When news spread that 29-year-old Staff Sergeant Christopher D. Harding Jr. needed an escort home to St. Clairsville, Ohio, the Warthogs Motorcycle Club didn’t hesitate. The Marine, who died June 19 after a drunk driver crossed the center line and struck his motorcycle head-on, deserved a hero’s return to the Ohio Valley he called home.
The call went out across social media and through the tight-knit motorcycle community: noon at Valley Harley-Davidson at The Highlands. From there, riders would travel to Morgantown, West Virginia, before bringing their fallen brother back to Ohio soil. The message was simple but powerful – a Marine who’d given years of service to his country needed his community to step up one final time.
Christopher Harding wasn’t just another statistic in the ongoing epidemic of drunk driving deaths. At 29 years old, he was an active-duty Marine who’d survived deployments and military service, only to be killed on American roads by someone who chose to drink and drive. The bitter irony wasn’t lost on the veteran community, especially the motorcycle riders who understood the vulnerability of being on two wheels when someone else makes a deadly decision.
The Warthogs Motorcycle Club, known throughout the region for their support of veterans and military families, immediately mobilized their network. These weren’t just weekend riders looking for an excuse to hit the road – they were men and women who understood the sacred duty of bringing a service member home. Many were veterans themselves, familiar with the military tradition of never leaving anyone behind, even in death.
Valley Harley-Davidson at The Highlands became the staging ground for what would become more than just a motorcycle escort. As noon approached, bikes began arriving from across the tri-state area. Chrome gleamed in the summer sun as riders checked their machines and secured American flags to their handlebars. The parking lot filled with the low rumble of idling engines – Harleys, Indians, Hondas, and more – their differences insignificant compared to their shared purpose.
The planned route would take the riders from The Highlands to a Tim Hortons in Morgantown, where they expected to rendezvous with additional riders and the funeral procession carrying Staff Sergeant Harding. From there, the combined group would escort him north into Ohio, specifically to Route 9 in St. Clairsville, before the final leg to Toothman’s Funeral Home.
But the Warthogs and Harding’s family had a bigger vision than just a motorcycle escort. They issued a challenge to the entire Ohio Valley community: line Route 9 like never before. They wanted Christopher to see, in whatever way the departed can see, that his service mattered, that his life had value, and that his community grieved his senseless death.
The response was immediate and overwhelming. Local businesses announced they would close during the procession to allow employees to pay their respects. The St. Clairsville Fire Department prepared to position trucks with extended ladders draped in American flags at key intersections. Veterans organizations mobilized their members to stand along the route with flags and salutes. Parents planned to bring their children, teaching them through example about respect, service, and community solidarity.
Social media exploded with shares and messages of support. People who had never met Christopher Harding felt compelled to participate, understanding that this was about more than one man – it was about honoring all who serve and taking a stand against the preventable tragedy of drunk driving.
The details of the crash added fuel to the community’s determination to make this escort memorable. Bradford G. Jordan, the 56-year-old driver from North Chesterfield who allegedly caused the fatal collision, faced charges of DUI and DUI Maiming, with prosecutors indicating additional charges were forthcoming. The fact that someone Christopher’s father’s age had made the choice to drive impaired, crossing into oncoming traffic and destroying a young life, intensified the community’s grief and anger.
For the motorcycle community specifically, the loss hit particularly hard. Every rider knows the vulnerability of being on two wheels, depending on other drivers to stay alert, stay sober, and stay in their lane. Christopher had been riding responsibly when Jordan’s vehicle crossed that center line, giving him no chance to avoid the collision. It was every rider’s nightmare scenario – doing everything right and still becoming a victim of someone else’s criminal negligence.
As the noon departure time approached, the gathering at Valley Harley-Davidson grew beyond anyone’s expectations. Riders continued to arrive, many bearing military patches on their vests, others wearing simple black armbands in respect. The Warthogs leadership worked to organize the massive group, establishing road captains and sweep riders to ensure the procession would move safely and cohesively.
The ride to Morgantown would normally be routine for most of these experienced riders, but this journey carried different weight. They rode in staggered formation, maintaining steady speeds, their presence impossible to ignore. Motorists pulled over to let them pass, many stepping out of their vehicles to salute or place hands over hearts as the procession rumbled by.
At the Tim Hortons in Morgantown, even more riders had gathered, along with the hearse carrying Staff Sergeant Harding. The parking lot overflowed with motorcycles as riders dismounted to pay their respects and receive final instructions for the journey into Ohio. Local law enforcement had coordinated to provide traffic control, understanding the significance of ensuring this Marine’s final journey home proceeded without disruption.
The procession that departed Morgantown defied description. Hundreds of motorcycles, their engines creating a thunderous symphony of respect, surrounded the hearse like an honor guard. Behind them, cars and trucks joined the procession, their hazard lights blinking in unison. The line stretched for miles, a rolling tribute that commanded attention and respect from everyone who witnessed it.
As they crossed into Ohio and approached St. Clairsville, the riders saw that the community had answered the call beyond all expectations. Route 9 was indeed lined like never before. Thousands of people stood along the roadway – veterans in dress uniforms, families with children on shoulders, workers who’d left their jobs, elderly residents who’d made the effort to stand in the summer heat. American flags waved from every hand, from every business, from every overpass.
Fire trucks formed arches with their extended ladders at major intersections, massive American flags hanging between them. The St. Clairsville High School band had assembled at one corner, playing patriotic hymns as the procession passed. Local Scout troops stood at attention, their young faces solemn as they rendered proper salutes.
The journey to Toothman’s Funeral Home became a profound statement about community, service, and loss. Christopher Harding may have died alone on a dark road, victim of another’s selfish choice, but he came home surrounded by love, respect, and honor. The motorcycle club that initiated the escort had sparked something larger – a regional expression of grief, gratitude, and determination.
For Christopher’s family, the sight of thousands lining the streets provided some measure of comfort in their devastating loss. Their son, their Marine, their Christopher hadn’t just served in anonymity. The Ohio Valley claimed him as their own, mourning his loss as a community tragedy while celebrating his service as a source of regional pride.
The Warthogs Motorcycle Club and their fellow riders had accomplished something remarkable. What began as a simple escort duty transformed into a powerful reminder that service members are never forgotten, that communities can unite in times of tragedy, and that sometimes the roar of motorcycle engines can speak louder than any words of condolence.
As the motorcycles finally fell silent at the funeral home, their mission complete, many riders struggled with emotion. They had done their duty, bringing a brother home, but the circumstances that necessitated this ride – a young Marine killed by an alleged drunk driver – served as a stark reminder of the work still needed to prevent such senseless losses.
In the days that followed, the impact of the escort continued to ripple through the community. Discussions about drunk driving prevention gained new urgency. Veterans organizations saw increased interest in their programs. The motorcycle clubs reported new members who wanted to be part of a community that showed up when it mattered most.
Christopher D. Harding Jr. was laid to rest with full military honors, his funeral attended by hundreds who felt called to pay their final respects. The Warthogs Motorcycle Club formed an honor guard at the cemetery, their bikes lined up in formation one last time for the Marine they’d brought home.
The tragic irony remains – a warrior who’d faced danger in service to his country was killed by a drunk driver on the very roads he’d sworn to defend. But in death, Christopher Harding accomplished one final mission, uniting a community in grief and purpose, reminding everyone that behind every statistic is a human being deserving of dignity, respect, and a proper journey home.
For the riders who participated in that escort, the memory of thousands lining Route 9 will remain forever etched in their minds – proof that in a world often divided, a community can still come together to honor one of their own and declare with one voice that his life mattered, his service was valued, and he would not make his final journey alone.
