New Year's Day 2018 - Bobbing and Weaving

Bobbing and weaving, we wound through the canyons and along the spine of the Santa Monica Mountains on the Mulholland Highway through the Snake and past the Rock Store so we could hook up with the PCH for lunch at Duke’s in Malibu. Because that’s how we like to ring in the New Year.

Were our fifteen bikes a boxer, no palooka would they be. We did not attack the twisties with vicious body shots and head butts. No, we are more like The Greatest – floating and flitting through route like a butterfly. It was poetry in motion from the Starbucks in Porter Ranch to Duke’s.

Our four first-timers with the group fit like well broken-in gloves, as though they were born to the group of usual suspects. (List of riders and their rides below) We had clean lines through twisties, nice tight groupings in traffic, and exquisite spacing throughout. It was a joy to open the New Year with a ride like this on a clear day with mild temperatures; in the mid-sixties on the coast and low seventies in the hills.

We had Johnathan on his orange/white High Ball, soon to be customized to take out the white tank highlights. I think it will be an awesome look. Aaron joined us on a Touring Cruiser, a model I hadn’t heard of ‘til this ride. Larene and Roger came in from Bakersfield on a XC Touring and Vision, respectively, and won the prize for longest commute to the meet point. Vickie won for overcoming obstacles having repaired a flat and coming in from the Inland Empire on her Honda F6B and getting to the Starbuck’s in time for a Martinelli’s New Year’s toast before we put up our kickstands for the ride.

Kevin joined us after his forced sabbatical to care for his beloved Dory who passed away this past October after battling Alzheimer’s. We honored her with winged ribbons Bev put together. We all miss her and it was not lost on us how poignant this was for Kevin being his first holiday season and New Year’s Day without her. We continue to hold him and the family in our hearts for his grief.

New Years are for renewal. Rides punctuate our love for the road with friends, new and old. Our rider’s hopes are for roads to new places and rides to refresh our connections to familiar favorite roads and destinations. May it be so for you.

Ride well, keep the iron side up, and be blessed in 2018.

jerry

New Year’s Day 2018 Group:

Tim Robertson – Vision (The Enterprise)

Bev Hope – Vegas (Cloud 9)

Jed – Vision

Sue – Cross Country

Larene Meng – Cross Country Tour

Roger Meng – Vision

Steve McLean Sr. – Vision

Kevin Shaw – Vision (Nit Vision)

Todd Skaggs - Vision

Shawn Frausto – Cross Country (Sancha)

Vicki Peterson – Honda F6b

Aaron Staubach – Touring Cruiser

Stephen Thrasher – Cross Country

Johnathan Urazoff – High Ball

Jerry White – Cross Country (Stick II)

Note: We had more Vision riders than any other model. And, they let us know it.

Approaching Pt. Mugu

Angels in the Aisles

There were angels in the aisles as we practiced our grief and rose above it to celebrate all that had been and is Dorie Shaw.

Five of them lined up at the microphone to speak of her compassion and the love she had for her grandchildren. These angels were well spoken and did their grandmother proud. We know that their Nani will always be their sunshine.

Three others had preceded the five, thankful for their mother’s life and what she brought them: a childlike endearment, humor, and a love for dressing just right. Dorie’s passion for serving, living the moment for family, and her faith are their inheritance.

Another angel ranged about the hall bestowing wings to be pinned on lapels, shirt pockets, and blouses – mementos that call attention to the angel in everyone there. Still more roamed among the congregants and hugged it out, blessings passed from one angel to another.

Others rose and spoke of the Dorie Shaw they know and love, her Godliness and devotion and her steadfastness to friends.

It was all so fitting in the face of a dastardly foe that found it impossible to wipe away all that Dorie Shaw is.

Soon we’ll put the wind in Kevin’s face again to help erode the travails at his great loss and bring forward all those good things that can fill his heart.

Remember the part you play as angels in the aisles, on the road, and in the home and do not shy away from bestowing heartfelt words, caring looks, or hearty hugs that will buoy up a brother or sister in need.

