now wasn’t that a nice walk? I’m glad you came along. It’s always nice to have company.

See you next time!

See you next time!


17 Comments

Look! It’s the sun!

Late afternoon light.

Late afternoon light.

I went for another walk in a nature preserve today and I planned on sharing that with you. While I was there the sun came out! Blue sky, shadows on snow in the woods, turquoise lake. It was all beautiful.

But do you know what was even more beautiful?

Tonight’s sunset! It’s the only sunset I’ve seen during the almost two weeks I’ve been here. Mostly the sky has been dark and ominous. Yesterday the clouds were almost purple – beautiful in their own way. But no sunsets.

Turning grass into gold.

Turning grass into gold.

So I decided to show you that instead. Sit down and relax. You’ll get to enjoy it from the comfort (and warmth) of your home. I, however, couldn’t help myself, I ran right out there into the wind. It was magical.

And then the sun began to set.

And then the sun began to set.

I’d already been out to the lake earlier in the late afternoon when I noticed the light had turned gold.

The light turned the waves to gold too. It was sort of mesmerizing. While I was trying to get the color recorded I’d notice myself watching through the viewfinder but not taking the shot. Just watching. Silly photographer.

Liquid gold.

Liquid gold.

Eventually I got cold and went back up the 40-something steps into the house. Where I almost immediately noticed that the sky was beginning to turn pink.

Turning pink.

Turning pink.

I didn’t even take my coat off; just got better gloves and ran back down the stairs into the pink air. I was actually saying out loud “Oh my God, oh my God” as the light warmed and the world began to glow.

Sun is going down faster now.

Sun is going down faster now.

The tops of waves were being blown by the increasingly blustery winds and they began to glow pinkish gold – like little tiny volcanoes.

Tinged with pink.

Tinged with pink.

Wonderful.

Orange crush.

Orange crush.

The sky to the south was turning more and more orange.

Orange sherbet.

Orange sherbet.

The sky to the north was pink and purple.

Raspberry sorbet.

Raspberry sorbet.

I was all alone, standing on a sandy snowy bluff and the entire sky had turned into art. It was indescribable. I turned my back to the wind, protecting the camera, and just watched.

Front row seats.

Front row seats.

Bursting from my head and my heart deep thanks began to float on the wind. Thanks for being allowed to stay in this beautiful place. Thanks for one sunset during my stay. Thanks for being able to capture some of it to share with all of you.

Amazing doesn’t begin to describe the moment.

Overwhelming.

Overwhelming.

I guess you had to be here.

Thank goodness I was.

Gratitude.

Gratitude.


10 Comments

On the beach

Many of you have retreated to warm beaches, beaches with palm trees and lounge chairs, beaches that require sunglasses and sunscreen. Where you can dip your toes in the waves. I’m at a beach too, though it’s a bit different. Just a tad cooler and windier.

Since the windstorm Christmas Eve I haven’t been able to walk on the beach right here at the house. The big waves dug away the bluff and now it’s more like a cliff. Sure, I could hop, jump or maybe roll down to the beach. But I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to get back up. And it’s way too cold to take that risk. So I’ve been looking longingly at the beach and staying up on the bluff in the wind.

Windy lake glows turquoise under a purple sky.

Windy lake glows turquoise under a purple sky.

Today some neighbors stopped by to say “Happy New Year!” and I mentioned how I’d like to walk on the beach. They reminded me of a long staircase down in the next group of homes. They said it was covered in snow…but once maneuvered would lead me to a wide beach only a half mile or so away.

Well! This afternoon I bundled up, took the camera and headed up the street, down the stairs and out onto the beach. It was beautiful. And cold.

I'm teaching myself how to use manual camera settings.

I’m teaching myself how to use manual camera settings.

Oh so cold. I shot a short video and thought my fingers would actually fall off. It’s posted on Facebook if you’d like to see it.

I found a very nice Petosky stone which was partially frozen into the sand. I got it chippped out and put the whole thing, frozen sand chunk and all in my pocket. I found another beautiful Petosky stone, but couldn’t get it chipped out of the ice. Most of the stones were frozen solid to the sand. Ah well.

Waves just keep on coming.

Waves just keep on coming.

There were big boulders that had waves of ice and sand covering them from earlier in the day when the waves were higher. It was all beautiful.

All the photos in this post were from my walk on the beach. Notice how striking the sky was too. Every day the lake looks different. The sky changes. Wind and waves and light carve out a new view for me.

Giant ice cubes.

Giant ice cubes.

It’s going to be hard to leave this place, but soon I’ll be headed back to my husband and my Katie-girl. It will be good to be home, but it was very good to be here too.

Love my Lake Michigan.

Brrrrrrrr!

Brrrrrrrr!