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40 Years

This motorcycle thing all started for me in about 1957. I remember looking through my mom’s chain link fence at this group of long-haired guys with leather jackets and beautiful two-wheeled machines in our neighbor’s backyard. I asked my brother Al what those machines were, and he said, “Harleys.” He then reminded me that mom had warned many times not to go around those “hoods.”

About that moment, the guy who lived next door, Ed, said, “Hey, Danny, would you like to sit on a Harley?” Before I could answer, he lifted me over the fence and perched me on top of the most beautiful machine I had ever seen. Ed then fired up the engine with one swift kick. Wow, I didn’t know what to say. All I could do was watch my mom’s kitchen window and hope she didn’t look out and proceed to ruin the thrill of my life.

After a few wonderful minutes, Ed lifted me back across the fence. I then commented to my brother that Ed was a nice man. Al said, “I know he is. I guess mom’s afraid of those guys because they look rough. They’re good guys, they just look different. Mom just doesn’t understand.”

Well, that was over 40 years ago, and my big brother’s comments are as true today to some folks as they were in 1957. Today, my neighbors’ kids are probably looking at my brother and me with the same curiosity. Maybe their parents have warned them about “bad bikers.” My brother is a member of the clergy and I am a publisher, grandfather, and about as harmless as they come. They don’t understand that we are just regular guys that happen to enjoy motorcycles.

Today, 44 years after my first two wheeled encounter, I am the proud owner of three motorcycles and director of the Motorcycle Riders Association (MRA) www.motorcycleriders.tv. A group of enthusiasts dedicated to fun, fellowship and safety on two wheels!

And, by the way, about those “rough bikers” from my neighborhood in 1957 - one lived next-door and the other across the street from my mother until her death in 1991. Ed and Bobby, who had been called “hoods” in 1957, kept a watchful eye on mom until the end. Whether it was an oil change for her car, a tree trimmed, or tilling her garden, these two bikers were always loyal friends.

Shortly before her passing, I called her during a terrible winter storm and inquired about her welfare. She said, “Don’t worry about me. Ed and Bobby will get me anything I need. They won’t let anything happen to me. They’re really good.”

I guess mom finally understood about bikers.