On a muggy summer afternoon in Greenpoint, Brooklyn, a dozen people are hard at work on the patio behind a local church. They’re stripping old bicycles of their brakes, cables and chains, and sanding and spray-painting them white.
But behind the lighthearted chatter, there’s a more somber purpose to this gathering: They’re building “ghost bikes.”
Painted all white and adorned with colorful notes and flowers, ghost bikes are the cycling community’s equivalent of roadside shrines dotting the highway; they mark the spot where a rider was killed in traffic.
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