Imagine your favorite character barging into your room this moment, grabbing your hand, and taking you with them into their world
Lets be honest though most of us would be dead within a week
But it would be a bloody brilliant week
well, it would certainly be bloody
i would pay good money for a navigation system voiced by cas
“I-I don’t understand. Why did you not turn when I told you to?”
“You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of downtown rush hour traffic, I can throw you back in.”
I READ IT IN THE VOICE I READ IT IN THE VOICE
Bikers Against Child Abuse make abuse victims feel safe
These tough bikers have a soft spot: aiding child-abuse victims. Anytime, anywhere, for as long as it takes the child to feel safe, these leather-clad guardians will stand tall and strong against the dark, and the fear, and those who seek to harm.
The 11-year-old girl hears the rumble of their motorcycles, rich and deep, long before she sees them. She chews her bottom lip, nervous.
They are coming for her.
The bikers roar into sight, a pack of them, long-haired and tattooed, with heavy boots and leather vests, and some riding double. They circle the usually quiet Gilbert cul-de-sac, and the noise pulls neighbors from behind slatted wood blinds and glossy front doors.
One biker stops at the mouth of the street, parks in the middle of the road and stands guard next to his motorcycle, arms crossed.
The rest back up to the curb in front of the girl’s house, almost in formation, parking side by side. There are 14 motorcycles in all, mostly black and shiny chrome. The bikers rev their engines again before shutting them down.
The sudden silence is deafening. The girl’s mother takes her hand.
The leader of this motorcycle club is a 55-year-old man who has a salt-and-pepper Fu Manchu and wears his hair down past his shoulders. He eases off his 2000 Harley Road King and approaches the little girl.
He is formidable, and intimidating, and he knows it. So he bends low in front of the little girl and puts out his hand, tanned and weathered from the sun and wind: “Hi, I’m Pipes.”
“Nice to meet you,” she says softly, her small hand disappearing in his.
The unruly-looking mob in her driveway is there to help her feel safe again. They are members of the Arizona chapter of Bikers Against Child Abuse International, and they wear their motto on their black leather vests and T-shirts: “No child deserves to live in fear.”
I’ll admit - this made me tear up. I’d never heard of BACA before. Now I want to find the WA and OR chapters, and give them some money. I can’t give them a lot - I live hand-to-mouth - but they deserve my support. Surviving abuse is not - *not* - easy. These bikers have taken on a nearly-impossible task, struggling to make it a little easier. Amazing. Absolutely wonderful.
The bikers aren’t looking for trouble. They are there so the kids don’t feel so alone, or so powerless. Pipes recalls going to court with an 8-year-old boy, and how tiny he looked on the witness stand, his feet dangling a foot off the floor.
“It’s scary enough for an adult to go to court,” he says. “We’re not going to let one of our little wounded kids go alone.”
In court that day, the judge asked the boy, “Are you afraid?” No, the boy said.
Pipes says the judge seemed surprised, and asked, “Why not?”
The boy glanced at Pipes and the other bikers sitting in the front row, two more standing on each side of the courtroom door, and told the judge, “Because my friends are scarier than he is.”This is the most beautiful, awe-inspiring thing I’ve read in a long time. I wanna write a book about these guys, Jesus Christ. Where’s the blockbuster movie about these badasses?
Actual tears right now. This is amazing.
Oh gosh. I’m already emotionally compromised and then this just about undid me. I would like a movie about them, please? This is wonderful.
I met two of them the other day at work. Wouldn’t had noticed them if not for their logo on the back of their vest.
what if with our first clot of air when we are born we inhale a soul, and every time we breathe out, we squeeze a tiny part of our souls out. would our final breath actually be the very last soul fragment leaving our bodies?
Woah woah wait
you know those things that say “you become like the 5 people you hang out with the most”
that would explain why, because you would actually be inhaling little parts of them over time
Oh my god
Half of these things, I’ve always been pretty cool with. Now, the question is, which half am I talking about?