Posted on Thu, Jul. 17, 2008

Verdict in cyclists’ deaths is a call to action

By MIKE HENDRICKS
The Kansas City Star

William K. Johnson was driving his pickup along four-lane Raytown Road when he saw two bicyclists riding on the shoulder nearly 1,000 feet ahead of him.

The pavement was dry, the Grandview man testified in an Independence courtroom this week. His line of sight was unobstructed.

He also agreed that he had plenty of time to get over into the left lane, which was clear.

Most of us would have done just that.

Not Johnson. While driving at least the 45 mph speed limit — police claim it was closer to 54 — around 6 p.m. that day last August, he made no attempt to get over and give the cyclists room until the instant before he braked and ran into and killed Larry Gaunt, 59, and his granddaughter, Sierra, 14, who by that time were riding in the road.

Despite Johnson’s lack of good judgment — and reckless inattention, prosecutors alleged — 12 men and women found the 49-year-old handyman not guilty of involuntary manslaughter.

It’s one of those verdicts that send multiple messages.

The message to me and my fellow cyclists is that we’re fair game. If someone runs us down in Missouri, the likelihood is he or she won’t be held responsible.

The message to motorists who fail to take proper care to avoid hitting cyclists: Shed a few tears on the witness stand, as Johnson did, and there’s a good chance you’ll get off.

Police and prosecutors also are likely to discern a lesson from the outcome of what was hereabouts a rare criminal prosecution of a motorist accused of killing a bicyclist.

That lesson: Unless you can prove someone ran down a cyclist or pedestrian on purpose, don’t waste your time on these kinds of cases.

Still, maybe something positive will come of it, says Brad Gaunt, who was Larry’s son and Sierra’s uncle. He says he’ll work to pass laws making motorists more accountable.

“Out of this, I hope we’ll be able to use this as a pivot point to make things better,” Gaunt said. “If anything comes out of this nasty thing that happened to my family, I’d hope it’s that my dad didn’t die in vain.”

Fault the jury if you will, but its members had only three choices. Acquit Johnson. Convict him of first-degree involuntary manslaughter, which carries a sentence of up to seven years. Or convict him of involuntary manslaughter in the second degree, which could have put him in prison for one to four years.

At worst, he was accused of a reckless disregard as to whether his driving habits might put someone’s life in peril. Johnson claimed it’s his habit to always drive on the right, except when his way is blocked and he needs to pass.

The bicyclists veered into the traffic lane at the last minute, he claimed, though prosecutors say he wasn’t paying attention until it was too late.

Likewise, the law didn’t give the prosecutors much to work with. In cases like this one, they can charge a driver with a felony that requires proof of guilt beyond a reasonable doubt. Or police can give him a traffic ticket.

“What we need is some kind of bridge between the two,” Gaunt said. Legislation that allows some middle-level punishment that might more likely result in a jury conviction.

The possibility of a fine and up to a year in jail would be enough to get most drivers’ attention, he and I agreed.

“Right now, there’s no deterrent,” Gaunt said.

So on Thursday, the day after the verdict, Gaunt e-mailed Brent Hugh at the Missouri Bicycle Federation to volunteer to help in his group’s effort to pass such a law. Kansas needs one, too, Gaunt said.

That and new traffic rules requiring motorists to change lanes, if possible, when they see a cyclist or pedestrian on the shoulder. Currently, that requirement applies only when it’s emergency vehicles by the side of the road.

“I’m ready to jump in with both feet now that (the trial) is over,” Gaunt said.

Whether it’s testifying before legislative committees in Topeka or Jefferson City, he plans on taking along a couple of props.

They were in the courtroom this week, the mangled yellow road bike that Sierra was riding that day and the red one her grandfather was on.

I couldn’t take my eyes off them when Johnson testified that he knew the meaning of those “share the road” signs you see around town.

If only he’d practiced it, I thought.