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The quote in the title and "There is never time to do it right, but always time to do it over" are both examples that show the price of being in a hurry. These quotes foreshadow some aspects of my worst bike accident.
From about 1994 to 2008 or so, Tuesday and Thursday afternoons were often busy times to play racquetball at Central College. There were four courts, and often they were all filled with a doubles, cut-throat, or singles match. My preference was always singles, then cut-throat, and then I tolerated doubles. Things would start about 4ish and end about 6ish. On Thursday, October 9, 2003, it was no exception.
I don't recall the time I started, but likely near 4, since I tried to get started early and try to leave in time to get home for supper. In particular, on this day, our fifth-grader, Christina, was at soccer practice. I had agreed to drive to pick her up with her friend, whose father drove them to practice. I don't recall if I was only playing singles or if I was playing cut-throat, and the third person left, but any rate, I indicated that I needed to stop. I remember clearly Brenda saying, "Come on. Can you play just one more short game?" I always wanted to play one more, so I was torn since I also didn't want to leave Christina in the lurch. In a split second, I agreed to a short one.
We finished the game, and I quickly showered and started biking east along Independence Street, knowing that I was behind schedule. Independence was not as busy a street then as it is now, but I rushed down that street without a helmet (which was quite unusual for me). In contrast to now, in 2003, the intersection of Independence and Broadway only had a stop sign for the east-west traffic. As I headed to the intersection, I recalled looking into the garage a block earlier, but as I approached the stop sign, I saw a car coming from the north. Newton's Laws of Motion play out while bike riding, and so in a case like this, in order to save time, I prefer not to come to a complete stop if I can just slow down enough, but keep the bike moving. Since the car would be passing the intersection in about two seconds, I just needed to use up two seconds while still biking. So, I slowly started acting like I was going to turn right on Broadway as soon as the car passed by.
I had a brief memory of going over my handlebars, and then everything went black. The next memory that I had was feeling like I was being lifted up, but spread out, and others were around me. I was being lifted into an ambulance on a stretcher. My narrow tires fell down into the storm sewer grate at the corner of Independence and Broadway, but it wouldn't have been an issue if the design had been rotated 90 degrees.
I recognized one person helping in the ambulance as the wife of a former colleague. The workers told me what had happened and that I may have had a concussion. On the short ride to the hospital, they told me that my doctor would meet me there. I don't think I went to the Emergency Room, but just an examination Room. My doctor, Kurt Vander Ploeg, was the only independent G.P., with the rest associated with the clinic there. I don't recall how long I waited for him, but I don't think it was long. I recall feeling some pain on my forehead and above my left eye, but OK otherwise.
Dr. Vander Ploeg always had a good nature in talking to his patients, being frank and not dramatic. He told me that I likely had a concussion, and that would mean that I should take it easy in the next 24 hours and have someone keep track of me. He didn't say that I couldn't go to work, nor did I ask. He also told me that I would need a few stitches above my eye. He did the stitches, and then I asked him how this would impact my playing racquetball. He thought that it was not unlikely that I would be able to play by next week (this being Thursday).
I don't remember what happened at this time, but I was told that the police would take me home (apparently, not being able to get in contact with anyone at home). I perhaps signed some paperwork at some point, and then the police took me (and maybe with the bike in the trunk, I don't recall now). However, I think I asked him to drop me off about two blocks from home at the home of the girl that Christina had ridden with. I stopped and asked the parents about Christina. I think that they assured me that she was home already, or maybe she was with them; I don't recall at this point. (It is interesting how some memories of this day are very clear to me and others not so much.)
I arrived home (either with or without my bike, thinking the latter) and perhaps Christina was home by then or walked home with me, and maybe Marcia was also, but at some point they both were. I apologized to Christina for not being able to pick her up. I didn't tell either of them about the last-minute choice to play one more game and the pressure that put on me to get home more quickly. Marcia was concerned about me. She was at a meeting (either a League of Women Voters, but maybe just a city council meeting), and she noticed when Marti and another had their beepers go off, and they left, but they were just two blocks away from me, so someone arrived quickly. I don't know if the car that was heading south noticed anything or who reported things. Later, talking with Marti, she mentioned that some of the students helped to identify me. If I recall correctly, Marti talked to Marcia after the meeting about me, but I am not sure.
I explained to Marcia about the need for observation of me for the first 24 hours, but that I intended to go to my morning class at 8:00 a.m. for several reasons. One, I was feeling fine at the time; two, it was too late to find a colleague to substitute; three, it was Abstract Algebra, my favorite class, and we were doing some important things. Marcia balked, but I told her I would talk to the students right away. I don't recall if someone else took over for my other class(es?). Oh, also, my glasses were broken and in disrepair, so either that night or the next morning before class, I went to Kuyper and retrieved my red-framed racquetball glasses.
I went to my 8:00 a.m. Abstract Algebra class, coming in just before 8. The students looked at me in surprise, the bandage and red-framed glasses making it clear that something was amiss. I asked if anyone had a cell phone, and there were several. (Recall, this was in 2003, before the iPhone started making them ubiquitous.) I told them about my bike accident, the likely concussion, and the 24-hour window of watching. I said that if I collapse, could someone with a cell phone please make a call and explain what happened. They looked at me with big eyes, almost in shock. I told them that the chances, however, are not very large. It is just a precaution. I then started teaching. However, my glasses were a fixed lens for me to see well at about 25' away, but normally, one eye is short-sighted, and the other is long-sighted. Class went fine.
When I had a break in the day, I biked (I am not sure on whose bike - a spare of mine, or Marcia's) over to the Pella Street Department and went into their office. The woman looked at me and said something like "you look like you have had an accident". I mentioned, "That is correct, which is why I am here to report a storm grate that needs to be replaced." She then realized that their office was "responsible" for my accident. I came there only to put in a request for them to exchange the grate with a design that went in the other direction. I had NO thought of a lawsuit or legal action. She went and got a supervisor, and a few minutes later, this person processed the information, and then told me to keep track of my expenses in getting new glasses and other medical issues, and they will cover those things for me. I was bewildered and wondering why they were telling me all of this. I guess it shows how ignorant I was, or how my mindset doesn't leap to "I will take you to court". I was only there trying to help the next person, and they were responding, hoping they could entice me from starting a legal suit against the city.
In the next few days, my forehead pain went away, the stitches did their thing, and I started to resume my normal life. I got new glasses ordered, and I planned a racquetball match for Tuesday (or maybe Thursday?) In that match, things were fine at first, but after a bit, I got a headache, and I needed to stop. I waited another week and tried again. I could get started, but after a certain amount of exertion, I got a headache. I don't remember the details, but I think I did more biking (though colder weather was coming) and perhaps more work on an elliptical. Off and on, I would try playing again (but only when playing doubles or cut-throat, so I didn't leave someone high and dry). It took about nine months before I could play without headache issues. This was before I had started running, so I never tried that. It was a frustrating time. But I knew that I needed to listen to my body.
A few days after my accident, I checked on the grate. It had been replaced, although not early enough for me, but at least others benefited. I went back to the city street department and thanked them for that.
Now, 23 years later, I am still sometimes learning to be more patient about coming to a complete stop and just waiting. I know I got a lot more careful in Marcia's last year of life, since I knew that she was counting on me, but sometimes I find myself getting sloppy again. However, I have been trying to train myself to just slow down on some things. The following quote from Saint Francis de Sales sums up my goal: "Never be in a hurry; do everything quietly and in a calm spirit. Do not lose your inner peace for anything whatsoever, even if your whole world seems upset."
Published on 2026-06-01.
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