Janet Haas two decades ago saw potential in a field of thistle, grass and bushes that Milwaukee County had neglected: Valley Park, nestled between the Menomonee River to the west and homes in one of Milwaukee’s most racially diverse neighborhoods to the east. 

“The county doesn’t have any money, and they haven’t had any money for years,” said Haas, 65, who has lived most of her life in the Near West Side neighborhood, called The Valley or Piggsville. “One day I just decided that the thistles were as tall as I was, and I wasn’t going to take it anymore.”

That meant persuading her mom and a friend to join her in pulling weeds and planting bushes and flowers in the park. The Milwaukee Metropolitan Sewerage District built the park as part of a multi-million dollar project to protect the neighborhood from flooding – but, Haas said, it fell into disrepair after its completion in 2001.

Valley Park is now a meticulously maintained community gathering spot — complete with walking and biking trails, a play structure and shade trees. Residents take pride in the tidy park — evidenced by their weekly cleanup events, such as a June 22nd gathering of about a dozen neighbors.  

“We all know each other, we look out for each other,” said Moses Mcknight, a resident of 17 years, as children and adults moved mulch and watered flowers in the park. “We like to fix things up, and keep it that way.” 

But neighbors at the Thursday evening cleanup worry that a $1.2 billion plan to widen the Interstate 94 East-West Freeway corridor will disrupt their gatherings and undo progress.

I-94’s six lanes stretch above the Menomonee River and run south of Valley Park — carrying commuters between downtown Milwaukee and the city’s western suburbs in Waukesha County. Backed by Democratic Gov. Tony Evers, the Wisconsin Department of Transportation plans to add two lanes to a 3.5-mile segment of the highway. 

Valley Park sits in the middle of the planned expansion. Aside from increasing noise and air  pollution as more cars zip down a wider highway, residents worry the addition of about 29 acres of asphalt — the equivalent of more than twenty football fields — will increase flows of stormwater into The Valley and surrounding flood-vulnerable neighborhoods. 

The state transportation department acknowledges the extra pavement will increase stormwater runoff, but it says it won’t analyze precise effects on runoff until the final design phases of a project expected to break ground in 2025. 

“Who’s going to benefit? Because it’s not going to be us,” Haas said. “The soil is going to be crummier and more polluted. We worked on this park, why should we give it back?”

The transportation department declined to be interviewed for this story. In an unsigned statement emailed by a spokesperson, the department wrote, in part: “We work to avoid or minimize the impacts of infrastructure improvements to the natural and human environment while delivering projects efficiently.”

Flood-prone neighborhoods at center of I-94 expansion

Evers and the Wisconsin Department of Transportation want to expand the interstate to decrease traffic congestion and high crash rates, and repair aging infrastructure in what Evers has called one of the state’s “most congested and dangerous roads.” 

Menomonee Valley Partners, a nonprofit dedicated to redeveloping the Menomonee River Valley, has praised the state’s decision to proceed with the project.

But more than 20% of households near the corridor lack a car, and expansion opponents point to volumes of research showing that widening highways can actually increase traffic volume. They say the expansion will disproportionately disrupt Milwaukee’s Near West Side neighborhoods that the highway shaped six decades ago.  

The expansion cuts through some of Milwaukee’s most flood-vulnerable areas. 

The Valley, Merrill Park and other neighborhoods north of I-94 face “high” vulnerability to flooding, according to recent mapping by the environmental advocacy nonprofit Groundwork Milwaukee, The New School Urban Systems Lab and other partners. Neighborhoods just south of the highway — including parts of the Mitchell Park, National Park and Clarke Square neighborhoods — face “very high” flood vulnerabilities, the research shows. 

The analysis indexes flood vulnerability according to impacts on health, such as how many people lack health insurance and face certain chronic diseases; socioeconomics, including age, income and racial demographics; and housing, including the age of housing stock and portion of households lacking a car.

According to the report, The Valley faces a “medium” flood exposure level, or how likely it is to flood during heavy rainfall. But many surrounding neighborhoods — including Merrill Park to the east and parts of neighborhoods along the Menomonee south of I-94 —  face a “high” risk. The analysis doesn’t consider how the I-94 expansion might affect flooding.

With roughly as many white residents as people of color — mainly Black, Latino and Asian Americans, The Valley is among Milwaukee’s most diverse neighborhoods. Residents of color make up larger majorities in other flood-vulnerable neighborhoods touched by the expansion. Those include Merrill Park (54% Black, 19% Hispanic or Latino) and National Park (7% Black, 73% Hispanic or Latino), according to an analysis of 2020 census data by Marquette Law School research fellow John Johnson. 

Institute for Nonprofit News collaboration partners report that cities throughout the Great Lakes region are experiencing crises resulting from intense rainfall, archaic wastewater systems, crumbling infrastructure and segregated housing, creating a perfect storm of flooding vulnerability and environmental injustice. Rural areas, Indigenous communities and ecosystems in the Great Lakes also face great risk from flooding, endangering hard-fought gains in environmental restoration and community development.

Runoff analysis to come late in project

Understanding precisely how much the I-94 expansion will affect those neighborhoods requires a detailed runoff analysis, said Lawrence Hoffman, senior manager of GIS and Data Services for Groundwork USA, who helped lead the vulnerability mapping project. 

In its Supplemental Environmental Impact Statement published in 2022, the state transportation department acknowledged that adding acres of impermeable pavement will increase stormwater runoff, but said “the water that would be collected from I-94 would be treated better than it is today.” 

The department said it won’t calculate the “quality and quantity” of the runoff — and finalize solutions to address it, such as retention basins or grass-lined ditches — until the project’s final design phase. 

That’s too late to offer such critical information — and long after the project’s public comment period, which closed in January, said Cheryl Nenn, a riverkeeper for Milwaukee Riverkeeper, a self-described “science-based advocacy organization working for swimmable, fishable rivers” around Milwaukee. The state transportation department plans to include feedback from the public comment period in a final Environmental Impact Statement, expected to be released this year.

“It is frustrating, because they acknowledge there’s pollution, they acknowledge that there’s a litany of different things they can do to minimize that — or ameliorate those impacts, but they don’t commit to anything,” she said. 

Milwaukee has strict local rules for minimizing runoff from new projects and redevelopments, but the I-94 expansion, as a state project, isn’t bound by them, Nenn added. That includes a rule that developments above a certain size can’t generate additional runoff. 

“There’s been a lot of really serious work to deal with flood management in the watershed, and that work continues,” Nenn said. “This type of a project is going to make it harder for us to achieve our goals for clean rivers.”

Milwaukee seeks to address stormwater runoff 

The sewerage district has poured hundreds of millions of dollars into flood control along  watersheds, with a goal of reducing sewage overflows and basement backups to zero by 2035. That includes along the Menomonee River, which runs parallel to I-94 before turning south and crossing beneath the highway at Valley Park. The Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources lists the river as “impaired” due to its high levels of phosphorus, E. coli, polychlorinated biphenyls and other issues. 

The district saw more than 2.1 billion gallons of wastewater discharged in 2020 alone, data show. And a single overflow in 2022 released 750 million gallons of untreated wastewater into local waters. But those volumes remain far below the billions of annual gallons discharged in past decades, including when residents of The Valley and surrounding neighborhoods faced disastrous flooding.   

Peggy Falsetti, 75, has lived in The Valley for 48 years and recalls a time when children would play in standing water as the Menomonee River surged over its banks. 

“I remember waking up one morning and the water was all the way up to 39th Street,” she said.

After flooding in 1997 and 1998 damaged about 130 homes around The Valley, the sewerage district spent $12 million to build Valley Park. The department constructed a levee and floodwall where the park meets the Menomonee to protect local homes — one of several projects to curb the Menomonee’s flooding. 

