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I respect the care in your stories. I learned about bikes from my big brother ( miss you bro) and my uncle George Stacks. I remember when Uncle G and aunt Darlene was watching us one night, and all the sudden we heard the sound of someone locking up his brakes and a loud crash. ( think i might of been 6 or 7). But all the sudden Uncle G came running through the livingroom and out the door with all the towels they had. I tried to go with him but he said no because he didnt know what to expect. A little bit of time and sirens , and Uncle G came back in the house with blood on him, and had a look on his face that told me the wreck wasn’t nice to the man. Uncle G didnt stop there. He rinsed the towels and went back for more and Aunt Darlene waited for his voice and did exactly what he asked of her. Like it wasnt new to them. Uncle G helped save the mans life by not letting him bleed out. After all the excitement calmed down, i watched Unc and how he was worried about the guy and Aunt Darlene held him like as if it was him that wrecked. The love they had for each other and for someone that needed help or just a conversation. Was always there in their home and still is. This is where i wanted to grow up. I didn’t want the uppidys in life. That didn’t matter anymore To grow up without, we always had what we needed. Truth, respect, and family. And family is the ones that matter. Not blood or is blood. It was a way in life that the ones that had fancy cars and homes couldn’t understand. So they would cut us down and judge us because our clothes didn’t match. But our souls were on our scooters and our hearts were in a group surrounded by grease and oil and a sleeping bag and tent. I still ride today and do miss them crazy ass, fun lovin , girls giggleing As they are chased around Days. But i got this big ass heart from living a live worth living without the extras. Wouldnt change none of it. My Uncle George is the man that cares about people even after they are judge mental or just rude. He says one day they will need his help and he’ ll be there. And he has and was right. Gotta love him
 

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1983 Honda vt750 Shadow
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Nice story about human kindness.
Too bad it is so lost nowadays.
Amazing just a different color of a man's skin makes people think he is no good.
 
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