They Vandalized My Motorcycle During My Wife’s Funeral
While I was mourning my wife at her funeral, someone vandalized my Harley in the church parking lot. A sign left on it read: “BIKER TRASH GET OUT.” It wasn’t random—it was personal. My wife Barbara and I had moved to Cedar Hills six months earlier after her cancer returned. It was a “proper” neighborhood—no motorcycles, no noise. From day one, the HOA president, Howard, made it clear my bike didn’t belong.
Barbara defended me until the end. She never asked me to change—not in 50 years. She passed away holding my hand on a Tuesday. By Friday, I rode my Harley to her funeral, just as she would’ve wanted.