Residents say the Valley Park project has worked to limit runoff. But they worry that widening the highway that looms overhead will reverse some of that progress. No one in the neighborhood will lose their home to the I-94 widening, but the roadway will grow closer to where residents live and play.

Neighborhood concerns about the project stretch beyond flooding. 

While taking a break from guiding neighborhood children through their park upkeep duties, Valley Park’s volunteer master naturalist, Ann Bowe, worried about how the expansion will affect the health of local children. Living near highways — and pollution from cars — can worsen heart and lung disease in kids and teens, according to the American Lung Association. 

“It’s bad enough that we have the freeways that we have here,” Bowe said, gesturing to the road. “But why are we going to spend, what, five years probably building more?”

Milwaukee residents fear more flooding due to planned I-94 expansion   is a post from Wisconsin Watch, a non-profit investigative news site covering Wisconsin since 2009. Please consider making a contribution to support our journalism.

News414 is a service journalism collaboration between Wisconsin Watch and Milwaukee Neighborhood News Service that addresses the specific issues, interests, perspectives and information needs identified by residents of central city Milwaukee neighborhoods. Learn more at our website or sign up for our texting service here.

Correction: A previous version of this story included an incorrect figure for the number of fatal Milwaukee police pursuits in 2023 and incorrect percentages of pursuits ending in injuries from 2007 to 2022.

At 1:06 a.m. on Aug. 1, 2019, Le’Quon McCoy was driving through a North Side Milwaukee intersection when the driver of a stolen Buick Encore ran a flashing red light and crashed into McCoy’s Jeep Renegade. 

The speeding driver, who was fleeing police, hit McCoy’s Jeep so hard that it bounced off a tree on one side of the road and into a parked car on the other side. McCoy, 19, died at the scene.

“He got off work around like 9 or 10 at night. He stopped here to see me,” his mother, Antoinette Broomfield recalled. “He told me he would be to see me the next day, and he was going to drop a friend off at home. And that’s the last time I heard from him.”

The death of McCoy — described as a warm, outgoing, “big teddy bear” with many friends — inflicted a still-unhealed wound, Broomfield said. 

A court sentenced Aaron Fitzgerald, the driver of the stolen Buick, to 10 years in prison and eight years of extended supervision related to McCoy’s death.

But Broomfield’s quest for accountability didn’t end there. She’s suing the city of Milwaukee and four officers who pursued Fitzgerald. Broomfield, whose attorney was present while she spoke to Wisconsin Watch and WPR, said the officers could have averted the tragedy by calling off a high-speed pursuit that spanned residential and commercial streets. 

Broomfield’s lawsuit, filed in March 2022, comes during a 20-fold surge of police chases in the years since Milwaukee loosened restrictions for pursuits — reaching an average of nearly three per day in 2022, according to Milwaukee Police Department records. 

The department engaged in 1,028 chases in 2022, up from 50 in 2012, according to data provided through an open records request. The 2021 tally was even higher: 1,078. It eclipsed all years since at least 2002, according to a 2019 Milwaukee Fire and Police Commission report.

The trend unfolds as Milwaukee grapples with a spike of reckless and deadly driving. 

More pursuits mean more chances of injuries to fleeing suspects, officers and other responders and third parties like McCoy who become unwittingly involved.

In 2022, for example, 132 pursuits injured at least one suspect, and 36 pursuits resulted in at least one third-party injury, data show. Officers faced injuries in five pursuits.

During more than 6,600 pursuits from 2007 to 2022, fleeing suspects were injured in 13% of pursuits, followed by third parties (4%) and officers (1%), according to an analysis of the 2019 Fire and Police Commission report and other data obtained by Wisconsin Watch and WPR. 

The toll of Milwaukee pursuits hasn’t ebbed this year. Four this year were recorded as fatal through June 26, the data show.

“There are good reasons not to permit the escape of dangerous criminals,” Broomfield’s lawsuit says. “But sometimes it is preferable to simply prolonging the danger to innocent motorists and pedestrians that occurs if a pursuit is not terminated.”

Milwaukee police pursuit data incomplete

Milwaukee’s full count of police pursuit casualties is unclear.

For example, although three people died last year when a pursued Toyota Avalon plunged off a bridge and erupted into flames, police records for that crash say it ended in “subject injury,” “violator death” and “third party injury.” One woman was hit and injured as the driver fled police, according to media reports.

Also not logged in the Fire and Police Commission report: instances of injuries occurring just after a pursuit was canceled.

Official police records often paint an incomplete picture of the impact of pursuits, said Jonathan Farris, chief advocate for the Wisconsin-based Pursuit for Change, which seeks to limit police pursuit casualties. Farris lost his son in 2007 when a driver fleeing a Massachusetts State Police trooper crashed into a cab his son was in, killing him and the cab driver.

Farris points to a 2015 USA Today investigation that found the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration significantly undercounted police pursuit deaths over several decades.

“Most of us who have been following this for a fair number of years have seen more than enough examples of pursuits that were not logged,” Farris said.

Milwaukee tightens, then loosens pursuit policy

The Milwaukee Police Department cites a nationwide surge in deadly driving as one of several factors leading to more police pursuits. Milwaukee’s loosened restrictions on pursuits have permitted officers to crack down on reckless driving and vehicle-based crimes in recent years, said Inspector Craig Sarnow, who has spent much of his 24-year department career in roles that monitor and investigate pursuits.  

“I can recall back to my time as a patrol sergeant, when the policy was more restrictive,” he said. “We used to have individuals that would try to bait Milwaukee police officers into getting into pursuits knowing full well that we couldn’t because our policy was so restrictive.”

But safety advocates say Milwaukee’s previous, more restrictive policy — adopted in 2010 under then-Chief Edward Flynn following a string of deadly pursuits — made progress that has since been erased. The policy allowed pursuits in narrower scenarios, generally when an officer had probable cause that a violent felony had occurred or was about to occur — or if someone posed a “clear and immediate threat to the safety of others.” 

Police under Flynn’s policy made fewer arrests related to pursuits compared to before the policy was implemented, but they also saw fewer pursuits ending in injuries.

A policy tweak in 2015 allowed police to pursue a vehicle if the vehicle was involved in a violent felony. That change allowed officers to pursue carjacked vehicles. Pursuits more than doubled that year, compared with 2014.

Milwaukee’s Fire and Police Commission in 2017 ordered Flynn to further loosen the policy, allowing pursuits in reckless driving cases, or when a car was linked to drug dealing. Pursuits in 2018 spiked to 940 from 369 the previous year. The number of pursuits ending in officer, suspect and/or third-party injury also swelled, with instances in each category more than tripling.

The public safety risk of pursuing those suspected of nonviolent crimes outweighs the risk from the violation itself, said Mark Priano, a board member with the advocacy nonprofit PursuitSAFETY. He lost his 15-year-old daughter in 2002 after a teenaged driver fleeing police ran a stop sign and struck the family’s minivan; she died a week later after slipping into a coma, according to media reports.

“These pursuit-related deaths or injuries are not accidents,” Priano said. “This was a planned event that could have been controlled.”

Safety advocates point to Milwaukee as an example of the consequences of rolling back a restrictive pursuit policy, said Geoffrey Alpert, a professor of criminology and criminal justice at the University of South Carolina and an expert in high-risk police activities.

“Cops like to chase. It’s exciting. It’s a fun thing to do,” he said. 

Alpert, who also sits on an advisory board for PursuitSAFETY, described the back-and-forth between Flynn and the Fire and Police Commission over pursuit policies and the ensuing surge in pursuit-related injuries as a “horror story.”

Pursuit reform often follows a cyclical pattern, Alpert said: more restrictive pursuit policies following injuries and deaths prove unpopular within police departments, prompting a return to the previous status quo.

