I Taught My Son to Ride and Three Weeks Later I Had to Bury His Helmet

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to the rebuilt Shovelhead in my garage. His hand on the gas tank. Showing off the hand-painted letters to a friend who had taken the picture.

I put a third photograph.

Just the jacket. The gold thread collar.

Then I spoke.

I told the court about the bike. I told them about the helmet in the clear plastic bag. I told them about sixty-one feet. I told them continue reading …

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