Colby K. Abong v. Michael L. Herren and the City of the Village ex rel. the Village Police Department

Let’s set the scene: a quiet stretch of West Hefner Road in Oklahoma City. It’s a regular Saturday evening—November 25, 2025, to be exact. The kind of night where people are either heading home from dinner or maybe just starting their weekend. Out of nowhere, chaos. A police motorcycle, sirens possibly blaring, cuts through the calm like a spark to dry grass. Then—BAM—a high-speed collision between a Village Police Department officer on a motorcycle and a pickup truck driven by a man named Michael Herren. And in the crossfire? An entirely innocent bystander, Colby Abong, minding his own business, driving eastbound in the 2500 block of West Hefner Road, when suddenly—he’s hit. Not by one vehicle. No. He’s struck by a police motorcycle that was launched into his lane after being T-boned by a truck. If this sounds like the plot of a low-budget action movie, you’re not wrong. But this wasn’t a stunt. It was someone’s Tuesday commute turned nightmare.

So who are these people? On one side, we’ve got Colby K. Abong, an Oklahoma County resident, described in the filing as “lawfully and properly” on the road. No drama, no backstory—just a guy driving his car. On the other side? Two defendants. First, Michael L. Herren, a Caddo County man whose truck allegedly plowed into Officer Josiah M. Hembrough’s motorcycle. And second, the City of the Village, a small incorporated town in Oklahoma County that employs Officer Hembrough. The Village Police Department, for the record, is not some sleepy one-officer department—though the name does make it sound like it should have a sheriff named Jed and a deputy named Floyd. Nope. It’s a real municipal police force, and Officer Hembrough was allegedly on duty, in the “course and scope” of his employment when things went sideways. That detail matters—because it means the city could be on the hook for his actions, thanks to a little legal concept called respondeat superior, which basically says, “Hey, if your employee wrecks your motorcycle while on the job, you might have to pay for it.” And yes, the plaintiff’s lawyers have already dotted the i’s on the Governmental Tort Claims Act, which is the bureaucratic tollbooth you must pass through before suing a government entity in Oklahoma. They gave notice. The city either said “nope” or ghosted them. So now we’re here. In court.

Now, the what happened part is where things get juicy. The petition doesn’t give us a blow-by-blow of speed, weather, or traffic signals—no dashcam footage described, no witness statements—but what it does say is wild enough. On that fateful evening, Officer Hembrough—on his police motorcycle—was involved in a collision with Michael Herren’s truck. The impact was so severe that Hembrough lost control of his motorcycle, which then careened into Colby Abong’s vehicle. So let’s just picture that: a motorcycle cop, possibly speeding (we don’t know if he was on a call, but come on—why else ride like that?), gets T-boned by a truck, flies through the air like a poorly aimed projectile, and slams into an unsuspecting third driver. It’s not just a two-car pileup. It’s a Rube Goldberg of vehicular disaster. And Abong? He didn’t swerve. He didn’t run a red. He wasn’t texting. He was just… there. In the wrong place at the wrong time, struck by a domino effect of poor decisions and bad timing.

The legal claims? Straightforward, but spicy. The plaintiff is suing both Herren and the City of the Village for negligence. That’s the big one. In plain English: “You didn’t drive like a reasonable person should, and now I’m hurt.” The petition lists a whole checklist of failures: not paying attention, not keeping a proper lookout, not avoiding the crash when they could’ve, not obeying traffic laws (we’re looking at you, Michael Herren, if you ran a light), and failing in their “duty of care” to not, you know, turn a public roadway into a demolition derby. Now, here’s the twist: Officer Hembrough was a cop on duty. And cops can be negligent too. Just because someone’s wearing a badge doesn’t mean they get a free pass when they cause a 15-car pileup. In fact, the city is being dragged in specifically because Hembrough was working—so if he messed up, they might have to pay. The plaintiff isn’t accusing the officer of intentional harm, but of failing to drive with reasonable care—like, say, not getting T-boned at high speed in a way that sends a motorcycle flying into innocent bystanders.

And what does Colby Abong want? $75,000. That’s the number. Not a million. Not even six figures in the real sense—just shy. But is $75,000 a lot? Well, let’s think. This isn’t just a fender bender. The petition says Abong suffered “personal injuries” serious enough to require medical treatment, caused him “physical pain and mental anguish,” and led to lost wages and ongoing expenses. If he broke bones, needed surgery, or is dealing with long-term back or neck issues from the impact, $75K might actually be low. Medical bills in America are a horror show—$30K for an MRI if you sneeze wrong. And lost income? If he missed weeks or months of work, that adds up fast. So while $75,000 might sound like a modest sum for a personal injury case—especially one involving a flying cop motorcycle—it’s not exactly pocket change. It’s the kind of number that says, “I’m not trying to retire in the Bahamas, but I do need my medical debt covered and maybe a therapist to stop flinching every time I hear a motorcycle.”

Now, our take? Look, we’re entertainers, not lawyers. But come on—this case is chef’s kiss absurd. A police officer on a motorcycle gets broadsided by a truck, turns into a human missile, and crashes into an innocent driver just doing his thing? That’s not just negligence. That’s screenplay gold. The most ridiculous part? That both the truck driver and the city are being sued for the same collision. It’s like the legal version of “Who started the fight?”—except the answer might be “both, simultaneously.” And let’s not pretend this doesn’t reek of that classic Oklahoma energy: wide roads, fast vehicles, and someone somewhere yelling, “I had the right of way!” We’re not saying Officer Hembrough was speeding recklessly or that Michael Herren was texting and driving—we’re just saying the universe aligned in the worst possible way. And Colby Abong? Our guy was just trying to get from point A to point B, and instead got launched into the middle of a liability food fight.

Do we think he deserves compensation? Well, the petition says he was lawfully on the road. He didn’t cause it. He got hurt. So yeah, someone should pay. But the real question is: who’s more at fault? The civilian who may have run a light? Or the cop who might’ve been speeding on duty? That’s the courtroom drama we’re here for. And honestly? We’re rooting for Abong. Not because he’s a hero, but because he’s the only one here who didn’t sign up for this. He didn’t put on a badge. He didn’t get behind the wheel of a motorcycle expecting to become a projectile. He just wanted to drive home. And for that, he deserves at least a decent settlement—and maybe a lifetime supply of neck pillows.

This case? It’s not about justice. It’s about accountability. And also, let’s be real—about not becoming collateral damage in someone else’s high-speed life.