Police call alternatives ‘practically impractical’

Companies are pitching to police a range of technologies aiming to reduce risky pursuits. They include high-tech GPS trackers, tire deflation tools and even a grappling device that might appear Batman-inspired — allowing an officer to entangle a fleeing vehicle to decelerate it.  

Milwaukee police in 2016 started attaching GPS tags to certain cars, allowing for tracking in lieu of a pursuit, but that was later discontinued. Neither that nor other methods worked as well as traditional pursuits, the department says. 

Before the Fire and Police Commission approved the latest version of Milwaukee’s pursuit policy last summer, one commissioner asked if alternatives existed to catch reckless drivers.

Nicholas DeSiato, the police department’s chief of staff, called nearly all alternatives “practically impractical.”

“They can be effective when appropriate, but it also requires incredible coordination and, sometimes, just dumb luck,” he said. “In terms of a hot pursuit, to effectively combat reckless driving, it’s a necessary tool.”

Priano of PursuitSAFETY acknowledged the need for police pursuits in certain situations. He advocates for restricting them to catch violent felony offenders — while finding other ways to deal with other reckless drivers.

As reckless driving persists, Sarnow doesn’t expect new restrictions on pursuits any time soon. But the department remains open to reviewing alternatives. 

“We’d be remiss if we didn’t revisit these things, because things change right?” Sarnow said. “And we have to make sure that we’re staying on the forefront.”

Fewer pursuits in Madison

Madison, Wisconsin’s second largest city, has limited police pursuits as Milwaukee’s number surges. The Madison Police Department logged just 20 pursuits in 2022, about 2% of Milwaukee’s count, records show.

Madison has just under half of Milwaukee’s population and has logged no more than 27 annual police pursuits since 2016, even amid leadership changes and local reckless driving challenges.

Madison police use a stricter pursuit policy than Milwaukee’s: Officers may initiate pursuits only when they have probable cause that a suspect is committing, has just committed or is about to commit a felony —– similar to Milwaukee’s former policy. A sergeant monitors the chase and can call it off. Additionally, officers must follow many traffic rules — including stopping at red lights and stop signs, Madison Police Chief Shon Barnes said.

The department also uses surveillance cameras and tire-deflating spike strips, Barnes said. If a suspect gets away, officers use detective work to locate them. 

Barnes, who years ago as a rookie drove his police cruiser through a fence and hit a tree during a pursuit on a rainy day (he was uninjured), said his department’s safety-focused culture leads to fewer pursuits.

“Anyone who thinks a pursuit is out of policy or not safe — if you stop that pursuit, no one will say anything about that,” he said. “Because you’re ultimately responsible for what happens with that vehicle.”

Still, Barnes doesn’t fault Milwaukee for pursuing more cars under its looser policy, suggesting that comparing Madison to Milwaukee is not apples to oranges. 

Milwaukee “may have more criminality, and we’re all dealing with the stolen car epidemic,” he said. “I think they’re trying to get a handle on it, just like we all are, and they’re doing what’s best for their community.”

“I wish it was all a dream”

The judge presiding over Broomfield’s suit has put the trial on indefinite hold, as both her attorneys and the city’s attorneys finish preparations. 

“There are police pursuits virtually every day of the week,” U.S. District Judge J.P. Stadtmueller said while presiding over a May pretrial hearing. “To suggest that each and every one of these cases exposes the officers to liability is very much an open question, at least in the mind of this judge.”

While Broomfield awaits the start of the trial, she’s trying to take care of her mental health, with regular trips to see a counselor. She is also getting support from her church congregation. Still, the pain persists.

“My husband ended up passing away from stress from a heart attack from just constantly being in pain and worrying about it,” she said. “My daughter, she’s not the same. She’s different. My son, he’s not the same. … Everybody is grieving.”

“Some days, I don’t even want to get out of bed,” she added. “Some days I just wake up and wish it all was a dream.”

Broomfield wants a more restrictive Milwaukee pursuit policy to prevent other families from feeling similar pain.

Her lawsuit isn’t about money, she said, and she also seeks accountability related to the pursuit that killed her son. 

“I know everybody makes mistakes,” she said through tears. “Why couldn’t I even just get an apology that it happened to my child?”

The nonprofit Wisconsin Watch (www.WisconsinWatch.org) collaborates with WPR, PBS Wisconsin, other news media and the University of Wisconsin-Madison School of Journalism and Mass Communication. All works created, published, posted or disseminated by Wisconsin Watch do not necessarily reflect the views or opinions of UW-Madison or any of its affiliates.

Hot pursuit: Milwaukee police chases now top 1,000 per year. Some prove deadly. is a post from Wisconsin Watch, a non-profit investigative news site covering Wisconsin since 2009. Please consider making a contribution to support our journalism.

“Antonio’s” daily commute to work could end with his family being torn apart. 

Antonio, not his real name, is among Wisconsin’s estimated 70,000 residents who lack permanent legal status. None of them is eligible for a driver’s license. It means they face legal risks — even the possibility of detention and deportation — whenever they take the wheel. That stirs anxiety extending to family, like Antonio’s daughter.  

“Once she sees the police, she freezes,” says Antonio, who has lived in the country since 2008 and asked to remain anonymous for fear of legal repercussions. “She’s starting to worry, because she knows my situation. And she’s like, ‘Oh, Dad, you have to drive carefully, because we don’t want the police to stop you.’ ”

It hasn’t always been this way in Wisconsin, which once provided a driver’s license pathway for residents who enter the country illegally. The state closed that path 16 years ago, leaving people like Antonio with few safe options for navigating a state with shrinking or non-existent public transit systems, especially in rural areas. Antonio, for instance, says a 30-minute car ride from Green Bay is the only viable way to commute to his job with a cabinet shop.

“I don’t even see any bus stations by my work, so I don’t think it’s a choice to go to my work by bus,” he says.  

Immigrant advocacy groups have spent years pushing to repeal Wisconsin’s ban on driver’s licenses for people who lack legal status, saying doing so is not only humane, but would expand the state’s tight labor force and boost public safety — an argument research in other states supports.

In his latest state budget proposal, Democratic Gov. Tony Evers is calling for doing just that, the third time he has tried to use the budgeting process to broaden driver’s license access. Removing the ban would pave the way for licensing as many as 32,000 residents in three years, Madison-based Kids Forward, a liberal-leaning advocacy group, estimated in 2018.

“In America’s Dairyland, immigrants are an essential part of our communities,” Evers said during his budget address in February. “Let’s make sure everyone can access driver’s licenses regardless of their citizenship status, so that workers can get from point A to point B, and we can make our roads safer, too.”

But the Republican-controlled Legislature has stripped that provision from two previous budgets it has sent for Evers’ signature, and it is likely to again do so this year. Republicans argue the state’s spending plan shouldn’t include non-fiscal proposals that merit debate through standalone legislation. 

“The driver’s license idea is just one idea among many ideas,” Sen. Howard Marklein, a Spring Green Republican who co-leads the Joint Finance Committee, said in a statement. “However, it is also a non-fiscal policy item. We will not be including most, if not all, non-fiscal policy in the state budget. This means that if an idea does not include funding, spending or tax reform, it should not be in the budget bill.” 

Standalone legislation in past years has failed to draw a hearing in Republican-controlled committees.

Still, as more states open licensing pathways for immigrant drivers who currently don’t qualify, advocates for Wisconsin immigrants — and farmers who employ some of them — hope to eventually see a breakthrough. 

“It’s a long battle,” says Primitivo Torres, deputy operations director of the advocacy group Voces de la Frontera, a key voice in Wisconsin’s “driver’s licenses for all” movement. “But it’s a battle that we’re willing to take on because of the need for our communities.” 

