Today we’d like to introduce you to Micki Harris
Hi Micki, we’re thrilled to have a chance to learn your story today. So, before we get into specifics, maybe you can briefly walk us through how you got to where you are today?
My family has endured the heartbreak of losing two loved ones—tragedies that could have been prevented.
Two years ago, my sister-in-law Jocelyn was hit and killed while riding her bike. The driver, distracted on her phone while making a left turn, didn’t see her. Jocelyn was rushed to the hospital, and as her family, we clung to hope. My brother-in-law, Tom, called with limited information, trying to reassure us that she might be okay. I tried to lighten the mood, joking, “Well, she better get a new bike after this!” In our family of avid cyclists, finding a reason to upgrade a bike was always a silver lining.
At the same time, we were arranging meals and schedules, thinking we’d be nursing her back to health from a few cracked ribs or broken bones. That’s what we do when someone is hit by a car—we convince ourselves it’s survivable. We perform the mental gymnastics of hope, telling ourselves they’ll be fine. And then, we lose them.
After 12 hours of observation, Jocelyn underwent surgery to repair her spleen. But when doctors tried to wake her, they discovered she had suffered severe, repeated strokes. My husband rushed to his brother’s side as they faced the unimaginable decision to remove her from life support. Jocelyn, a mother of five and an extraordinary athlete who had summited 52 of Colorado’s 58 fourteeners, was gone. She was so strong that even after being taken off life support, it took nine and a half hours for her heart to stop—a heartbreaking wait her children endured, knowing they were losing their mom.
My grandmother’s story is equally devastating. She was killed in a crosswalk while walking home from church in Alpine, Utah. A driver, distracted and rushing to Christmas shop, didn’t see her petite figure in the crosswalk. My grandmother, who had lived a life full of service, music, and love, was gone just before Christmas. Instead of celebrating the holidays, we were mourning her loss—and I attended her funeral on my birthday.
These losses have shaped my mission and my resolve. Jocelyn and my grandmother didn’t have to die. Thoughtful road design and better planning could have saved their lives. But instead, distracted driving, poor infrastructure, and outdated priorities took them from us.
That’s why I fight for safer streets through Save Not Pave. It’s why I speak up, even when it’s painful. If we don’t, nothing will change. Dangerous roads will continue to be built, lives will continue to be lost, and families will continue to grieve.
We need roads that prioritize the safety of everyone—pedestrians, cyclists, and drivers alike. We need designs that slow traffic, reduce distractions, and protect lives.
Every life lost on our streets is a preventable tragedy. Together, we can build safer roads and a future where we come together to celebrate lives saved, not mourn those lost.
Alright, so let’s dig a little deeper into the story – has it been an easy path overall and if not, what were the challenges you’ve had to overcome?
Has it been a smooth road? Not exactly. One of our biggest challenges has been encouraging local and state leadership to think beyond car-centric planning and embrace broader, more inclusive transportation solutions. Many decision-makers are so used to designing for cars first that they forget roads are public spaces meant for everyone—people walking, biking, riding transit, and yes, driving too.
We’ve been pushing for Vision Zero goals—the idea that no one should be seriously injured or killed on our streets—but progress is slow when the default mindset favors speed and convenience over safety and accessibility. It’s frustrating, because cities truly thrive when they give people real options: to bike, walk, or ride safely, not just drive.
In a place like ours, where the canyons are loved and well-used by both locals and visitors, we have to think seriously about capacity, environmental toll, and how we move people efficiently and responsibly. That means rethinking road design, investing in bus hubs throughout the valley, and planning for a future where mobility is about people—not just cars.
Thanks – so what else should our readers know about your work and what you’re currently focused on?
I’m a retired elementary school teacher turned community advocate. After years of volunteering at my kids’ school and being deeply involved in their education, I started noticing something troubling—our neighborhood, just off Wasatch Blvd, was becoming an island. Surrounded by fast, unsafe roads, my kids couldn’t even walk or bike to a school that was just over a mile away. They had to be bussed, not because of distance, but because of danger. That hit me hard.
Now, I run Save Not Pave, a grassroots organization working to shift the direction of our city toward one that’s safer, more connected, and community-centered. We focus on thoughtful road design, advocating for complete streets, and protecting access to our beloved canyons without sacrificing safety or quality of life.
What sets us apart is our heart. We’re neighbors, parents, everyday people pushing for change—not out of politics, but out of love for our community. I’m proud of how far we’ve come in raising awareness and challenging the status quo. We believe cities are for people, not just cars. And we won’t stop until everyone can move safely and freely—whether on foot, bike, bus, or car.
Is there a quality that you most attribute to your success?
What quality or characteristic do you feel is most important to your success?
Hands down—connection. I’m a natural networker, and I genuinely care about the people around me. I make it a point to learn my neighbors’ names, check in on them, and create spaces where everyone feels like they belong. I don’t believe in borders or labels—everyone deserves to feel seen and included.
One of my favorite traditions is hosting donuts in the driveway when that crisp fall air rolls in. The smell alone pulls people in, but it’s the conversations and new friendships that keep them coming back. It’s become a neighborhood hub, a simple but powerful way to build community.
I’ll never forget inviting a couple of neighbors over for drinks and realizing they had lived next to each other for over 30 years without ever meeting. I was honestly shocked—and motivated even more to keep creating moments that bring people together. That’s what drives me: making sure no one feels like a stranger in their own neighborhood.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://savenotpave.org
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/savenotpave/
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100064568295083
