Six years ago yesterday my dad died. Fell over dead at 83 in the kitchen. He gave me one last shot, he landed right in front of the liquor cabinet so I couldn't get to it ! He had been a hard rock miner, logger, carpenter and construction worker starting at the young age of 14 in a copper mine. Yeah, I had to grow up tough, he was a serious task master. We never had any motorcycles at home when I was growing up until I was 14 when he bought a used Honda 160, then a 350. Which he wrecked and quit riding. Even though dad loved them and had a bunch before I was born, he understood that he was responsible to the family first and there was no money for a motorcycle.
He was one of the early hot rodders back in the day in SoCal. Hung out with the Christman Brothers and the like in Compton and Bell and Maywood. Gave it up for the family. I did get to see a bit of it though. He had a 34 Ford that was chopped and channeled with a Merc flathead in it for a work car for a while. I got to run to the end of the block and ride on the running boards every day when he came home. So cool even then. I have a picture of him holding me at about a year old sitting on an Indian. He said it wasn't his but he had ridden it, said his favorite bike was a 4 cylinder Henderson he owned. I miss him and wish he could share in some of the fun stuff I'm doing now. We had life long plans to build a hot rod together and never did it. To those of you talking to your kids about projects.....go do it now. Adios Pops.