RealID Act led to ban 

The roots of Wisconsin’s current licensing law lie in federal immigration system changes adopted after the Sept. 11, 2001 terrorist attacks.

Following a recommendation from the federal 9/11 Commission, Congress in 2005 passed the RealID Act, which requires a RealID-compliant license to access certain facilities and resources — everything from boarding a flight or entering federal properties, such as federal courthouses or military bases.

That prompted legislatures to change state licensing policies to comply with the federal regulations. Following repeated delays, the law will be enforced starting May 7, 2025.

Wisconsin’s RealID law cleared the Republican-controlled Legislature in 2006 and took effect the next year, allowing only people who entered the country legally to obtain driver’s licenses. Then-Gov. Jim Doyle, a Democrat, reluctantly signed the law, which many legislative Democrats opposed. 

Despite questions about whether the federal government would provide enough funding for the changes, Doyle called the law necessary to “crack down on driver’s license fraud,” the Associated Press reported at the time. He also worried failing to comply with the federal law would have repercussions for every Wisconsinite with a driver’s license.

States reopen licensing pathways

Nineteen states and the District of Columbia have since permitted drivers to obtain driver’s authorization cards that don’t comply with the RealID Act. (Not all states refer to the cards as licenses.) While those cards can’t be used to board an airplane or enter certain federal facilities, drivers can use them to identify themselves during a traffic stop, or when applying for auto insurance.

Some of that legislation was bipartisan. Nevada passed its law when Democrats held the Legislature and a Republican was governor. The Utah Legislature, controlled by Republicans for more than three decades, enacted a provisional one-year driver’s card for residents lacking legal status in 2005.

Minnesota’s Democratic-controlled Legislature was the latest to approve “driver’s licenses for all” legislation, which Democratic Gov. Tim Walz signed this month.

Colorado requires such licenses to specify they are not valid for voting purposes, to limit the chances someone will use them to vote illegally — an idea Democrats in Wisconsin have proposed in the past. 

Wisconsin already issues a driver’s card that doesn’t comply with RealID. It includes a “not for federal purposes” disclaimer. But it still requires proof of legal residency. Evers’ proposal is sparse on details – it’s just one sentence in the 723-page spending plan.

Wisconsin’s legislative Republicans have previously argued loosening Wisconsin licensing requirements  would incentivize illegal immigration. 

“There’s a tendency to sometimes accept the fact that we have people here breaking the law,” Assembly Speaker Robin Vos said in 2009. Vos’ office did not return a request for a comment on Evers’ latest proposal.

Advocates: Licenses make streets safer

Advocates argue driver’s cards will increase street safety by requiring drivers to take a licensing exam — and by granting them identification to apply for auto insurance.

Connecticut saw 9% fewer hit-and-run accidents in the years after broadening driver’s license access, according to a report by the Massachusetts Budget and Policy Center, a Boston-based organization that researches and advocates for racial and economic justice. California reported a similar hit-and-run plunge. 

Similar changes in Utah and New Mexico spurred 80% and 60% drops respectively in uninsured drivers in those states, the report said. 

The Wisconsin Sheriffs and Deputy Sheriffs Association was among the few groups to publicly support the original ban on licenses for residents lacking permanent legal status. Now, it has no formal position but is “always open to discussions on how to make our roads safer in Wisconsin,” Sandra Schueller, the group’s business manager, said in an email. 

Wisconsin police leaders have criticized the ban in recent years. Alfonso Morales did so when he was the Milwaukee police chief. Now he is police chief in Fitchburg, Wisconsin. 

Madison Police Chief Shon Barnes also opposes the prohibition.

“We think it’s best when we can identify people,” Barnes said at a February press conference. “When we can identify people who may be victimized, or people who want to file a report, or people who want to experience the same rights and privileges that we all experience.”

Fears of encountering law enforcement 

Dave and Joyce Anderson co-founded the Immigration Task Force for JONAH Justice, an Eau Claire-based interfaith advocacy group. They’ve spent years facilitating conversations between immigrant Wisconsinites and law enforcement about driver’s licenses. When immigrants are cited for driving without a license, Dave says he’ll sometimes accompany them to court “just so they have someone in their corner.”

Fear of encountering law enforcement essentially creates “no-go” zones for some immigrants in and around Eau Claire, he says, particularly around the police station downtown. 

“I had one gentleman go, ‘Oh, this is what downtown looks like.’ And he had lived here a couple of years,” Dave says.

Such fears are heightened in eight Wisconsin counties that have signed what are known as 287(g) agreements with the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). Those agreements allow local and state law enforcement to act as ICE agents would in certain circumstances. That means sheriffs can — among other actions — detain people until ICE can take custody and prepare documents for their potential removal, according to the American Immigration Council. 

An officer’s specific authority depends on the type of 287(g) agreement — either a jail enforcement or warrant service officer model. According to the Congressional Research Service, officers in the warrant model can execute warrants only for immigrants ICE has already flagged for potential removal. In the wider jail enforcement model, officers can conduct interviews to determine a person’s immigration status, check that information against a federal database and issue warrants and detainers.

The eight 287(g) Wisconsin sheriff’s offices are in: Brown, Fond du Lac, Lafayette, Manitowoc, Marquette, Sheboygan, Waukesha and Waushara counties. Waukesha County has Wisconsin’s only jail enforcement model. The other counties have warrant agreements.

Both types of agreement allow officers to process undocumented immigrants only once they’re in custody. In Wisconsin, first offenders caught driving without a license face a fine of up to $200. Repeat offenses could mean incarceration — and, for those without legal status, potentially being flagged to ICE.

Farmers ‘at the forefront’ of advocacy 

Torres of Voces de la Frontera says his group is shoring up rural support for expanding driver’s license access. Farmers, he says, are speaking with conservative lawmakers in rural districts. 

“Most of these farmers that we’ve talked to are Republican,” Torres says. “But they see a need…. This is a way for them to have workers and to get the work done on these family farms.”

Many sectors of the American economy have faced worker shortages in recent years, including in aging Wisconsin, where birth rates and migration are low. That’s a particular challenge for farms.  

Immigrants in 2019 made up more than half of all hired U.S. farm laborers, and nearly a third of all farm laborers arrived to the country illegally, according to the bipartisan think tank New American Economy.

These immigrants provide the backbone of Wisconsin’s dairy industry, and expanding driver’s license access would help them feel more secure, says Michael Slattery, a diversified grain, vegetable and cattle farmer in the Manitowoc County village of Maribel, who serves on the Wisconsin Farmers Union board.

“We need to get our people to and from work,” he says. “They’re coming out at four o’clock in the morning. We cannot get anyone else to come out to be defecated upon, to be urinated upon, to be kicked, to feed the calves, to clean the barns — it’s just impossible. And we are attempting to pay a living wage to them.”

Slattery adds: “The undocumented who are doing this work — they’re our neighbors. …The driver’s card brings them out of the shadows and makes them a part of our communities.”

The powerful Dairy Business Association lists “driver’s permits for eligible non-citizens” as a legislative priority. But, Chad Zuleger, its director of government affairs, says it’s focusing energy elsewhere.

“Driver permitting remains a priority for DBA,” Zuegler wrote in an email. “However, the Legislature has indicated that they do not plan to include policy initiatives in the budget process.”

Appealing to the Legislature 

Republicans on the Joint Finance Committee stripped nearly 400 items — including the repeal of the driver’s license prohibition —from Evers’s last budget proposal. 

Marklein, the committee co-chair, says budgeting will look similar this year. 

“Non-fiscal policy deserves open discussion, public hearings, committee votes and floor debate. It should not be tucked into a spending document,” he says. 

The Rev. Cindy Crane, executive director of the Lutheran Office for Public Policy in Wisconsin, doubts the licensing measure will pass in a budget. 

