The Intersection of Neglect: How Portland’s Streets Became a Battleground for Pedestrian Safety
The Scene That Says It All
Imagine standing in the middle of a chaotic intersection, cars whizzing by at 40 mph, and realizing you’re essentially trapped on a concrete island. That’s the reality for pedestrians at Portland’s Franklin Street and Marginal Way intersection—a place Myles Smith, chair of the city’s bicycle and pedestrian advisory committee, aptly calls ‘Portland’s purgatory.’ What makes this particularly fascinating is how this one intersection encapsulates a much larger, systemic issue: our cities’ relentless prioritization of car efficiency over human safety. Personally, I think this isn’t just about a dangerous crossing—it’s a metaphor for how we’ve designed our urban spaces to serve vehicles, not people.
The Human Cost of Design Failure
Take the tragic case of Diane Bell, a 75-year-old runner killed at this very intersection. She did everything ‘right’—reflective gear, LED lights, even helping others cross safely. Yet, she was hit by a driver rushing to beat a yellow light. What many people don’t realize is that intersections like these are designed to encourage speed, not caution. Slip lanes, curved corners, and closely spaced traffic lights create a perfect storm for accidents. If you take a step back and think about it, this isn’t just a driver’s mistake—it’s a failure of urban planning that values speed over lives.
The Blame Game and Its Consequences
One thing that immediately stands out is how police reports often place blame on pedestrians, even when the infrastructure is clearly at fault. Cynthia Karst, another victim at a nearby intersection, was said to have crossed against the signal. But here’s the kicker: these intersections are so poorly designed that even following the rules doesn’t guarantee safety. In my opinion, this narrative of ‘pedestrian error’ is a convenient way to avoid addressing the root cause—our car-centric infrastructure. What this really suggests is that we’re more comfortable blaming individuals than rethinking our entire transportation system.
The Slow Grind of Change
Portland has adopted a Vision Zero plan, aiming to eliminate pedestrian deaths. That’s a noble goal, but the pace of change is glacial. Greg Jordan, the assistant city manager, admits it’s a long-term effort, but advocates like Smith argue for urgent, temporary fixes—bollards, automatic walk signals, lower speed limits. A detail that I find especially interesting is the ‘beg button’—pedestrians must press a button to cross, as if their right to safe passage is a privilege, not a right. This raises a deeper question: why are we so resistant to prioritizing pedestrians in the first place?
The Bigger Picture: A Cultural Shift Needed
From my perspective, Portland’s struggle isn’t unique—it’s a microcosm of a global issue. Cities worldwide are grappling with how to balance car traffic with pedestrian safety. Andrew Zarro of the Bicycle Coalition of Maine puts it bluntly: Maine’s infrastructure is failing its people. But what’s truly striking is the psychological barrier here. We’ve been conditioned to see roads as the domain of cars, and any attempt to slow them down is met with resistance. If you ask me, this isn’t just about redesigning streets—it’s about redesigning our mindset.
The Way Forward: Bold Action or Band-Aids?
The city is planning upgrades, like ‘blankout’ signage and a complete redesign of Franklin Arterial. But these projects take time, and time is a luxury pedestrians don’t have. Smith’s suggestion of pinching intersection corners to force slower turns is brilliant—it’s a simple, immediate fix that challenges the status quo. What makes this particularly fascinating is how small changes can have a massive impact, but only if we’re willing to prioritize safety over speed. In my opinion, the real test isn’t whether Portland can fix this intersection, but whether it can shift its entire approach to urban planning.
Conclusion: The Intersection of Choices
Standing at that intersection, Myles Smith felt like a castaway—trapped, forgotten, and at the mercy of a system that doesn’t care. That’s the harsh reality for pedestrians in Portland and beyond. But it doesn’t have to be this way. If we’re willing to rethink our priorities, to value lives over efficiency, we can transform these battlegrounds into safe, inclusive spaces. Personally, I think the choice is clear—but are we brave enough to make it?
