HitWheels Nep

I found my daughter’s wedding invitation in the trash. My own flesh and blood didn’t want me walking her down the aisle because her fiancé’s family thought bikers were “dangerous criminals.” Thirty years I’d spent as a law-abiding citizen, twenty-five running a successful bike repair shop, nineteen paying for ballet lessons and college tuition. None … Read more

The day my son refused to let me hold my own grandson was the day I finally understood what being a biker had cost me. I stood in the hospital hallway, still in my leather cut despite having washed the road grime from my hands until they were raw. My son David, looking like a … Read more

Nobody steps up for the janitor’s kid. That’s what I learned watching from my Harley as the school emptied out that Tuesday afternoon. Through my visor, I could see young Tommy Reese backed against the chain-link fence, surrounded by four bigger boys. The same boys who’d been making his life hell since September. The same … Read more

I was suspended one month before retirement, just because some parent spotted me at a motorcycle rally. Forty-two years I’d driven that yellow bus. Never had an accident. Never been late. Knew every child’s name, which ones needed a little extra encouragement in the morning, which ones needed a quiet word when their parents were … Read more

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 … Read more

They vandalized my bike while I was at my wife’s funeral, and that too in the church parking lot. Just because they don’t want an old man in a leather vest who didn’t “fit” with their country club image. I’d parked my meticulously maintained Harley Electra Glide in the church lot during the service. But … Read more