“I think that if we could influence a Republican legislator to take it on to champion it, then it might have some momentum,” says Crane, whose group was one of the earliest backers of Wisconsin’s “driver’s licenses for all” movement.

Although Republicans have yet to publicly back legislation, they are increasingly willing to discuss such the idea in private, Rep. Sylvia-Ortiz Velez, D-Milwaukee, told reporters in February. 

 “So I’m encouraged by that,” she said. 

But for now, thousands of immigrant drivers will continue their precarious commutes. While advocates cite safety and workforce drawbacks, they are just as quick to highlight the personal impacts of the licensing obstacle. 

“We talk to a lot of these families, and they don’t know — when they leave their houses — if they’re going to make it back,” Torres says. “And their only crime is to be in this country without documents. These people are folks who are just staying under the radar to provide for their families.”

The nonprofit Wisconsin Watch (www.WisconsinWatch.org) collaborates with Milwaukee Neighborhood News Service, WPR, PBS Wisconsin, other news media and the University of Wisconsin-Madison School of Journalism and Mass Communication. All works created, published, posted or disseminated by Wisconsin Watch do not necessarily reflect the views or opinions of UW-Madison or any of its affiliates.

‘Driver’s licenses for all:’ Why some advocates call for expanding access in Wisconsin is a post from Wisconsin Watch, a non-profit investigative news site covering Wisconsin since 2009. Please consider making a contribution to support our journalism.

This story was produced as part of the NEW (Northeast Wisconsin) News Lab, a consortium of six news outlets covering northeastern Wisconsin.

Wisconsin Watch is a member of the network. Subscribe to our newsletter to get our investigative stories and Friday news roundup.

Listen to Jonah Chester report on this story for WPR.

On an unseasonably warm October morning in northeastern Wisconsin, Steve Maricque crisscrosses Brown County in a gray minivan. Orange-red foliage draws the gaze of passengers as overnight rain gives way to clear skies.

A smart tablet guides Maricque along his route. A dispatcher occasionally radios in a request for another pickup, which he adds to his queue when there’s time.  

“This first guy had heart surgery, and he’s doing rehab,” Maricque says as he runs through his passenger manifest. 

Gregarious and outgoing, Maricque enjoys getting to know passengers. All are elderly or have a medical issue that prevents them from driving. Knowing in advance who needs special assistance, including help getting from their door to the car, can make a ride smoother.

Maricque, 66, is a volunteer driver with the nonprofit Curative Connections, which serves folks with disabilities and the elderly, including transporting them to medical appointments and other important stops. It charges $4 for a one-way trip within a service area that includes Green Bay and surrounding towns and villages. 

The nonprofit is part of a fractured transportation system for Brown County’s non-drivers. That includes Green Bay Metro’s traditional busing and door-to-door services in the metro area.

Those services will become more important as Brown County’s population, like much of Wisconsin, increasingly skews older and less mobile. But a host of challenges threaten their viability. 

Curative Connections, for instance, has lost about half of the drivers who volunteered before the pandemic. The need to pay additional drivers and inflation have strained the nonprofit’s budget and forced service cuts.  

Green Bay Metro, like public transit systems across Wisconsin, faces a years-long slide in ridership and revenue that only worsened as remote work options expanded during the pandemic. In August 2020, the transit system launched an on-demand micro-transit service, aiming to plug gaps in its fixed-route service. The new service complements the transit agency’s pre-existing paratransit program for residents with disabilities.

As traditional bus services struggle, advocates for people with disabilities welcome on-demand options but say they fall short in meeting needs for Wisconsinites who don’t drive. 

An influx of federal pandemic aid should help stabilize Green Bay Metro’s systems, but only temporarily, officials say. 

“One thing that we are really clearly understanding and accepting is that transportation as a whole has changed since the pandemic,” says Patty Kiewiz, Green Bay Metro transit director.

Getting around in graying Wisconsin

Maricque is a life-long Brown County resident. After retiring from the Bellin Health Foundation in October 2021, he immediately volunteered to drive for Curative Connections.

With a WPR/Wisconsin Watch reporter riding along, Maricque departs the Curative Connections office around noon on a Monday and pulls into his first passenger’s driveway 10 minutes later. Todd Destiche slides into the passenger side back seat. 

Destiche says his wife previously drove him to cardiac rehab, but back problems now limit her mobility. Destiche’s heart issues prevent him from driving, he explains, but he’s pleased with the service from Curative Connections. 

“They do a great job,” he says. “You can’t ask for better, (the drivers) drop you off at the door and pick you up at the door.”

Destiche pauses. 

“And most of them are nice,” he jokes, prompting Maricque to chuckle.

As a retiree, Destiche is part of a growing demographic in Brown County that is more likely to need help getting to doctor’s appointments, work or social events. 

Brown County’s population of residents 65 and older topped 42,000 in 2021 — increasing  roughly 50% from 2010, according to the U.S. Census Bureau. 

The trend is unfolding across Wisconsin as Baby Boomers age and birth rates remain low. The state Department of Administration expects the population of 65-plus Wisconsinites to grow by nearly 500,000 by 2040 and comprise nearly a quarter of the total population, up from 14% in 2010. That’s based upon the agency’s most recent analysis of census data in 2013. 

Nearby family members can shuttle around some seniors, but that’s hardly the case for everyone. 

“A lot of the elderly in the area — nowadays their kids move away and they don’t have someone to get them to where they need to go,” Maricque says. “My parents were fortunate that their kids,  three out of the five, lived locally, so we could help support them as they aged.”

Unhealthy transportation barriers

At one stop, Maricque hops out of the van to meet Kathy Koch at the front door of the house where she has lived for more than half a century.  

Gripping a walker, the 79-year-old makes her way down a front porch ramp. Maricque helps her into the van’s back seat. 

Koch is heading to the dentist, just a 10-minute trip by car. Without specialized transportation, she would face a range of logistical hurdles. Curative Connections is essentially the “only way I can get around,” she says.

“I need somebody to get me around, and my husband’s been dead for a while. To ask the children it’s difficult, because they all work, and the grandchildren all work,” she explains. 

While some younger people with disabilities rely on Curative Connections for rides to work, medical transportation is among the biggest gaps that Curative Connections fills. 

A lack of reliable transportation access caused 5.8 million Americans to delay health care in 2017, according to an analysis of National Health Interview Survey data. Seniors, people with chronic illnesses or disabilities, women and people of color faced the highest transportation burdens, the analysis found.

Those barriers may worsen chronic illnesses, long-term health and the psychological impact of isolation. 

While distancing policies reduced COVID-19 transmission among vulnerable seniors earlier in the pandemic, they also worsened feelings of isolation. And even before COVID-19, roughly a quarter of older Americans were considered socially isolated, increasing the risks of loneliness and related health issues.  

Many of Maricque’s passengers — like Koch — struggle to leave home without assistance. The rides might offer some of their only in-person interactions for a week.

“I love human contact,” Koch says as Maricque pulls up near the door of her dentist’s office and helps her out of the van. “It doesn’t happen very often.” 

As Koch slides out of the seat and grabs the handles of her walker, she looks back.

“Every (driver) I get is pretty okay,” she says with a laugh.

They continue chatting as Maricque slides the door closed and helps her into the office.

Home health care shortage affects transportation 

Maricque does his best to help their passengers with mobility issues get to and from a vehicle. But liability risks limit how far drivers can extend that help. Maricque’s role begins and ends at the threshold of a passenger’s home.

Some people with mobility issues struggle to get a few dozen feet to their doors. That’s where a home health care provider might step in. 

But like the rest of the country, Wisconsin faces a critical shortage of long-term caregivers in homes and assisted-living facilities. 

“Folks are wanting to stay in their homes longer,” says Mary Schlautman, the information and assistance coordinator with the Aging and Disability Resource Center of Brown County.

