They laughed at my old Harley and faded leathers when I pulled into the Thunder Road Bar. “Look what rolled in from the nursing home,” one of them said, loud enough for everyone to hear. It wasn’t the first time. Won’t be the last. At 73, I’ve watched the world change around me. These days,…
The morning they tore down my clubhouse, I sat in the rain and wept. Forty years of memories crushed to dust. The wrecking ball swung. Again. Again. Each blow felt like it hit my chest. I was the last one left. Cancer took Diesel. Heart attack got Preacher. Knuckles and Wrench died in that crash…
They buried my bike with me. I know because I watched them do it. From wherever I am now, I could see everything—my mangled body on the rain-slicked asphalt, my crushed Harley Davidson Road King lying twenty feet away, oil and blood mingling in a dark pool. The paramedics didn’t even bother with CPR. One…
I always knew the road would take my father someday. Just didn’t figure it would happen on his Birthday, not half a mile from the shop he’d owned for thirty years. The police said a texting teenager drifted across the center line. Dad’s ancient Indian Chief couldn’t swerve fast enough. Seventy-two years on this earth,…