ONE MOTORCYCLE RIDE

I must have been about 15 years old when I heard the distinctive sound of a huge motorcycle come roaring up to the side of our house in El Dorado, Arkansas. The driver stopped his big red machine facing the closed entrance to a large corrugated tin garage next door. The driver was an older friend of ours who wanted to show off his new motorcycle.

After saying hello, I followed him out to examine the big "hawg" more closely. It was a brand new Harley-Davidson, huge and shiny! The more I admired the enormous motorcycle, the more I wanted to take a ride on it. Finally I talked my friend into allowing me to just sit on it. Naturally I wanted to start it just to hear it go: 'VAROOOOOM, VAROOOOM".

Sure enough my friend offered me the key and said, "OK, go ahead and start it". He stood way back from me. I turned the switch on and gave it a big kick with my right leg to start it. In a split second it sounded like a huge cannon had exploded as this huge projectile sailed completely through the closed door of the garage at full-speed with a loud crash with me holding on for dear life!

In the blink of an eye I discovered that I had landed upside down underneath a big truck that was parked in the garage. The motor continued to run full speed, with the back wheel going faster and faster all the time.

Somehow I was able to find the ignition switch to turn the confounded thing off and amazingly I lived to tell the tale, without a scratch. The garage had a huge hole where the motorcycle and I had gone completely through it.

That was the last time I ever got on any motorcycle.