That shortage poses a serious transportation challenge for seniors. If someone can’t make it to the door, drivers for Curative Connections, other nonprofits or Green Bay Metro can’t pick them up. 

“People need assistance,” Schlautman says. “Somebody to be there to get them to their wheelchair, to the door, and then the transportation provider will load them onto the van or into the vehicle.”

Shifts in services

Earlier in his career, Maricque spent 10  years leading the American Red Cross Northeast Wisconsin Chapter, which serves 13 Wisconsin counties, the Oneida Nation and parts of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. The Red Cross previously operated a larger version of the Curative Connections transportation model, which Maricque says included nearby Door County.

But leadership change shifted Red Cross’ priorities, prompting the northeast chapter to cut the transportation service in 2015 in favor of “core competencies” like disaster relief, Maricque says. 

Maricque recalls fighting to retain the service. Curative Connections, a smaller nonprofit that shares a building with the Green Bay Red Cross chapter, took over the project. 

Just a handful of local organizations offer specialized transportation for seniors and people with disabilities, according to the Aging and Disability Resource Center of Brown County. 

Those services face a host of challenges.

Funding, workforce hurdles

As of late October, Curative Connections was down to about 52 volunteer drivers, about half the pre-pandemic total, says Tina Whetung, director of transportation for the nonprofit. She says many volunteers who left at the start of the pandemic never came back, a trend that played out at volunteer-powered nonprofits nationwide in 2020. 

As a result, Whetung estimates the organization provided 30% fewer rides in 2022 compared to 2019.

Trying to offset the drop in volunteers, Curative Connections hired new paid drivers. Those costs and surging gas prices caused a $40,000 budget shortfall, Whetung says. The nonprofit responded by attracting new donations, hiking fees from $3 to $4 and cutting a staff position. 

Still, Whetung expected the organization to wind up “in the hole” for 2022.

Green Bay Metro’s pre-existing paratransit service and new micro-transit service function similarly to Curative Connections: Riders call ahead of time, and they’re picked up at a specific location instead of a bus stop.

The service aims to fill gaps after Green Bay’s traditional bus ridership dropped by more than 60% in a recent two-year period — from nearly 1.3 million rides in 2019 to about 495,000 in 2021. That pushed the department to consolidate routes, increasing bus frequency but limiting range, Kiewiz says. 

“One of the things that we’re always wanting to do is to expand services and reach areas that we’re not able to,” she says. “That’s a struggle with your traditional fixed-route system. I think looking at other modes of transportation, like on-demand type services, allows us to do that.”

As part of that shift, Green Bay Metro plans to shave hours off its Monday to Saturday service in 2023. “GBM on Demand”, Green Bay Metro’s micro-transit service, would expand to cover that gap. 

Solutions sought for non-drivers

While useful in certain situations, government-operated on-demand services remain imperfect, says Tamara Jackson, public policy analyst and legislative liaison for the Wisconsin Board for People with Developmental Disabilities and a co-chair of the state’s Non-Driver Advisory Committee.

“There is no silver bullet here. There are a number of places that are trying to do on-demand service, and I think that gets at some challenges people have,” she says. “But it doesn’t necessarily solve some of the regional challenges and land use planning challenges that impact non-drivers.”

Some passengers struggle with affordability and scheduling, Jackson says. And many on-demand services struggle in rural areas and operate in a limited range. 

Green Bay Metro’s on-demand services run during limited hours and operate mostly within the boundaries of its busing area. Curative Connections operates throughout Brown County but centers operations in and around Green Bay. It seeks volunteers to add more rural services, says Whetung. 

Slipping bus ridership, revenue

Wisconsin’s local transportation systems face a difficult financial future. 

The state’s nine largest metro transit systems, including Green Bay’s, saw ridership plummet from 48.5 million in 2019 to 22.6 million in 2021. 

While transportation officials largely blame the pandemic for that drop, ridership began declining more than a decade earlier. The nine systems provided 72 million rides in 2007, according to the nonpartisan Wisconsin Policy Forum. 

Declining gas prices, a strong economy, the rise of app-based ride-sharing, reduced transit service and the shift to working from home decreased ridership, according to a 2021 Wisconsin Legislative Fiscal Bureau report. 

Meanwhile, the state is investing less in local transit projects. Excluding special funding for paratransit and tribal transit, the state spent about $72 million in mass transit operating aid in 2022 — nearly 40% less than in 2021. It’s the lowest funding level in more than a decade.

The state uses separate pools to fund transportation for older residents and those with disabilities. The largest pool flows to county governments. At $16 million, it’s higher than a decade ago ($13.6 million) but stagnant since 2019. 

Kiewiz says  new federal infrastructure funding and pandemic aid has filled some gaps. But it’s not a perfect fix. 

“I think the next few years here, we’ll be in a much better position than we have been,” she says. “But you know, that’s also something you need to be careful of. That’s really kind of one-time money. What are we going to do in a couple of years?”

Wisconsin’s Non-Driver Advisory Committee, established in 2020 and coordinated by the Department of Transportation, is considering measures to gauge how well communities address non-driver needs. 

“This is the beginning of a long conversation about how (we’re) thinking about transportation for people who are not necessarily drivers,” Jackson says.

‘I see the impact’

Maricque sits at a table in the Curative Connections main office as other volunteers and staff members buzz around him. He sees himself as more than just a driver. 

“I see the impact every time I drive on the individuals I’m serving,” he says.

His aim to serve the community guided his work at the Red Cross and Bellin Health and prompted him to volunteer with Curative Connections just days into his retirement.  

“I’ve learned that there are life lessons you learn from the elderly,” he says. “It gives me fulfillment to be able to understand their stories and to be able to help them continue to lead as much of a normal life as they can.”

How to schedule a ride or volunteer to drive in Brown County

Curative Connections serves Brown County residents ages 60 and older and people under 60 with disabilities. All riders must apply in advance before booking rides. Find application forms and submission instructions at curativeconnections.org.

Prospective volunteer drivers can call Curative Connections at 920-227-4272 or apply online. 

“They can ride with one of our driver trainers, they don’t have to commit to anything, and just see what it’s like,” says Whetung. “If it’s something that works for them, great. We’ll go on to the next step. If not, we say thank you for your time.”

In addition to its Americans with Disabilities Act-compliant fixed-route bus line, Green Bay Metro offers a paratransit and micro-transit service — both of which function similarly to Curative Connections’ operation. 

The paratransit service requires pre-approval. Find application instructions on the transit agency’s website. Access the micro-transit service, GBM on Demand, by using an iOS or Android app, or by phone, 920-448-3185. It offers wheelchair-accessible vehicles and functions similarly to ride-hailing apps like Uber and Lyft.

— Jonah Chester 

The nonprofit Wisconsin Watch (www.WisconsinWatch.org) collaborates with Milwaukee Neighborhood News Service, WPR, PBS Wisconsin, other news media and the University of Wisconsin-Madison School of Journalism and Mass Communication. All works created, published, posted or disseminated by Wisconsin Watch do not necessarily reflect the views or opinions of UW-Madison or any of its affiliates.

Wisconsin’s population is trending older. Where will non-drivers find transportation?  is a post from Wisconsin Watch, a non-profit investigative news site covering Wisconsin since 2009. Please consider making a contribution to support our journalism.

This story was produced as part of the NEW (Northeast Wisconsin) News Lab, a consortium of six news outlets covering northeastern Wisconsin.

Wisconsin Watch is a member of the network. Subscribe to our newsletter to get our investigative stories and Friday news roundup.

Ashley Duquaine has just gotten off her shift and is en route to a bowling alley. At 34, she’s one of the younger folks on Steve Maricque’s route on an October day. Maricque is a volunteer driver for Curative Connections, a Green Bay nonprofit that provides transportation for the elderly and people with disabilities.

