She Missed One Day of School, Then Seventy Bikers Showed Up at Her Door
The first time they thundered down our street, I thought it had to be a funeral. Seventy engines rumbling like thunder, leather vests flashing patches, chrome catching the morning sun. But this wasn’t grief—it was something else entirely. And right there, in the middle of the formation, was my seven-year-old niece. Pink backpack snug on…
Read More “She Missed One Day of School, Then Seventy Bikers Showed Up at Her Door” »