I'm not sure who came up with the idea, or how long it has been practiced, but I've seen many bicycles chained to posts painted all white. They stand there day and night, no one daring cut the chain and ride to ride into the night.
People look at them and wonder; not why the bike ha been painted white but for whom. These bicycles represent someone that roe into the afterlife while riding them.
I have seen at least three of them in my neighborhood in Brooklyn. Most of them carried young ones by the inscriptions you find written on the fuselage. I wonder how the families of these kids cope with the ever present reminder, perhaps doors from the house.
I for one think of the precious times that person spent riding that bicycle; of the first time she saw it, of the first time she pedaled as fast as she could and the wind made all problems disappear. I think of how much I loved riding my bikes as a kid and I too try to forget the reality of how one of those days ended for the owner of the white bike.
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