The eulogy.

[namommy]

I went to the funeral today for my husbands friend. I thought you guys would appreciate something from the Eulogy. Her best friend go up and spoke. She does not look like your typical biker. She is a short, chunky, jewish woman. She said: How many 46 year old, jewish women from cheltenham get a motorcycle escort to the cemetery. Well, that's was Lesley has.

There was a motorcyle escort to the cemetary. I wonder what people thought when they saw the combination of Bikers and Little old jewish people all together. It was really cool to see Grey haired little old ladies coming up and hugging leather clad bikers and inviting them back to the house.

Only in recovery.

[best]

Old ladies with a wisdom.
They know kindness and careing when they see it.
There is a peace that comes from seeing a bike tribute.
They had one for a fallen brother's one year memorial. A one minute engine rev at the grave side. A salute in rememberance.

I think you find some of the biggest hearts in the whole world on two wheels.
Least I have anyways.

[BillJ]

Few things compare to a biker's funeral. The solemn, almost-military precision of the riders, as they follow the hearse. The hush of a normally-raucous crowd, as they gather in the chapel, or at the gravesite. The sight of big, burly men holding back their tears, and holding up their weeping women, as they say a final farewell to a fallen brother or sister. The symbolic gestures - a clenched fist held over the heart, a snappy salute if the fallen was a veteran, a kiss - and the tokens left in the open casket, or on the funeral bier. Back in the day it was joints, bottles of Jack Black, Nazi coins, engraved Zippos, and military ribbons. Nowadays it's more likely to be an AA medallion, a patch from a bike blessing, a hand-carved cross, or a photograph of a grandchild, but the spirit's the same. Our dead are going to the next world, and we're sending gifts, to make their journey more bearable.

There's something about a biker funeral that commands respect, even from people who might normally have no use for bikers. When we buried a local outlaw, back in the early '80s, we were stopped and photographed by LEOs on our way to the funeral home. Still, when the motorcycle cops on escort duty led us to the city limits, they stood with their helmets over their hearts until the last ragged, greasy Harley rider had roared and clattered his way across the bridge. The next day those same cops might go back to busting our chops every chance they got, but that afternoon they shared in our grief.

Again, please know that our prayers are with you, your husband, and Leslie's family and friends.

[namommy]

The big, burly men weren't holding back their tears yesterday. That is a sight that wrenches your heart. Just thinking about it;big, burly me is fighting them back again.

[BikerBill8]

Year, Most of us know that it is ok to feel.