Peace

jerry

Memorial Day Rumination

I am the son of parents who met while serving in the US Navy during the Korean War. Two of my uncles served in the Navy and one of those uncles, my Uncle Bill, had two sons who served; one in the Navy and the one in the US Air Force. None of them were injured or killed while in the service. Their holiday is more rightfully Veterans’ Day.

Memorial Day is a day of remembrance for those who died while serving in the armed forces. The day was initiated in 1868 and was held on May 30th up to 1972 when the day of remembrance was moved to the last Monday in May. There will be parades, gatherings at memorials in parks and shopping malls all around, and some will visit the gravesites of the fallen where volunteers have placed American Flags at the gravesides.

I have not served our country in the armed services and I don’t know anyone personally who has given the ultimate sacrifice for freedom. I was in the last draft lottery that brought young men into the service to send them off to Viet Nam. I often say that I’m just as glad Uncle Sam didn’t invite me in for a trip to Southeast Asia. In fact, I repeated that sentiment to Eric just a few days ago when I ran into him during a walk in Crescenta Valley Park. Eric was our starting center on the ’71-’72 Glendale Community College team, the Vaqueros. Shortly after our game on the day our lottery numbers came out I remember hearing Eric’s exclamation from the front of the bus as he realized he was drafted. I was well above the top number to be called at 253.

While I make that statement from time to time it is not entirely true. My father was aboard the aircraft carrier USS Point Cruz somewhere near Korea the day I was born. Cindy and I had an opportunity because of an overly long port of call during a recent cruise to tour the USS Midway in San Diego. I was thrilled all the while I went from cabin to cabin, command centers and through the flight and hanger decks while getting just a feel for what my dad went through. We came home and I got the name of his ship from my mom to do some research on it and wrote my dad a letter about his ship, added some old photos, and talked about my experience on the Midway. In the letter I made a confession to him that until that time I hadn’t told anyone – I wish that I had enlisted in the service out of high school rather than flail about in college for the first couple of years.

Though I did not serve I nevertheless mourn the loss of young lads and lasses that I would have served with had I gone into service. I mourn those who are injured and killed in every conflict and act of terrorism. We memorialize the fallen – as a country, as communities, as families, and as individuals. We create space to remember them in some way with special to ourselves.

I lost one of my best of friends while in my twenties to a car accident with a drunk driver. I still don’t completely understand God’s reasoning for it but I’ve gotten over the bitterness of it thanks to the laying on of hands and the prayers of a very special group of junior high kids and their advisers. Since losing Doug I found myself at Bass Lake over an occasional Memorial Day weekend, a place he and I went a couple of times with his parents’ boat and skied like crazy. To memorialize my friend I’d walk down to the lake from my grandparents’ home and stroll along Ski Beach until I found someone willing to take me out for a memorial run. Ski people can be very accommodating. I’d ski the crap out that lake either until my new friends got tired of it or I wiped out in some spectacular fashion. Nowadays I have a Dr. Pepper and lift it to him in memory. You see? It’s the little ways we can remember those we’ve lost and it’s all fine and good as long as it keeps the warmth of their memories close to us without sending us into the cold of bitterness. Bitterness doesn’t do us nor anyone close to us any good. It took a small miracle for me to find that out for myself.

What does this have to do with Memorial Day 2017? Well, there are hundreds of thousands of people memorializing their fallen today, mourning their losses, and some have every right to be bitter. I pray they don’t fall to bitterness or if they have then some miracle takes place for each one and they find those that will comfort them.

All in all, remember our lost well, keep warm memories of them alive, and pray for peace.

jerry

On The Memorial Trail

Two memorial services in two days. Consecutive tear evoking emotional roller-coasters that couldn’t have been more different from one day to the next. And yet at their base level they were the same. The cast of our human dramas had changed, the names on the marquee were different, the size and scope of the production were polar opposites, and the lines for the key roles were scripted with different pens. But at the end of each day we’d bid farewell to a friend, parent, sibling, and spouse and the aches in our hearts were all too similar.