Duquaine is a regular. She uses the service four days each week, mostly to get to work. A disability prevents her from driving, and she doesn’t know of other options to help her get around town. 

“I don’t know how to drive,” she says. Her mom teaches at a local school and can’t drive her during the work day. “So this is a big help for me. I thank them every time, and I appreciate them a lot.”

While Duquaine has found reliable transportation, many other Wisconsinites with disabilities lack options. 

In 2018, 59% of respondents to a Survival Coalition of Wisconsin Disability Organizations survey reported that a lack of suitable public transportation limited their ability to find and keep a job.

“For those of us that cannot drive, we lose our independence,” says Denise Jess, executive director of the Wisconsin Council of the Blind and Visually Impaired and a co-chair of the Wisconsin Department of Transportation’s Non-Driver Advisory Committee. “It places limitations on what kinds of jobs we apply for.”

Jess, who is legally blind, has experienced such barriers as one of the 31% of Wisconsinites (including children) who don’t drive. Driving barriers for adults limit the size and flexibility of the state’s workforce. That doesn’t help employers who face a long-term labor crunch largely shaped by Wisconsin’s aging ​​demographics and a lack of migration. 

“We have a worker quantity shortage,” says Amy Pechacek, secretary-designee of the Wisconsin Department of Workforce Development, which administers several programs to assist people with disabilities looking for work.

“With a tight labor market, we really need to make sure that all of those folks who are facing some type of resource barrier get the wraparound services they need, so that we can engage everyone in the labor force who wants to be working,” Pechacek says.

While the Americans with Disabilities Act has made public transportation more accessible over the past three decades, significant gaps remain. Wisconsin’s major public transportation systems have shrunk coverage due to declining ridership and revenue. As a result, fewer people, including those with disabilities, live in areas where they can easily catch a bus. 

“Our state has really been built with the driver and the car in mind,” Jess says. “This is particularly true in rural areas where the transportation options are much more scarce.”

Ride-sharing services like Uber often fill needs in communities that lack accessible public transportation. But ride-sharing services are growing more expensive, and the companies have argued that their cars — which are personal vehicles, instead of company-owned taxi cabs — need not comply with federal disability law.

And earlier this summer, Uber settled a lawsuit with the U.S. Department of Justice for overcharging folks with disabilities. The company promised “several million dollars in compensation” to more than 65,000 Uber users who were charged discriminatory wait time fees, according to the Department of Justice. 

Uber has unveiled new accessibility features in recent years, including its Uber WAV (Wheelchair-Accessible Vehicle) service designed for those with mobility disabilities. While imperfect, Jess says, rideshare companies could help meet the demands of workers with disabilities — provided any public-private partnerships are closely regulated.

The state’s Non-Driver Advisory Committee, established in 2020, is examining how public transportation systems can better serve people with disabilities. Dramatic overhauls are unlikely to happen soon, but listening to people with disabilities will help, Jess says. 

“Creating opportunities for non-drivers to be at the table in the decision making processes at the local and state level is vital,” she says. 

Wisconsin workers with disabilities face transportation barriers   is a post from Wisconsin Watch, a non-profit investigative news site covering Wisconsin since 2009. Please consider making a contribution to support our journalism.

Tristain Thomas remembers seeing plenty of reckless driving while living along Milwaukee’s West Fond du Lac Avenue during his childhood. A police officer would park just blocks away from Thomas’ home in the Grasslyn Manor neighborhood to catch drivers barreling down the four-lane state highway.

“He would sit there for eight to 10 hours every day, pulling people over constantly, because they’re just flying down the street with no regard for anyone else,” Thomas, 40, recalled. 

Thomas now lives in Appleton, Wisconsin, but the reckless driving hasn’t stopped along West Fond du Lac Avenue, which doubles as State Highway 145 as it runs through Milwaukee. Thomas lost his sister because of it.

On the morning of March 12, Dwynetta Thomas, of Sheboygan, was driving down the urban highway and tried to turn left onto Congress Street — roughly a mile from her and Tristain’s childhood home. That’s when a silver Volvo slammed into Dwynetta’s red Chevrolet Cobalt, killing her. Speed appeared to be a factor, according to the crash report, and the Volvo’s driver, who suffered minor injuries, was charged with driving with a revoked license and causing a death. 

“She did so much for so many people,” Tristain said of his 43-year-old sister. “The day she was killed she was actually dropping someone off at a store. So I think it’s apropos that she was out helping someone and then that happened. She was definitely loved.”

At least 397 people have died on Wisconsin’s roads and highways in 2022 as of Sept. 11, according to preliminary data from the Wisconsin Department of Transportation (WisDOT). That’s more than the 388 fatalities logged at that point in 2021, which was the deadliest year on Wisconsin’s roads since 2017.

Reckless driving disproportionately affects Black residents in the deeply segregated state — particularly in Milwaukee.

‘Connecting highways’ eyed

Although much of Tristain’s family has left Milwaukee, they continue to discuss how to make Fond du Lac Avenue safer. Aside from wanting stiffer penalties for reckless drivers — which is part of Mayor Cavalier Johnson’s road safety initiatives — Tristain wonders why Fond du Lac Avenue hasn’t been redesigned to prioritize safety, and why it looks “exactly the same” as it did in his youth.  

“I know they have design changes downtown … where they’re going to make it more bicycle-friendly and pedestrian-friendly,” he said. “And I’m like: ‘Cool, great. Do the same thing for Fond du Lac. Do the same thing for Capitol, where it’s actually needed.’ ” Capitol Drive is another state highway cutting through the city’s northwest side.

As traffic deaths mount in Wisconsin, officials in Milwaukee, Madison and other cities are having similar discussions. Cities are taking multi-pronged approaches to making roads safer for the motorists, pedestrians and bicyclists who share them. That includes lowering speed limits, tightening enforcement and reengineering roads. 

But their options are limited on what WisDOT calls “connecting highways” like Fond du Lac Avenue and Capitol Drive —  state highways that run through towns and cities that can be particularly dangerous.

On state highways, including urban stretches, WisDOT gets the final say on any plans to narrow lanes, add concrete bump-outs to protect pedestrians or add other traffic-calming infrastructure. But WisDOT largely prioritizes smoothly flowing traffic for drivers. That focus complicates efforts to bolster safety in the neighborhoods that drivers speed through, according to city officials and grassroots advocates.

Fond du Lac Avenue runs northwest from downtown Milwaukee. Capitol Drive, part of State Highway 190, runs east-west and intersects with Fond du Lac Avenue. 

At least 42 people, including Dwynetta Thomas, died in traffic collisions along the two Milwaukee highway stretches from January 2017 to July 2022, according to a WPR/Wisconsin Watch analysis of preliminary police crash reports compiled by WisDOT and the University of Wisconsin-Madison. 

That’s about 11% of the city of Milwaukee’s 381 total traffic fatalities during that period. The analysis did not include more recent crashes on Fond du Lac Avenue that killed a 71-year-old driver and a 36-year-old pedestrian, according to media reports. 

In 2017, 18 of Milwaukee’s 25 most crash-prone intersections (72%) sat on or near connecting highways. Of those top 25 high-crash intersections, 16 were on or near Fond du Lac Avenue or Capitol Drive, according to a report by the city Department of Public Works and Police Department. 

Jordan Morales, vice president of the Sherman Park Community Association, has become one of Milwaukee’s loudest proponents of safer streets out of concern for his five children. He says state bureaucracy has stymied solutions along Capitol Drive and Fond du Lac Avenue, which he calls Milwaukee’s most deadly corridors.

Getting state funds or permission to calm traffic on the corridor is difficult, Morales says. “That is definitely a huge challenge that we have with reducing fatal car crashes in the city.”

