50 Bikers Blocked a Funeral After Protesters Screamed at a Dead Soldier’s Mother

of them, a huge man with a gray ponytail down to his waist, was weeping silently. Tears running down into his beard. He never moved. Never wiped his face.

I remember when the honor guard folded the flag, every single biker removed his helmet or his cap. Fifty hands over fifty hearts.

I remember when the bugler played “Taps.” The protesters were still continue reading …