Friday, April 1, 2016 Betty M. Horst was laid to rest at the Eternal Valley Memorial Park in Newhall, California, nine short days after her passing on March 23, 2016. Betty is my sister Stacey’s mother-in-law, a relatively recent addition to our extended family with the late summer wedding for my sister and her husband and friend Glen. (I refuse to think we are in the fall season of our lives) About 30 or so gathered in the Chapel of The Oaks at the mortuary. There are a couple of 36” flat screens mounted on the wall just above the chancel, big enough for anyone seated at the back pews to see clearly as the photo montage of Betty’s life rolled throughout the service from black and white portraits through the family shots with Glen as a little boy in suspendered pants and then as a young man with black mustache while wearing Magnum style shorts and finally shots of Betty at various events.

The program for Betty’s service in front of me is a classic “In Loving Memory” style with a photo on the front and historical dates under Betty’s photo. There are a few key photos inside the heavy stock paper document with the 23^rd Psalm printed on the facing page while on the back is more historical data. There was no agenda other than to read the Psalm and talk a little about the woman we knew.

Stacey’s grief was palpable while Glen held himself in check with a key role to play in the service. This was the memorial service for a member of our parent’s generation and was all the more real to us with the struggles of our dad and my wife’s mother ongoing. As folks arrived they came to pay respects to Glen, Stacey, and Gene, Betty’s husband of 65 years. Tears flowed and hugs were exchanged while some words just couldn’t be expressed.

The itinerant pastor took the dais after the mortuary representative welcomed us and thanked us for attending. Itinerant Pastor is my best description for him. He was next in line from Eternal Valley’s call list who spent all of fifteen minutes with the family in preparation for the service. He read the Psalm and spiced his oration, largely about his own experiences, with seeds of hope for those Betty had left behind.

Glen presented his mother to us with words from an aching heart at the loss of his mom. He was eloquent without being flowery. He was honest and direct about how she lived, what her passions and prides were, and what she means to him. When he faltered he gracefully gathered himself to the task and let us come to know Betty M. Horst all the more deeply. Glen provided all we need to hold the memory of Betty close to our hearts as we pray for peace for Glen, Stacey, Gene, and the rest of the family and friends.

After the service each of the attendees made their way over to gather in the courtyard of a Mexican restaurant for appetizers and soda. Cindy, three of Stacey’s kids, Kaylynn, Brad, and Jeff, and I took a table inside and had our own family time when the courtyard setup was overrun. We made a place for Stacey to get a break from it all to join us from time to time. A little Mexican restaurant was where the celebration of life took place and that was all right with us.

On April 2, 2016 I met seven other motorcycle riders at a Shell station in La Canada to ride out to the Centerpoint Church in Murrieta, CA. We picked up a ninth rider along the way and took a businesslike trip down the freeways to join up with another 60 or so bikes in the parking lot. It was a destination ride to celebrate and memorialize our friend and fellow rider, Joe V. Ramos, who had lost his battle with cancer. Cancer sucks.

Joe V. Ramos was taken on February 18, 2016, over 50 days before. Joe was a former California State Park Ranger and a motorcycle enthusiast. I met and rode with Joe and Karen, his wife, on one ride. That’s it, one ride. I wish it had been more. I was touched by Joe through the Facebook posts I saw scrolling through as he battled cancer and finally succumbed. The best that I can explain it is that I was moved by God’s Spirit to write a memorial post to Joe from and with our mutual friends (http://ironsideup.blogspot.com/2016/02/tribute-to-joe-ramos-dear-joe.html).