A mismatch between WisDOT’s car-centric priorities and the diverse transportation needs of residents in cities persists statewide, says Gregg May, transportation policy director for the transportation and environmental advocacy group 1000 Friends of Wisconsin. 

“It’s one of the big challenges we face as biking, walking and transit advocates,” May says. “The DOT has their own set of priorities, which can run counter to the adjacent communities to which these urban highways run. It’s an incredible challenge, trying to get them to think differently about implementing more walking, biking and safety options.”

Stephen Flottmeyer is the planning chief for WisDOT’s southwestern region. He says the agency considers the needs of all road users when weighing new projects, and it often follows the lead of local transportation agencies.

He says the department recognizes the “competing needs” between road users along connecting highways. But he acknowledges WisDOT typically approaches rural and urban highways with the same set of goals, including traffic flow.

“The only difference, within the connecting highways, is the city plays a much bigger part in the conversation,” Flottmeyer says.

City-state collaborations  

Johnson represented parts of Milwaukee’s northwest side on the city’s Common Council before being sworn in as mayor in December 2021. He says “traffic and unsafe driving conditions” on Capitol Drive kept constituents south of the highway from crossing over to shop at the Midtown Center Pick ‘n Save — effectively limiting their grocery options.  

“That’s unacceptable,” Johnson told WPR and Wisconsin Watch. 

One of Johnson’s first acts as mayor included declaring reckless driving a public safety crisis and releasing a plan that includes redesigning roads, increasing enforcement and penalties and towing unregistered vehicles linked to reckless driving. This summer, the city began an initiative to sue repeat reckless driving offenders. He built upon Milwaukee’s Complete Streets framework, which details how city officials should balance the needs of cyclists, motorists and pedestrians. 

But many of those plans depend upon collaboration with WisDOT, Johnson says. He adds that the state agency has supported the anti-reckless driving push and is allowing the city to add concrete bumps outs —  curb extensions into parking lanes to narrow pedestrian crossings  — along connecting highways. The bump-outs also prevent drivers from veering into parking lanes to pass cars on the right — a dangerous maneuver that some call the “Milwaukee Slide.”  

WisDOT also permitted the city to build concrete “refuge islands” to help pedestrians safely cross one short stretch of Fond du Lac Avenue.

“We’ve got to work to make sure the environment is safe for all users of the roadways, especially folks in their own neighborhoods who are simply trying to go to the store, drop their kids off at school or get their prescription drugs,” Johnson says.

Jerrel Kruschke, Milwaukee’s interim commissioner of public works, says the city-state collaboration has been “going in the right direction over the past few years” with WisDOT “starting to understand the needs that we have in the city.” 

Still, strict WisDOT guidelines have blocked more ambitious city efforts to slow down traffic by narrowing or eliminating some lanes on connecting highways, Kruschke says. The process unfolds as a negotiation in which Milwaukee’s Complete Streets framework often conflicts with state standards. 

WisDOT’s approach works more smoothly in rural communities where motorists alone use the road, says Chris McCahill, managing director of the State Smart Transportation Initiative, a project of the UW-Madison and Smart Growth America that connects state transportation departments. Urban highways are trickier as bicyclists and pedestrians share space with drivers trying to get across town quickly.  

“Traditionally, they’re (WisDOT) highway builders, and they’re good at that. Then you have folks coming from a city perspective, or a town perspective, whose interests are often the complete opposite of that,” says McCahill, who is also a member of Madison’s Transportation Policy and Planning Board.

Compromising in Madison 

In Madison, WisDOT approved lower speed limits in 2020 along East Washington Avenue, a portion of State Highway 151 that cuts through the isthmus and is popular for drag racers. The change dropped the speed limit to 25 miles per hour in some parts of the East Wash, down from 35 mph.

From January 2017 to July 2022, seven of Madison’s 61 traffic fatalities (11%) occurred on the connecting highway portion of East Washington, and 18 deaths (nearly 30%) occurred across all connecting highways in the city. In 2020, nine of Madison’s 25 highest-crash intersections (36%) sat on or near a connecting highway, according to a report by the city’s Traffic Engineering Division.

WisDOT’s lane restrictions require Madison to compromise as it prepares to launch its  east-west Bus Rapid Transit line along the state highway. The state will allow for designated bus lanes, but only if general traffic can use them during rush hour to reduce congestion, says Tom Lynch, Madison’s transportation director.

“We probably would have preferred to have kept the bus lanes during the rush hour,” Lynch says. “But this is one of the compromises we made so that we could use East Washington for Bus Rapid Transit.”

City leaders have pitched the rapid transit line as a major tool to combat traffic congestion in fast-growing Madison.

Any significant shift from cars to bus traffic could limit road fatalities. In 2020, the national death rate per 100 million passenger miles was 28 times higher for car occupants than bus riders, according to data compiled by the National Safety Council, a nonprofit advocacy group.

Call for more resident input

In seeking to discourage reckless driving along state highways, governments should prioritize the needs of residents most impacted, says Jake Newborn, assistant director of the Bicycle Federation of Wisconsin.

That would include making public meetings more accessible, he says. While Milwaukee’s alders accept emailed comments on traffic concerns and new transportation projects at any hour, the Common Council and its committees typically hold meetings on weekday mornings and afternoons — when most people are at work. Madison’s Common Council has similar practices, although its meetings typically happen during the evening, after many people get off work.

WisDOT has detailed standards for public engagement on its projects, and the department recommends holding public involvement meetings during evening hours to avoid work conflicts with community members. But Newborn says it often feels like state and local officials don’t actually take the community’s input into account.

“They’re run in a fashion that is meant, I believe, to get limited actual engagement from people,” Newborn says of the meetings. “We do these stakeholder and public input meetings and then they just go and do what they were going to do anyway. And how much of that input is actually taken into account?”

The Milwaukee Common Council has approved rebuilding a 0.6-mile portion of Fond du Lac Avenue. The current plan doesn’t call for major design updates, David Tapia, a city Department of Public Works project manager, told the public works committee in September. But the project will include a public comment period that could influence the result

Ald. Russell Stamper told the committee that his constituents along that highway stretch want safety improvements.  

Construction is tentatively planned for 2026. 

‘A gigantic loss for our family’

Meanwhile, Tristain Thomas’ family continues to grieve Dwynetta’s death. 

“It’s still incredibly hard to believe she isn’t here,” he says. “We’ll have a messenger call where everybody’s got their video cameras on, and we’re looking at each other, and you’re waiting for her to come one and it’s like, ‘Oh, she’s not. She’s not coming on anymore.’ ”

DaJohn Norwood, the driver who crashed into Dwynetta Thomas, was arrested and charged with knowingly operating a vehicle without a license, causing death. Norwood was also pulled over in 2021 while operating without a license, according to a criminal complaint. A judge accepted his guilty plea, and his sentencing hearing is scheduled for November.

Dwynetta is survived by her adult son and daughter and four siblings, including Tristain. 

“It’s a gigantic loss for our family. It’s a gigantic loss for the community she served,” Tristain says. “And we just have to make sure nobody else’s bright light gets snuffed out.”

The nonprofit Wisconsin Watch (www.WisconsinWatch.org) collaborates with Milwaukee Neighborhood News Service, WPR, PBS Wisconsin, other news media and the University of Wisconsin-Madison School of Journalism and Mass Communication. All works created, published, posted or disseminated by Wisconsin Watch do not necessarily reflect the views or opinions of UW-Madison or any of its affiliates.

Bureaucracy is a barrier as Wisconsin cities try to curb deadly driving on urban highways is a post from Wisconsin Watch, a non-profit investigative news site covering Wisconsin since 2009. Please consider making a contribution to support our journalism.