I Sold My Biker Dad’s Harley For $200 To Buy Drugs. What He Did Broke Me.

his daddy’s life.

Dad died at four-seventeen the next morning. I was holding his hand. The Polaroid was on the nightstand next to him.

I’m forty-three years old now. Seventeen years clean.

The Shovelhead lives in my garage. So does a 1972 Sportster I rebuilt for my son’s sixteenth birthday last spring. I taught him to ride on the back of my dad’s bike,continue reading …