Someone stole every single motorcycle from the children’s cancer ward benefit show for raising funds for cancer patients, twenty-three bikes worth over half a million dollars, gone in the night. The news ran the story as another example of “biker gang violence,” assuming rival clubs had robbed each other while sick kids waited for their…
What happened next took exactly ninety seconds, according to the police report I read later. Big Mike, who’d been a Navy SEAL, went through the front door like it was made of paper. The sound was loud enough that we heard it a block away at the clubhouse. The abuser – Richard Colton, investment banker,…
The homeless biker was beaten unconscious for sitting too close to a motorcycle, and the young cops just stood there laughing. I watched from across the street as this old man in a tattered Marine jacket tried to explain he was just admiring the Harley, not trying to steal it, before some teenagers started kicking…
The biker gang surrounded the crying five-year-old boy at the funeral home while his own family stood outside, refusing to enter. Not one blood relative would go near little Tommy because his parents had died in a sui.ci.de-mur.der, and they all believed he was “cursed” or “bad blood” now. I watched forty leather-clad bikers file…
My daughter screamed “I wish you were dead with your bike!” the last time I saw her, throwing her engagement ring at my feet because I refused to pay for a wedding that banned all my biker friends. She was twenty-five, beautiful in her rage, standing in my driveway next to her BMW while I…
100 bikers surrounded the children’s cancer ward when the hospital tried to evict seven-year-old Lily because her parents’ insurance ran out. The Warriors of the Road MC had been visiting sick kids every Sunday for years, but that morning they arrived to find Lily’s mom sobbing in the parking lot, her daughter’s stuffed animals in…
300 bikers surrounded the nine-year-old’s funeral to block the hate group that promised to protest because the little girl’s daddy died in Afghanistan and they think that soldiers are killers and deserve no respect. I watched from my apartment window as motorcycle after motorcycle rolled in at dawn, their engines purposely quiet, creating a wall…
Fifty bikers shut down the entire interstate to protect the nine-year-old girl who was running barefoot down the highway screaming for help. We were heading back from a memorial ride when this tiny kid in pajamas came sprinting out of the woods, blood on her feet, waving her arms at the thundering line of motorcycles…
The biker jumped off his Harley to save the drowning kindergarteners when everyone else just stood there filming. I watched from the bridge as this leather-clad stranger didn’t hesitate for even a second – just launched himself over the guardrail into the freezing river where the yellow school bus was sinking fast, windows already half…
The biker broke every traffic law racing a dying baby to the hospital after finding her blue and not breathing in a Walmart parking lot. He performed CPR on that infant while her teenage mother screamed that everyone else had just stood there filming with their phones. For eight minutes, this 300-pound convicted felon breathed…
My wife threw my father’s motorcycle patches in the garbage while he was dying in hospice, saying “He won’t need this trash where he’s going.” Forty years of brotherhood, memories, and honor – earned through blood, sweat, and sacrifice – she’d tossed out like common refuse while Dad lay unconscious, unable to defend the legacy…
“Stop riding motorcycles or you’re not allowed at your sister’s wedding”, my own mother uninvited me from my sister’s wedding because I’d started riding motorcycles, claiming I’d “chosen to become trash” and would embarrass the family. Three months of silence after that phone call, three months of being erased from family photos on Facebook, three…
My daughter literally spit on my biker vest when I showed up to her wedding rehearsal dinner on my Harley. In front of forty guests at the country club, Sarah wiped her mouth and announced, “I specifically said no bikers, Dad. Not even you.” The venom in her voice made several people gasp, but she…
A group of old bikers secretly freed animals from our cruelty testing lab last night, and they left behind something that changed everything I believed about my job. As head of security at Millbrook Research Labs, I’d spent twelve years protecting what I thought was legitimate medical research, dismissing the protesters outside as extremists who…
This man in the Tesla destroyed my motorcycle as he just just kept swinging while livestreaming the whole thing. “This is what happens when old trash won’t stay out of nice neighborhoods!” Marcus Wellington shouted at his phone, designer shoes crunching through the glass of my shattered headlight. Twenty-thousand dollars of restored vintage motorcycle, forty…
The five-year-old girl refused to release the dead biker’s hand even as paramedics tried to pull her away from the accident scene. Blood soaked through her princess dress as she clung to the bearded stranger who’d pushed her out of the semi truck’s path, taking the full impact himself. “He’s my guardian angel,” she kept…
I burned my father’s leather vest the day before he died, watching forty years of patches curl and blacken in the backyard fire pit while he lay unconscious in the hospital. Every single patch that embarrassed me throughout my childhood – his Harley-Davidson emblems, his Iron Brotherhood rockers, his Vietnam service pins – I wanted…
The little girl walked into a biker bar at midnight, barefoot in pajamas, and whispered four words that made thirty hardened veterans drop everything: “He’s hurting Mommy again.” Every single man in that room knew seven-year-old Lily. She was the kid who sold us lemonade from her front yard every Saturday when we rode past,…
Twenty-three bikers kicked down the church doors during Sunday service, and every parent grabbed their children as the leather-clad men stormed down the aisle. The congregation screamed, mothers shielding their kids’ eyes, fathers stepping protectively in front of their families as these rough-looking men in patched vests marched toward the altar where Pastor Williams stood…
“Please help – the scary bikers next door are planning something terrible for tonight”; This was the desperate note an eight-year-old girl put in her lunchbox. Her teacher found it during lunch period, immediately called the police, and within an hour, six patrol cars surrounded the motorcycle club’s house, ready for war. The little girl,…
Little girl found an old biker crying on his Harley in a bank parking lot, his shoulders shaking as he clutched rejection papers. Little girl had been waiting in her mom’s car, bored and restless, when she saw the big man in leather walk out of First National Bank like someone had punched him in…
My eight-year-old daughter sat alone at her birthday table while twenty-five kids played in the yard next door, their parents having moved the party when they learned a “biker dad” lived here. Pink streamers hung limp in our backyard, the princess cake untouched, the bouncy castle empty except for the wind moving through it. Emma…
She was spray-painting “BABY KILLER” across my Vietnam brother’s memorial Harley when fifteen of us walked out of the bar. Red paint dripped down Johnny’s custom tank like blood, covering the eagle we’d painted for Angel Rodriguez, covering the dates 1951-1971, covering everything that mattered. The girl couldn’t have been older than twenty-five, but her…
“Your biker friends aren’t welcome at my wedding,” my daughter said, tearing up the invitation I’d addressed to my motorcycle club. She stood in my garage, her wedding planner beside her, both women looking at my Harley like it was contaminated. “David’s family owns half of Charleston. I won’t have dirty bikers in leather vests…
“You trash old bikers don’t belong in here,” the restaurant manager said, blocking the door as twenty bikers tried to enter with a dying child. I watched from my window table as these leather-clad riders stood in the rain, one of them cradling a small boy who was clearly having a seizure, begging to use…