On a warm Thursday evening in mid‑July, the dinner rush at Bar Purlieu was in full swing. Glasses clinked, forks scraped up plates of escargot, and the little French bistro’s in‑street patio was packed.
The covered structure, just beyond the sidewalk in the parking lane in front of the restaurant, is called a parklet and is licensed by the City of Eugene.
Around 6:45 p.m., the steady hum of traffic on Willamette Street turned into something else.
There was a crash. Then a sharp jolt. A parked truck was shoved into the in-street, wooden dining structure. Diners leapt from their seats. One man reportedly scraped his arm as he scrambled out of the way. In a matter of seconds, the cozy parklet had radically changed.
For co‑owners Joe Kiefer‑Lucas and Laura Hines, the incident was surreal. They had just left the restaurant less than an hour earlier.
But before leaving and feeling uneasy watching cars whip past the parklet, Kiefer-Lucas had parked his own truck in front of the structure—an act that may have prevented a real catastrophe.
Kiefer-Lucas remembered getting the call from his chef.
“He said that somebody hit the structure [again]. My heart just sinks,” he said. “That’s the worst call I could get from him.”
It was the third vehicle crash into the parklet structure. The two previous accidents outside Bar Purlieu were in 2022 and 2024. Both of those crashes badly damaged the parklet but neither happened during service hours.
This time, it was full of diners.
A pandemic innovation becomes crash data
Bar Purlieu’s parklet was born of necessity. During the pandemic, Eugene—like many cities—embraced “Streateries,” allowing restaurants to spill into parking lanes and sidewalks. It was a way to expand dining options while adhering to public safety protocols that limited indoor dining.
What began as an emergency measure evolved into a strictly regulated, fee‑based program under the city’s Café Seating Program rules.
Bar Purlieu put up its parklet in 2022: a covered wooden structure lined with hanging flowerpots, offering seating for up to twelve guests.
But Willamette Street, especially between 13th and 18th Avenues, is no quiet French boulevard. According to crash data from the Oregon Department of Transportation, the short stretch of roadway has seen 53 crashes since 2019, resulting in 37 injuries and one fatality. The intersection at 15th Avenue is known by locals as a trouble spot–with busy cross streets and a constant churn of activity from nearby businesses like The Beer Stein and Newman’s Fish Market.
“The whole place is chaos, honestly,” said Marion Suitor, Public Affairs Manager for City of Eugene Public Works.
Yet despite the crash data, Suitor said the city has no transportation safety projects planned for the area.
“If we were to see a trend there–where people were routinely getting killed or seriously life alteringly injured on that street-- then that would be what would make it eligible for our High Crash Network,” Suitor said.
One parklet, third crash
The July 16 collision unfolded in seconds. An SUV heading south on Willamette was struck by a car crossing at 15th Avenue. The SUV slammed into a light pole, then ricocheted into Kiefer‑Lucas’s parked truck—ramming it into the parklet.
If the truck hadn’t been there, co‑owner Hines believes the SUV could have plowed straight through the parklet or hit the curb and careened into a corner of the restaurant.
“We know that driver was going way too fast,” she said.
The posted speed limit on this stretch of Willamette is 25 mph. Hines said drivers routinely go 45 mph to 50 mph.
For years, she and Kiefer‑Lucas said they have asked the city to acknowledge the danger, citing the now three crashes at their parklet on an arterial street that funnels fast traffic through a dense commercial pocket.
But, as Suitor acknowledged, the bar for getting traffic safety projects through in Eugene is incredibly high.
“You know, it sounds terrible to say that someone has to die for it to end up on the transportation system plan,” Suitor said. “But when you have extremely, extremely limited resources, we have to prioritize projects.”
After the latest crash, the co-owners made a decision: Bar Purlieu will no longer offer in‑street dining.
It’s a significant loss for a small restaurant that relies on every seat. The parklet seating afforded the bistro one full-time server, Hines said. But the fear—of what could have happened or of what might happen next—was too heavy to disregard.
“Every night, the thought creeps in, ‘what if?’” Kiefer‑Lucas said. “It’s a horrifying thought. A nightmare.”
Sidewalk seating at Bar Purlieu will remain. And the parklet itself will stay, but not for dining. Instead, it will become a lush pocket garden—filled with flowers, trees, and plants rather than tables and chairs.
Keeping the spirit of purlieu alive
The French word purlieu has several meanings: a haunt, a neighborhood’s surroundings, a place where people gather. And for Hines, that essence isn’t lost just because the parklet tables are gone.
“We really need connection in this time,” she said. “We love to see people engaging in the neighborhood and being able to sit outside with their dog and say hello to a neighbor.”
