Posted on 06/02/2008 3:20:00 PM PDT by real saxophonist
A glimpse inside the heart of scary-motorcycle-rider guy
I am in the frozen food section of a grocery store, dazed in that Technicolor way that settles when we're faced with 14 kinds of margarine to choose from. I'm staring at the boxes when I catch sight of a man in a jacket.
It is superb, covered with patches and insignias, drab and worn in all the right places. It is so perfectly aged, it looks like a something from the wardrobe department of a Hollywood movie.
The man wearing it could also have stepped from a movie set -- he's what my kids, when they were younger, would have called a "motorcycle-rider-guy." He looks tough and convincingly self-sufficient. He's not smiling while he leans over the vats of butter and margarine to pick up a box. I'm staring. I spot the letters on one of his patches and string them together over the folds of a pocket. It says "Patriot Guard."
One year ago my friends attended the graduation ceremonies at Rocky Mountain High School and watched a boy graduate. Then they headed home to get ready for the party, to take the cheese plates out of the refrigerator, to unwrap the cold cuts, and double-check that the red and gold streamers hadn't blown away.
That's when they got the call from the wife of their oldest son. Sgt. Nicholas Walsh had been fatally shot in Iraq. Nick's wife wanted to tell them before two Marines, solemn faced and duty bound, made their long drive to arrive at the doorstep of this family that just moments before had been in celebration.
A full military funeral was held, smack in the middle of Fort Collins. The entire town stepped up. Word had it that crazy people -- and I don't use that phrase lightly -- from a Kansas hate group might picket the funeral. Hundreds of people showed up to place themselves as barriers, up and down the street, ready to shield the family from any potential ruckus. The Patriot Guard, clad in leather, with huge motorcycles and even bigger American flags, lined up to make an impressive and respectful wall.
At the grocery store, all this flits through my head. I look from the man's jacket to his face. He watches me stare at him. I blurt out, "Are you in the Patriot Guard?" He still doesn't smile; after all, I'm a complete stranger, staring, and in the dairy section no less. He answers a solid "yes."
Then everything moves together for me. I must have put the butter down. I leave my grocery basket and make my way around the refrigerated display. He's looking at me warily until I say "Did you ride for Sgt. Nick Walsh's funeral? His mom is my friend." His face falls, and then lifts and lights and softens all at once. His eyes fill half with tears.
He puts his butter down, and I hug him, and he's not even surprised. I thank him over and over again. He holds both my elbows, and says, "It wasn't about us, it was about Nick."
Before Nick's second deployment, his mother traveled to San Diego to see him, his wife, his two boys. As they drove through the gates of Camp Pendleton Marine base, they passed protesters with placards and signs about the war. His mom asked him, "Does that bother you?"
"What, that?" he said, following her gaze. He told her it didn't bother him at all. He said, "That's why I'm a Marine. To protect those kinds of rights, to protect those people."
After we left Nick's funeral last year, we walked past row after row of revving motorcycles, and crowds of -- I'll just say it -- some scary looking "motorcycle-rider-guys." I said to my sons, "See those riders? They are amazing. Don't ever be afraid of people just because of they way they look."
One son, who already wasn't afraid and was giving me the "Oh, brother" eye roll, said, "Not even the one with the spikes around his wrists and the skulls on his bike?"
"Not even him," I said.
The other son said, "Are they for the war or against it?" Because children see that Americans seem to fall into two camps over just about everything. "It doesn't matter," I told him. "They are both. They are all of it mixed up. They are Americans."
Natalie Costanza-Chavez is a writer who lives in Fort Collins and welcomes your e-mail. You can reach her, and read past columns, at www.gracenotescolumn.org, or e-mail her at grace-notes@comcast.net
Amen to that, unfortunately it took way too many years for me to realize it...
Dont sweat being recognised and appreciated, as long as that aint the motorvation for service, its simply the icing on the cake...
"Thank You" for yer service...
A response of a biker friend to a silly question by a stupid reporter.
"Yeah, it's hard to rape, pillage and plunder all night when you have to get up at 5:30 to be at work at 7."
LOL
I wish I possessed one-half of this man's character...I want to strangle them.
Oh yeah, like she's going to listen. LOL
Great article. Thanks for the ping!
They won’t dress too much like 1%ers otherwise they are liable to pay the consequences which are not good.
This will pretty much give you all the info you really want to know on MCs.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Motorcycle_gang
Great story!!
Here’s a link to a picture that I took of a couple Patriot Guard Riders at this year’s Rolling Thunder:
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=912830&id=578621430&l=59ed4
LOVE those guys!!
A single patch would normally mean you are voted into a club. My wife is the treasurer of a single patch club.
A 3 part patch, without the main patch, means you are still working your way into the group. You get the main patch once you’ve earned it. Many 1% groups use the 3 part patches. Women are normally “property” in a 1% club.
This is what I have heard. If I am wrong, let me know.
yup
Patriot Riders are true patriots!!
NerdDad and I (well, mostly NerdDad) have participated in a few rides, and we don’t even own a bike. We ride as part of the support crew, carrying flags, equipment, and coolers of water.
We are so proud to be part of PGR!!!!!
Many hugs to you WetWillie.....
Many other non-1%ers use 3 piece patches.
Two rockers and a center patch is not a fool poof indicator of “bad” or “good”.
Not a good idea. Bandidos especially consider any 3 piece patch in their territory uninvited as a personal affront. Typically, they just demand that you hand your colors over. It doesn’t get ugly unless you refuse to comply.
Rolling Thunder of 2008 had the largest turnout of motoscycles in a single gathering in the history of the United States!! An estimated 400,000-500,000 Bikes and Bikers gathered to celebrate the lives of soldiers everywhere. The pictures taken that day are amazing. A great many of these riders are also Patriot Guard Riders, including my boyfriend. Anyone, not only the PGR, who shows respect to the soldiers of this country...these people will have my utmost respect til my dying day ;~)
Just yesterday I passed by a church where a funeral was being held and the Patriot Guard was there, waiting for the funeral to end. They were lined up on the walkway where the casket would pass. I actually stopped and parked to watch them. I so grateful for the soldier who was being honored that day. And I’m so appreciative of the PGR and what they stand for. I honor them, too.
Could you put me on the PGR pinglist?
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