Fallen Into Knowledge

Last fall, in order to fund my commuting bike, I sold the bike that my Dad built for my Mom, the bike I rode for as long as it fit me:  it was a Tomosso - built back when they really were handmade in Italy.  This bike was beautiful, it had Colombus Steel, lugs, and a full group of Durace components; it was also bright pink (it was originally built for my mom, remember).  I loved it anyway - it was light and responsive, and I mourned the day it was too small for me, because i knew then that it would be a long time until I could afford a bike like that again.
So, Last fall I sold the bike to fund a commuting bike, a bike that, whole nowhere near as nice as the Tomosso, would function well in getting me around town.  I was gratified when the Bike shop owner who sold the bike told me that it had sold to a bike messenger gal who fell in love with it on the spot.  At least I knew that the bike was in good hands.
Fast Forward to two weeks ago, roughly.
From an email received on July first:

“The article is about Kristine Ann Okins, 25, the 4th cyclist in one month’s time to be killed, she was hit on Monday, and died Tuesday. She was biking at Broadway & SW Washington at 9:17 am when the collision with a truck happened - I’m often biking at the same place at the same time on my commute - but I happened to be bussing that day.”

Mom wondered aloud to me if she had been the woman who had bought the bike, to which I replied, ” it is highly unlikely, and she (working at the time) would not have been riding the pink bike at the time.”

Well, I was half right.

Today, on my way home from church, I stopped at River City Bicycles to grab a larger messenger bag (mine was coming apart at the seams due to it’s being too small).  I selected my bag and happened to see this hanging from the ceiling:

Yup.  That’s the one.  No doubt about it.  When I saw the bike I had no idea that it was hanging in memorandum.  I was nevertheless dumbfounded:  the ceiling at River City is (literally) a museum of highly valuable and historic bicycles; and while I was not surprised to see a Tomosso in the collection, I was very surprised to see the Bike I had grown up riding hanging from the ceiling.
I told this to the employee standing near me, and he finished the story:  It had, in fact, been purchased by the young woman who had so recently been killed.  Strange, eh?  The employee said, “the hair on my arms is standing up right now.”  me too.

This entry was posted on Sunday, July 17th, 2005 at 6:00 pm and is filed under Bicycling, Random-ness. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.