Robyn Avril Hightman was many things at once. A daughter, a passionate cyclist, a writer, and an advocate for safer streets. She believed deeply in fairness, accountability, and the simple idea that everyone deserves to get where they are going safely. On Monday, June 24, 2019, Robyn was riding her bike in New York City when a box truck driver ran a red light. He was speeding and distracted. He struck Robyn and killed her. She was 20-years-old. This is not a story her family ever wanted to tell. But it is one they feel compelled to share.
Robyn grew up in Charlottesville, Virginia, and carried her values with her wherever she lived. She was thoughtful, sharp, and deeply empathetic. Friends and family describe her as someone who noticed the details others missed and spoke up when something was wrong. Cycling was not just how Robyn got around. It was part of how she experienced the world. She believed biking made cities more humane and more connected, and she worked to make transportation safer and more equitable for everyone.
On that June afternoon, Robyn was doing what she had done countless times before. Riding her bike, obeying the rules of the road, trusting that the system around her would protect her. It did not. The driver who killed Robyn was talking on his phone, speeding, and ran a red light. The impact ended Robyn’s life in an instant. In the days that followed, the focus quickly shifted away from the driver and toward cyclists, a pattern her family would come to know all too well.
For Robyn’s father, Jay Hightman, the loss was devastating. He has spoken openly about the moment he learned his daughter was gone, and about the slow realization that the systems meant to deliver justice often fail victims of traffic violence. His grief was compounded by anger, confusion, and the sense that Robyn’s life was being reduced to a statistic rather than recognized as a human being whose life mattered.
In the years since Robyn’s death, Jay has become an advocate for bicycle safety and accountability for dangerous driving. He has spoken with lawmakers, transportation officials, journalists, and federal agencies. He has pushed for better truck safety standards, improved street design, and real consequences for distracted driving. His advocacy has helped elevate national conversations about blind spots on large trucks and the daily dangers cyclists face. Robyn’s name is now tied to calls for reform, not because her family chose this path, but because they could not allow her death to be ignored.
Robyn’s death is not an isolated tragedy. Distracted driving continues to kill pedestrians and cyclists across the country, often with little accountability. Vulnerable road users, including cyclists and pedestrians who are not protected by the body of a vehicle, pay the highest price when drivers take their eyes off the road, even for a moment. Without that protection, even low speed crashes can be deadly. Jay shares Robyn’s story because he wants drivers to understand what distraction really costs. Not tickets. Not delays. Lives. Robyn mattered. Her life mattered. And her story is a reminder that every choice behind the wheel affects someone else’s child, sibling, or parent.