Centerpoint is a cavernous meeting hall with stackable chairs for several hundred. A 30 foot screen is mounted center stage with two 8 foot screens to either side, both are conservative estimates. The program of Joe’s service is printed on magazine quality paper with his State Parks photo on the cover and a Sunrise of 6/3/1959 and a Sunset of 2/18/2016. This is a man in the early part of my own generation, a peer, if I could be called that. A history of “Team Green” is printed on the inside cover with a photo of Karen and Joe riding off and a photo of Karen, Joe, and his two kids, Amanda and Joe. The contrast to Betty’s service shows up on the agenda. There was meaningful music to Joe and a thorough Eulogy from long-time friend Ken Roybal who Emceed the service that included special guest speakers and presentations from the California State Park Rangers that included a flag which had flown over parks where Joe had loved and served as a Park Ranger. There was a Proclamation from the California State Senate and plaques with various insignia from the State Parks and four riders’ groups; The Inland Empire Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club, The Lost Coast Victory Motorcycle Club, The Southern California Victory Riders, and the Southern San Joaquin Victory Riders Motorcycle Club. I think I mentioned that Joe loved riding and loved riding with Karen.

The service was wrapped up with an open microphone with heartfelt comments from Karen and the two kids who all did a wonderful job of sharing Joe with us. Several friends took the mic and shared stories of Joe. The open mic was followed by a video tribute, closing comments, and an excellent prayer by Kevin Shaw.

We adjourned to ride and eat, two of Joe’s favorite things. We rode in a stately group of seventy bikes or more, complete with blockers and sweeps and a lighted State Parks vehicle. It was a tightly packed and well ridden tribute to Joe and his rider’s legacy. Dale Moews had the honor of riding Joe’s Anti-Freeze Green Victory Cross Country. Dale was as profoundly affected by Joe’s life and death as anyone I met throughout the day. Peace Dale.

We gathered at Ken Roybal’s place in Lake Mathews in the Perris area at the end of our 65 mile ride. We had food and the fellowship of riders and family, two distinctions that blur during our times together.

What draws us to memorial services? I can think of four things and many times our attendance is a combination of the first three. We attend because we are there to honor and celebrate the life now gone by, we go to be a comfort to the family and close friends of the deceased, we go to be comforted, and in the end, we go because we’ve lived a life worth remembering and are the one being celebrated.

Still, why do we have a need to memorialize and remember? I believe it is because we have a deep need to be connected to people, someone special to us. And because of that deep need, once we’ve found someone, we realize that it is difficult to let go without wrapping up our memories with other friends and family members.

As a Christian I have what I’m sure some people, even other Christians, would think of as an odd take on this. It was during that somber 65-mile ride that I considered what Jesus felt about the need to be connected. Did He have it? Yes He did. While it was paramount for Jesus to be connected to the Father, he surrounded himself with close friends, 12 disciples, his mother Mary, Mary and Martha along with their brother Lazarus for whom Jesus wept (John 11:35).

His need was so deep that Jesus took several of his closest disciples with him to pray during the darkest hours of his ministry on earth. He was disappointed when they could not remain awake with him as he faced the final hours of his earthly ministry, his betrayal at the hands of someone he loved, his trial, beating, and crucifixion. The Sacrifice that he made gives us hope as we remember those we love and have lost at their final day with us.

So, for the facts that Jesus wept for a friend, remembered them fondly as they passed on, and made the ultimate sacrifice for us, I say we should memorialize to our hearts content and remember Joe and Betty for the lives they lived, for the love they gave, and that we hold on to them in our hearts to live our lives knowing the difference they made to us.

Keep the iron side up, ride with passion, live with integrity, love like no one does it better… Peace

jerry

Tribute to Joe Ramos - Dear Joe

Dear Joe,

Photo and sentiment courtesy of
Dale Moews

Though we only rode together once and then only briefly, I’ve been moved to write to you. I can’t really explain the motivation for this except that seeing what our mutual friends are saying about you riding on has struck a chord in my heart and soul. I try not to question my muse, He knows too much and His plans are too far-reaching for my limited understanding. One thing I find difficult to understand is why particular people are taken from us and when and how they are taken. I can only hope that by my writing this and sharing it with our friends that someone out there will be touched by it and thereby helped along the road to peace as I have been touched by your friends’ genuine sentiments they’ve shared about you. You’ve left quite an impact.

