Call it lack of sleep or whatever, but I remembered something that happened some years back. Each year, we would all get together and ride to this nursing home and give rides on our Harleys to whomever wanted to go. Herc, was a mountain of a man, probably 69 and 375 and all muscle. He never struck me as really very smart, but he usually had a good disposition, which was fortunate, because he could probably end your day if he wanted to. He was quiet and somewhat the loner, but he always showed up for the Seniors ride and he always took a little old lady named Emma on his bike. She called him, her Harley man and he would gently put her 80+ year old frame on his FLH and climb on and away they went. Emma, just loved riding and she would talk about how her husband had rode an Indian back in the day. Each year , Herc would go through the same routine and each year he would bring Emma back and make sure she was comfortable in her room. He would come and visit her often and I guess she was probably the only family he had. Emma, would always read her Bible to Herc and counsel him on being a good boy and to try and clean up his ways. I think he kind of enjoyed it to be honest and I dont recall him ever talking about family. Then, one summer day we gathered at the nursing home and as usual we all teamed up with our usual Senior citizen. I was standing outside my old gals room, just 2 rooms down from Emmas room, when I saw Herc come lumbering down the hall with the usual small bouquet of flowers that he always brought Emma. But, behind him, came Nancy, the nurse who worked in that ward and she had a look on her face that told me immediately, that this wouldnt be a day that Herc would enjoy. As Herc reached Emmas room, he stood there just staring at her empty chair, her bed had been stripped and all of her belongings had been carefully packed away in a box. I stopped breathing for what seemed an eternity, as the tears started to stream down that Giant of a mans face. I wanted to say something, but I couldnt find any words. Herc, just dropped the flowers and slowly turned and walked away. No one said a word, hardly anyone even dared to breathe as Herc walked outside to an area away from the rest of the Bikers and fell to his knees. In an instant, everyone knew what had happened and everyone knew, that his heart was broken. The administrator of the nursing home, approached Herc with a small box and bravely walked up to him, whispered a few words in his ear and gave him the box. Herc stared at it a few minutes, then nodded his big, shaggy head and got on his bike and rode away. Herc was probably 40 years old when that happened and he had spent probably a good part of his life in prison. I never saw anyone, ever really befriend him as most people were scared to death, that he might get mad and break em in half, but I believe he had a heart that was full and he was very misunderstood. I heard that he had gone to the same church that Emma had been a member of and when the pastor gave invitation, a 69 monster of a man, walked to the altar and dropped to his knees again, but this time was different. In the small box the administrator had given him, was a worn old Bible. I never saw Herc again, but I heard he had changed his life and had become a powerful member of a motorcycle ministry. He left this world sometime later, on a bad curve, while riding to aid a fallen Brother. It just goes to show, you never really know what is in a mans heart and we shouldnt judge people by their appearance.
Posted on: Sat, 01 Feb 2014 09:23:13 +0000
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