ABSTRACT

It was difficult to ignore the yellow posters covering what appeared to be every other telephone pole in midtown, Memphis. They were the size of a man’s chest, giving ample space for the large bold letters on the poster to make its message clear from several feet away: “On August 12, 2011, you killed my son.” Alternate posters replaced “son” with “father,” “fiancé,” and “friend.” The image of a bicycle below the text loosely linked them to the mysterious bicycles that appeared almost simultaneously, and in the same neighborhoods, as the posters. Painted in all white and tethered to fences and poles, the bikes produced an ominous presence that cut through the noise and bustle of the busy streets.