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

the back door. Across the wet grass. Toward the garage.

The light was off. I flipped it on.

Under a blue tarp in the middle of the bay — the bay where my truck usually sat — there was a shape I knew the silhouette of before I pulled the tarp away.

I pulled it away anyway.

It was a 1978 Shovelhead.

Frame up, ground down, sandblasted, re-chromed, re-painted,continue reading …