Granted, I came of age when there was no such thing as a bike helmet. Not only did we ride bikes, but we did so everywhere, for great distances, without a second thought. And whether we were on a fancy three-speed English racer or a hip Sting Ray with its banana seat and butterfly handlebars, it was freedom for a kid and our only means of transportation.
I never wore a bike helmet. No one did. And I survived. But then I met Ted, the father of one of my daughter’s friends, who had been an avid bike rider when he was in an accident, went over the handlebars and was severely brain damaged. Ted was such a sweet guy, but what remained was a shell of a human being. It was so sad. I would never let my kids ride without a helmet, even if the law permitted otherwise. But the law didn’t, and I understood why. Continue reading
