Summary: This 1996 article is more memorable for its statistics than for the carping about personal liberties.

Copyright, The Wall Street Journal
September 9, 1996

The Bicycle Loses Ground as
a Symbol of Childhood Liberty

Getting a bike used to be a kid's passport to freedom. Those who grew up in the decades through the 1970s fondly recall long summer days spent on their bikes, when they would reappear at home only to eat and sleep. No more. Many parents, even ones in quiet suburbs or serene middle-American towns like Greeley, Colo., simply don't allow their children to ride far without supervision.

"I think about the traffic, and I think about my kid getting snatched," says Marty Gillenwater, who doesn't want her only child to become another "face on the milk carton."

Getting a bike used to be a kid's passport to freedom. Those who grew up in the decades through the 1970s fondly recall long summer days spent on their bikes, when they would reappear at home only to eat and sleep. No more. Many parents, even ones in quiet suburbs or serene middle-American towns like Greeley, simply don't allow their children to ride far without supervision.

"I wish I could go wherever I want," says seven-year-old Alexis Fleming of the Dallas suburb of Richardson, Texas, as she sits in her living room, her father's arms around her. The only time Alexis can bike around her neighborhood is when her family goes on walks. Then she must stay on the sidewalk and go no more than two houses in front of her parents. Wistfully, she wishes aloud that she could ride all the way to the end of the block, then back to the house. "I'd stop at the stop sign," she promises.

Spoken Fears

"I don't protect them from risks," explains Alexis's father, Steve Fleming, of his four children. "I just provide an atmosphere that's more controlled."

So now, biking is yielding to more controllable surrogates -- supervised play groups, structured extracurricular classes and an explosion of organized sports -- that leave children with considerably less free time for discovering the world on their own. Alexis and her three siblings, for example, are kept busy with a schedule that includes not merely the old standard, baseball, but also swimming, tae kwon do and gymnastics. Alexis gets the dance lessons her mother never got as a child, while brother Zach, 8, can already do a double flip off the diving board.

Still, Mr. Fleming looks back with longing on his own childhood in Colorado Springs, when he could ride wherever he wanted by the age of six. "I was a man of the world," he says.

Flattening Sales

Parental fears -- and dwindling use -- do have an upside. Last year, 242 children five to 14 died in bike accidents, a decrease of 59% from 1975, according to the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration. The decline came despite a 14% increase in the number of children in that age group since 1986.

Meanwhile, though the child population has been steadily rising, the number of children kidnapped, murdered or ransomed by strangers has remained constant at about 300 a year during the past 15 years -- a statistic that doesn't make parents feel any better. "I don't think there's any question that public awareness of the issue is rising," says Ernie Allen, president of the National Association for Missing and Exploited Children.

Fighting the Tide

Greeley, a tree-lined farm town of 60,000 about 40 miles north of Denver, seems about as far from those kinds of urban nightmares as a place could be. But Sgt. John Gates of the Greeley Police Department says the anxiety cuts across class lines. He says he sees fewer kids riding bikes on the affluent west side of Greeley than when he was growing up there, but adds that bike riding is even less common in the working-class east side.

Some worry that the loss of independence can carry a price, cutting into a child's confidence and willingness to venture into new territory. Linda Robbins, who rarely allows her nine- and 11-year-old daughters to ride more than a block or two from their Greeley home, has noticed that her girls often have difficulty making decisions. She wonders whether there is a connection. "They ask me really simple things," she says. " 'What should I wear to school today? What movie should I watch?' "

It can take just one incident to alarm a town, and Greeley had one this spring when a 12-year-old schoolmate of Cody Gillenwater's was struck by a car and killed after biking through a stop sign. Cody was so bothered by the death that it took him weeks before he was willing to ride past the accident site on his regular bike rides with his father, Bill. Once there, Mr. Gillenwater made a point of talking about how the accident could have been avoided.

Both the Gillenwater parents are passionate recreational bike riders -- the family owns nine bicycles -- and they often ride with Cody. At the same time, their own experiences have made them more aware of the dangers their son faces as a solo cyclist. Three years ago, for example, Mrs. Gillenwater was riding by herself in the country outside Greeley when a man standing by the roadside exposed himself to her. While Mrs. Gillenwater laughs about the incident now, it also makes her aware how vulnerable her slender 5-foot-2-inch son could be.

"He's a kid still," she says. "He likes people."

Cody only shrugs when asked about his mom's bike rules. "Sometimes it does bother me," he says. "But drivers are not aware of what they're doing nowadays."

Still, Mrs. Gillenwater goes the extra mile to keep Cody riding. Every morning she takes Cody and his bike by car across a busy highway to the elementary school where she works as a librarian. Then, Cody puts on his helmet and rides two miles to middle school with his friends.