When Our Community Breaks: Processing Tragedy as Parents
I'm writing this with tears in my eyes and a heavy heart that I know so many of you share right now.
On Friday afternoon, just three blocks from Hamilton Park in Jersey City, a 6yr old boy was riding his bicycle near his home when he was struck and killed by a UPS truck. He was with his father. He was doing what kids do—riding his bike, probably excited about the weekend ahead.
And now he's gone.
If you're a parent reading this, I know you felt that same punch to the gut when you heard the news. That instant, nauseating recognition that it could have been your child. That it could have been you standing there, watching your world shatter in an instant.
The Fragility of Everything
As parents, we spend so much time thinking about the big scary things like stranger danger, serious illnesses, accidents that happen to other people. But this? This was a child riding his bike with his dad on a Friday afternoon. This was normal life, the kind of moment that happens in every family, every day.
The Jersey City community is rallying, organizing vigils, demanding safer streets, starting petitions for speed bumps. Because when something like this happens, we need to do something. We need to feel like we have some control, some way to protect our children, some way to make meaning from the meaningless.
But underneath all that action, underneath the very necessary advocacy for safer streets, is something else. Something we don't talk about enough: the terrifying randomness of it all. The fact that we can do everything right and still lose everything.
I can't even finish that sentence. Because I'm a parent too.
When Kids Ask the Hard Questions
Your children have probably heard about this. Kids in Jersey City are definitely talking about it. Maybe your child came home from school asking questions you weren't prepared to answer. Maybe they're suddenly scared to ride their bike, or they're asking why bad things happen to good people.
Here's what I've learned about talking to kids about death and tragedy, both from my own experience and from child development experts:
Keep it age-appropriate but honest
For younger children (3-6): "Sometimes very sad things happen that nobody wants to happen. A little boy was hurt very badly in an accident and he died. This made everyone very sad because we loved him and will miss him."
For older children (7+): "You might have heard about the boy who was killed in Jersey City. He was riding his bike when a truck hit him. It was an accident, but he was hurt so badly that he died. His family and friends are very sad."
Let them lead the conversation
Answer their questions honestly, but don't overwhelm them with details they haven't asked for. Some kids want to know everything. Others just need reassurance that they're safe.
Acknowledge their feelings
"It's normal to feel scared or sad when something like this happens. I feel scared too sometimes." Don't try to fix their emotions, just validate them.
Focus on the helpers
Talk about the people who came to help, the community coming together, the ways people are working to make things safer. Kids need to know that when bad things happen, good people step up.
The Weight of Community
What strikes me most about this tragedy is how it's bringing the Jersey City community together. Parents who might never have spoken before are signing petitions together. Neighbors are organizing rallies. Local businesses are supporting safety initiatives.
This is what community looks like when it matters most.
In our BUBS community, we talk a lot about the village it takes to raise a child. We trade gear and share advice and celebrate milestones together. But community isn't just about the happy moments. It's about showing up when things fall apart. It's about grieving together, advocating together, holding each other up when the world feels too scary to navigate alone.
The community rally was held on Monday, June 16th at 5 PM at City Hall, where residents came together to demand safer streets. Even though that specific rally has passed, you can still sign the petition for safer streets and stay involved in ongoing advocacy efforts. You can have conversations with your neighbors about traffic safety. You can be part of the change this community needs.
Honoring a Life Cut Short
While I don't know this family personally, I know they're part of our extended community of parents trying to raise children in a world that can be beautiful and terrifying in equal measure. If you're able, consider making a donation to local organizations working on pedestrian safety, or simply take a moment to hold your own children a little tighter tonight.
Moving Forward (Whatever That Means)
I keep thinking about that father. About how a normal Friday afternoon became the worst day of his life. About how he'll never be the same person he was before 4 PM on June 14th. This has been weighing on me for days now. I can't stop imagining what he must be feeling—the replay of those final moments, the crushing guilt that wasn't his fault, the empty space where his child used to be. How do you even begin to process something like that? How do you wake up the next day when your world has ended? What makes it even more real for me is that I'm in that area all the time with my own child. We walk those same streets, ride bikes through that neighborhood, pass by Hamilton Park regularly. It could have been us. It could have been any of us. That intersection at Sixth Street and Jersey Avenue—I know it well. We've crossed it countless times without a second thought.
And I think about all of us, parents in Jersey City, parents everywhere, who are trying to figure out how to keep living normally when we're reminded so starkly that normal can disappear in an instant.
Here's what I think: we keep loving our children fiercely. We keep advocating for their safety. We keep building community. We keep showing up for each other. We keep riding bikes and walking to school and living our lives, because the alternative... wrapping our children in bubble wrap and hiding from the world, isn't really living at all.
We also remember that every ordinary moment is actually extraordinary. Every bike ride, every walk to school, every time we watch our children play in the park, these aren't just routine activities. They're gifts. They're miracles. They're core memories. They're precious beyond measure.
What We Can Do
Beyond the immediate calls for safer streets in Jersey City, this tragedy reminds us that we all have a role to play in keeping children safe:
As drivers: Slow down in residential neighborhoods. Put your phone away. Assume there might be a child around every corner, because there might be.
As community members: Advocate for traffic calming measures in your neighborhood. Support local organizations working on pedestrian safety. Speak up when you see dangerous driving.
As parents: Teach your children about traffic safety, but don't let fear keep them from being kids. Help them understand that while we can't control everything, we can control how we treat each other and how we show up for our community.
The Long Road Ahead
This family's grief is just beginning. The community's healing will take time. The work of making streets safer will require sustained effort, not just immediate outrage.
But if there's anything I've learned from being part of the BUBS community, it's that parents are incredibly resilient. We show up for each other. We turn our pain into purpose. We refuse to let tragedy have the last word.
The Jersey City community is proving that right now. In the midst of unimaginable loss, they're organizing, advocating, and demanding better. They're turning their grief into action. They're honoring one child's life by working to protect all children.
That's not nothing. That's everything.
How to Help
If you want to support traffic safety initiatives in Jersey City:
- Sign the petition for speed bumps on Newark Avenue
- Attend the rally Monday at 5 PM at Jersey City Hall
- Follow @trafficreformwarriors on Instagram for updates
- Contact your local representatives about Vision Zero policies
- Support organizations like Bike JC and SafeStreets JC
Holding Space
I don't have easy answers. I don't have words that can make this better. What I have is a community of parents who understand the weight of loving a child in a world that can be dangerous and unpredictable.
If you're struggling with this news, if you're hugging your children tighter tonight, if you're feeling overwhelmed by the fragility of it all... you're not alone. Share your thoughts in the comments below. Tell us how you're talking to your children about this. Tell us how your community is responding.
We're all in this together, even when it feels like we're not. Especially when it feels like we're not.
Rest in peace, little one. Your community will not forget you.
Resources for Talking to Children About Death and Tragedy:
Published: June 19, 2025
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