Policeman: “Hey, Boston, get back on the sidewalk.” Pink Slip: “But, Officer, based on the Pedestrian Danger Index, I know what I’m doing.”

A few weeks ago, Transportation For America published its 2011 Dangerous By Design report, which includes a Pedestrian Danger Index.

On the day the report came out, I was in Ireland, taking my life in my hands walking out Taylor Hill in Galway for lunch at the Ardilaun Hotel. The walk, which wended its way through a nice residential area, would have been perfectly pleasant if not for the occasional spots where the sidewalk disappeared, and, in its place appeared a brick wall or a building, flush up against the road. On which drivers were pell-mell zipping up and down the hill. Each time we’d reach one of these unpredictable spots, we’d decide that it was wiser to seek a sidewalk than it was to flatten ourselves against the wall and inch along the couple of dozen yards of Danger Zone. So we’d check, recheck, and sound check for approaching vehicles, then mad dash it across the road to get to the other side, where – at least temporarily – the sidewalk didn’t end.

At least, as proud Bostonian jaywalkers we’re used to mad dashes across streets which, like those in Galway,just weren’t built for car traffic.

As we were absorbed with the pedestrian perils of Galway City, we didn’t pay all that much attention to the Pedestrian Danger Index, other than to make a mental note that, amazingly, Boston is the least dangerous of the 52 metros ranked.

Mad dogs and pedestrians, stay out of the noonday Sunbelt.
If you’re a walker, you might want to stay out of the south and west: four of the “top 10” (in terms of pedestrian danger) are in Florida, two in Texas, and one each in California, Nevada, Tennessee/Mississippi, and Arizona.

The absolute worst: Orlando-Kissimmee.

Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be walkers anywhere near the Magic Kingdom.

Orlando’s Danger Score is 255.4; Boston’s a mere 21.6.

Needless to say, the news that Boston is the nation’s safest pedestrian city was met with plenty of hoots, and even a few hollers, around here.

We are, after all, a city that’s pretty well known for our jaywalkers. And it would seem to follow that jaywalking might be a tad more dangerous than standing rigidly on the street corner waiting (hah!) for the pedestrian light to appear. Instead, the metros that grew up in the car-and-driver error being more hazardous to your pedestrian health:

… reflect[s] the hazards of setting out on foot in sprawling cities built up in an era when planners focused on making roads wider and faster for cars — and where drivers are less accustomed to pedestrians. (Source: Boston.com.)

But there’s also some speculation that jaywalkers – precisely because they’re engaging in behavior that’s at least a tiny bit dangerous – are more nimble and more capable of avoiding oncoming traffic. Whatever the signs are telling us, we know when it’s okay to WALK, and when it’s better to DON’T WALK. We use our own judgment. Think situation ethics for pedestrians.

The odd pedestrian in a non-jaywalking city expects the WALK sign to mean everything is A-OK. Rules are rules, and they don’t anticipate the driver running the red light. Whereas Bostonians hope for the best and expect the worst.

And speaking of worst, we do seem to have the worst reputation, as far as jaywalking goes.

Many years ago, when in California, I believe in San Francisco – a pedestrian- and to some degree jaywalker-friendly city, I had just stepped off the curb to cross a street against the light, when a traffic cop hollered over to me, “Hey, Boston, get back on the sidewalk.”

(Not that cops in Boston never yell at jaywalkers. Once I was jayrunning across Beacon Street near the Public Garden when a policeman in a patrol car turning onto Beacon got on his speaker and blared “Lady, don’t you ever do that again.”)

On another SF trip, my husband and I were looking for a restaurant. There was a woman a few yards ahead of us, and we caught up to her to ask for directions. After she provided them, I asked her whether she was from Boston. (She did not have a New England accent.) She said that she had recently moved from Boston, but asked why we might think she was a former Bostonian.

“You’re the only one other than us who’s jaywalking,” I told her.

Anyway, I don’t jaywalk quite as much as I used to.

Too many jerks on cell phones not paying attention.

In fact, I’m more likely to double check even when I have the right of way.

Still, I have my favorite jaywalking spots.

The corner of Congress and State, for one. The light flow goes from Congress Street traffic, to State Street traffic, to pedestrian light. But most Boston pedestrians want that pedestrian light once Congress gets its red, as we don’t want to wait for everyone taking a left- or right-hand turn onto State. Sheesh….it’s not like we have all the time in the world.

Thus, the locals start crossing Congress once the through traffic on Congress gets a red light. Drivers making a turn from State onto Congress, beware.

Tourists, I note, tend to stay put on the curb.

My other favorite place to jaywalk is in Harvard Square, between the T-station and the Coop.

The traffic pattern there is a bit different than it used to be, but this spot is still good for a “critical mass” jaywalk, in which the pedestrians in a swarm decide that they’ve waited long enough and take to the streets. The look on the faces of the drivers with out of state plates when a couple of dozen folks step up into traffic against the light, against all societal norms, against all common sense, is worth the slight risk. And proof, indeed, that there is safety in numbers.

But, as I have noted, I am slowing down. I’ve even completely ruled out jaywalking after dark. I’m enough of a driver to understand that someone in a car may not be able to see you.

Meanwhile, as I stroll into old-age, happy to be living in a city where people walk, and where there’s an awful lot within walking distance of my home, I’m happy (if surprised) to learn that I will play out my hobbling dotage in the place that, at least in 2011, was the least dangerous place in the U.S. for a pedestrian.