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On my way home I had a blowout on Russell Boulevard. While I was cranking down the spare tire from its storage compartment beneath the pickup bed, a couple of Harley Davidson Bikers pulled up and offered to change my tire. Thanking them, I explained that I had notified Triple A and was expecting them any minute, and that I was just making the spare tire available to speed things up. I was impressed that they were willing to interrupt their day and in addition, get all dirty to change a tire.

This incident reminded me of another Biker story. My nephew Jimmy, who was a combat veteran, used his military training to become part of a civilian helicopter rescue team. Tragically, while returning from a rescue mission in Utah, his helicopter crashed and the entire crew perished. When we arrived at his memorial service we were met by a volunteer honor guard of more than a hundred Bikers who had stationed themselves on the entry walks leading to the chapel. They were so dignified in their manner, and so kind to the family and all who came to honor the fallen soldier. They maintained their reverent vigil throughout the length of the ceremony.

Sophie Says
My tail wags more often when I look for the good in people.

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