Pedestrian safety becomes personal for councilman

At a kickoff meeting this month of a new pedestrian-safety committee, Seattle City Council President Nick Licata noted it was the birthday of his stepson, a Ballard High School student who was critically injured three years ago while trying to catch a Metro bus to school.

His stepson, now 18, was in a coma for months and suffered brain injuries. These days he tires easily and walks with a crutch. He lives four days a week in Greenwood with his mother, Andrea Okomski, and Licata, who were married in 2005.

Backed by his fellow council members, Licata's top priority this year is developing a master plan that positions Seattle to become a model city for pedestrian safety.

"In some ways it's sort of a gift to all those who unfortunately have been struck by cars," Licata said at the committee meeting. "You know, it's interesting, today actually is the birthday of my stepson and it's been 37 months since he was hit by a car. So there's many children out there. You know, they survive, but their families are impacted."

While it's not unusual for public officials to champion reforms drawn from their personal experience, rarely are they as involved in a public-policy issue as are Licata and his family. Licata and his wife each have sought advice from the city's ethics commission about potential conflicts of interest. She requested an opinion after she was denied a seat on a pedestrian-safety advisory board because of an apparent conflict of interest.

Licata's stepson, Josef Robinson, has filed a lawsuit alleging that negligence by the city and county led to his severe injuries. Filed in December, the suit doesn't specify a dollar amount, but an earlier administrative claim against the city sought $20 million in damages.

To be sure, others on the council also have a personal concern about pedestrian safety: David Della's chief of staff, Tatsuo Nakata, was fatally struck by a motorist in November. Peter Steinbrueck was hit by a car at age 11, lapsed into a coma and spent a year mending a broken body. Jean Godden was nearly run over as a child and escaped with bruises.

So it was no surprise that the council adopted a resolution this month calling for a top-to-bottom review of city policies affecting pedestrians. A pedestrian master plan, if approved by the council, would influence the city's future landscape — from road design to building permits — and guide a nine-year spending plan of some $8.5 million annually on improvements for pedestrians and bicyclists.

Licata said he deals with potential conflicts by following the direction he got from the city's ethics commission: focusing on the big picture and distancing himself from his stepson's lawsuit.

But he acknowledges that the accident changed how he looks at transportation policy.

"It personalized it," Licata said.

He now understands the "emotional wave an accident creates, the sense of loss and heartache. It's really hard to measure or perceive the heartache unless you're up-close and experience it."

Before the accident, Robinson was into cross-country running, hanging out with friends, writing poetry and composing songs. He played his electric guitar and read at an advanced level.

Now his vision, speech and ability to express himself in writing are strained. He reads at a fourth-grade level. He no longer has much of a social life outside of school, where he takes regular classes with the help of an aide.

"It's like being really old and disabled," his mother said. "It's a hard thing, but most days he's got a pretty good sense of humor and is pretty charming, so people are drawn to him."

Driven by her son's tragedy, Okomski has also embraced the issue of pedestrian safety. She's the executive director of a new nonprofit advocacy group, Pedestrian InRoads, that aims to spread awareness of the grim toll taken by pedestrian-auto collisions.

"More than lights"

Since 2001, more than 2,400 pedestrians have been struck by cars on Seattle streets, according to Seattle's Transportation Department.

The numbers haven't fluctuated much from year to year, with an average of 390 pedestrians injured and eight killed each year. The statistics don't address who was at fault.

"The question is, are those correctible incidents?" said Gregg Hirakawa, a Transportation Department spokesman. "We cannot engineer against reckless or negligent human behavior."

Those who have been pushing for a more comprehensive look at pedestrian safety applaud the council's resolution.

"It's more than crosswalks. It's more than lights," said Michael McGinn, executive director of Seattle Great City Initiative. "It's about designing a street so that the driver has an expectation that he has to deal with other people."

McGinn owns a house near North 85th Street, a street neighbors sarcastically refer to as "I-85" because of the number of motorists zipping past homes on their way to or from Interstate 5.

"It's a very dangerous street because all of the signals to drivers are just, 'Go,' " McGinn said.

Changed in an instant

Josef Robinson had forgotten his lunch.

Then 14, he was at a bus stop before sunrise on North 85th Street near Linden Avenue North when he realized the oversight.

He ran across four lanes of traffic — the intersection has no marked crosswalks or traffic signals — and to the nearby home of his father, Tim Robinson, with whom he lives part of each week. On his way back, he saw his Metro bus pulling toward the bus stop.

He waved wildly to get the bus driver's attention, broke into full stride and, according to a police report, "failed to use due care and caution" as he entered the eastbound lanes.

A car in the lane closest to him slowed to let him pass, but the car behind it pulled into the adjacent lane and, at an estimated speed of 38 mph, struck the teen, who landed about 30 yards away.

In an instant, the collision drastically changed his life and the lives of those closest to him. He was in a coma for four months.

"I was in the hospital every day for hours on end, every day for three months," Licata said.

Said Okomski: "There were horrible, horrible days that are etched in my nervous system. You live through them and come out the other side a different person."

When she finally brought her son home, she had to feed him, bathe him and care for his every need. She gave up her new career practicing law.

While Okomski drives him to doctor appointments and helps with school work, Licata does the household chores. He talks music with Robinson, a fan of Johnny Cash and several heavy-metal bands, and keeps him company. "My relationship to Joe is that of a good friend in the house," Licata said.

A claim filed on Robinson's behalf against the city last summer said his medical bills exceed $1.3 million.

"We don't know what Joe's opportunities would have been if that hadn't happened," Okomski said. "We just say this is where we are now, and try to take it from there."

Differing perspectives

Since November, Okomski has persistently sought and been denied an open seat on a board that advises the city transportation department on pedestrian safety.

"It is my perspective as a mother of a disabled child that I wish to bring to bear on the complex problems and balancing that must take place within the transportation equation," she wrote in her application.

City Council member Jan Drago's office disqualified Okomski from serving on the advisory board because she's married to Licata and her son is suing the city.

Drago said she knows pedestrian safety can be a highly emotional issue.

To keep an objective overview, "we should not involve victims or families of victims involved in litigation with the city in a role on the committee," Drago said. She stopped short of suggesting that Licata recuse himself from the pedestrian-safety committee.

For his part, Licata says that as long as he is not analyzing pedestrian-injury data or pushing for changes at the intersection where Robinson was hit, "I don't see the nexus.

"We're human beings, we're constantly creating opinions based on what we read and what we experience," he said. "You try to use the best judgment possible to come out with something for the greater good."

Licata said he rarely discusses his own family's pain in public: "I want people to think about this from a broader perspective — how anyone could be affected."

Sanjay Bhatt: 206 464-3103; sbatt@seattletimes.com