          You might notice that I’m leaving much of this letter about you in the present tense. That is because that which you were in life on earth lives on in the hearts of those left behind and so they are still valid and not lost to us.

          Yes, you have made quite an impact on your friends. To them you are ‘bigger than life’, a man of quiet strength. Your friend Ken Roybal tells me that you commanded respect from all who knew you. Notice that I said commanded rather than demanded. It is the person you are which drives the respect, it was never anything you demanded. Ken attribute a big heart to you and that you ‘never threw people away’ and are willing to give people two, three, four chances. Translated, that means you are a person of great patience and hope and of great integrity. Thank you for that.

Karen and Joe on Route 66
Photo courtesy of Tim Tarbet

You are a man who loved a lot of things in life; motorcycles, cars, food, and more importantly, your kids and friends. Your friend Dale Moews went on to tell me that the thing you loved most was Karen and that even after sixteen years together you acted like you were newlyweds. I love hearing that about you; your passion for your wife and the genuine way you feel about her. That genuineness carried through to how you care for your friends and the people you’ve just met and how they feel they’ve known you for years. The way people feel comfortable with you so quickly speaks volumes about the man you are at heart. Thanks for that.

          Our friend Brad Parrack told me about how you are a kind and thoughtful man and ‘a tower of a man in deeds, thought, and stature’. He told me of a time that you showed up at a meet point for a ride only to tell the others that you needed to stay home with Karen because she was ill. These things speak well of how you built your life on a foundation of love and how you put that love into action. I believe that love is a verb and requires action, a belief that we share. Thanks.

          Shawn Frausto called me today. You and Karen made a deep impression on Shawn and Danielle. We talked a little about what you mean to him and a couple of ‘G’ words came up. You and your Karen are gracious and gregarious. Gracious in how you opened your home to them after a long hot ride for them to come visit you. You gave them water, space, and a place to be refreshed in mind and body. You are gregarious, you love being around people and they love being around you as well. Shawn told me of how you and Karen made a long ride on your own to meet up with folks to celebrate Shawn’s birthday even though you had to miss the group ride and that looms large in Shawn’s heart. I appreciate what you’ve meant to our friends.

          I noticed a photo of you in a California State Parks uniform. Very sharp. I might be mistaken about this and I imagine I’ll hear the details of it soon, maybe as a result of sharing my letter to you. I understand that you had a career in law enforcement leading up to your Parks service, service being the key word here. From all that I learned about you from our friends it does not surprise me that you were called as a public servant. Honest and honorable, gracious and gregarious, respected and respectful, loving and caring, firm, resolute yet warmhearted. You are a natural at public service because of all of those qualities. I believe that others have seen the way you conducted yourself in your career and are better public servants by your example. This gives me hope for the good guys.

          You’ve left us with quite a legacy and a tough act to follow. Because this is what friends and family do – we take all the good things we know about the ones we lose, we remember the excellent examples of how they lived, and we do our best to honor those memories in how we live and love. And that’s what we’ll do with you, remember your best and be the better for having known you.

          I’ll finish up with this as a prayer, if you don’t mind, for you, Karen and your kids, and the friends who are hurting at losing you. This is a couple of stanzas from a song I sung with a handful of guys early in the morning I started writing this letter. You were fresh on my heart and mind at the time and the tune rings true for you.

          From 10,000 Reasons:

The sun comes up, it’s a new day dawning;

It’s time to sing Your song again.

Whatever may pass, and whatever lies before me

Let me be singing when the evening comes.

You’re rich in love, and You’re slow to anger

Your name is great, and Your heart is kind.

For all Your goodness, I will keep on singing

Ten thousand reasons for my heart to find.

And on that day when my strength is failing,

The end draws near, and my time has come;

Still my soul will sing Your praise unending;

Ten thousand years and then for - - evermore!

         

Peace my friend,

jerry