The mother of all dates with fate....a serious dumping of my then motorcycle. I have been putting off and putting off writing about this brush with fate. In fact, it has haunted me for three decades now.
My memory was jogged the other day on a visit to Whitewater's Fourth of July festivities. Over the last few years they moved their main party right adjacent to downtown. Heide and I walked past the old tavern where the motorcycle debauchery began all those years ago.
After I got out of the Army my main task was to get a motorcycle. By the late 1970s I had two: A small 350cc Yamaha, and a 1975 500cc Kawasaki. The Kawi was the infamous two-stroke racing bike - it was then to that generation of riders, the crotch rocket of today's motorcycle tribe. Nothing good could have possibly come from my relationship with that machine.
I did ride it to Ohio in 1980 for an Army buddy's wedding. After the wedding, I headed for Colorado to see another Army buddy. No bad things happened. In fact, it was a memorable adventure. It was the era of the Japanese motorcycle culture. The Harley Davidson company had not yet resurrected itself from the dead.
I had met Heide in Lake Geneva later that summer of 1980. The economy was so bad in those days, many of us drove motorcycles to save money on gas, maintenance, and parking, et cetera. By 1981 Heide and I had decided to get married.
As time for the wedding day got ever nearer, a pal from work who would be an usher at my wedding and also had a motorcycle, and I went out for a beer after work. Old Mark was a college student, but he was a salty guy and we ended up in a place called the
Long Branch Saloon - a narrow woody local joint on the back street of the consummate college town.
I had a nice pair of sun glasses I wore in those days that lightened up while indoors. It was a beautiful sunny late afternoon day toward the end of summer. After our one beer, and then another, and another, and another, and....I got the wild idea to go back to my apartment (six miles east of town) and make a sandwich. Actually, that speaks to the economy then, and our age. Any money would be saved for....beer.
"I will be back in a half hour," I said.
"I will be fine," Mark said.
I left Mark with two college chicks that were sitting on his lap and busted out the door, hopped on my bike that was waiting patiently at the curb, and blasted down the street. The street lights were now on, but I did not notice it was now dark out.
Once I hit the edge of town, I yanked the throttle and the racing bike hit 80 in a couple seconds. The street lights were now gone and it was just me, Highway 12, and the majestic Wisconsin corn fields. Being preoccupied with the prospects of marriage, and perhaps having been side tracked by the beer....you think....I had forgotten to put on my clear glasses I used at night. I still had the sun glassed on. Everything went black.
I had missed a gradual curve and drifted onto the gravel on the shoulder of the road. Of course it pulled me into the grassy ditch. I kept going...at 80....on into one of those majestic corn fields. I could feel the leaves hitting me in the face. Now the bike was on its side and I was on top of it like I was lying on a surf board.
The bike came to a stop a few rows of corn into the field. I was stunned for a moment. My chin was bleeding. I picked myself up and patted my torso. I was still alive. But was I sure? There had been a black moment of silence.
The glasses were on my face - cracked, crooked, and bent like in some comedy movie.
There was nothing to do but walk back to town. In that pre-cell phone era I stopped at a house with the lights on. Remarkably the people let me in to make a phone call. Rather than call my dad, who I knew would not be amused, I called my Best Man.
"Can't help tonight Bob, I got to baby sit my kids," he said as if I was simply talking about needing help to move a sofa.
I hung up the phone and turned to look at a man and woman staring at me with disdain and worry. I looked down at myself and then noticed the blood and ripped cloths.
I don't remember getting back to my apartment. The next day another co-worker and I hoisted the motorcycle up in the back of the company pickup truck.
Can you imagine how many people noticed the bent silver fender peeking out of the corn field? Nowadays, the people in the house probably would call the cops. Cell phone calls would flood the 911 Center about the motorcycle crash. Cops, ambulance people, and the fire department would be searching the whole field for a victim and or a perp. No, not in 1980, we just went back and picked up the bike the next day.
I have always wondered if I died that night and the life I live now is some kind of shift to a different reality. The concept being, no matter what age you live to, you must actually finish life, but just in some alternate reality. Each time you die, you shift to another reality. There was a television science fiction series that explored a similar concept. It was called "Sliders." It was perhaps ahead of its time and faded away after a couple or three years.
.
Because I have kicked the bucket a couple times, and this life of mine sure has been strange at times, the thought
hassss crossed my mind.
It's probably just my imagination.
Wisconsin Military Service Person Special Mention of the Week
(each week Cooldadiomedia mentions a Wisconsin service person killed in Iraq or Afghanistan)
Army Staff Sergeant Matthew John West, 36, Conover, Wisconsin, died on Monday, August 30, 2010 in the Arghandab River Valley of Kandahar province, Afghanistan. He was one of five soldiers killed when their unit was attacked with an improvised explosive device (roadside bomb). He was assigned to the 62nd Explosive Ordnance Company, 71st Explosive Ordnance Disposal Group based at Fort Carson, Colorado.
The Website livinglegendteam.blogspot notes Staff Sergeant West was a bomb disposal expert. The military lists West's home as Conover, Wisconsin; his family had recently moved there from Michigan. His wife and three children had also lived in Colorado Springs, Colorado, near the military base. West was killed a little more than a month after beginning his third tour of duty in a war zone.
The Milwaukee Journal Sentinel mentioned West graduated in 1992 from Gaylord High School in Gaylord, Michigan. West joined the Army in 2004 and had served tours of more than a year in both Iraq and Afghanistan before being sent to Afghanistan again in July of 2010. The Traverse City Record Eagle out of Michigan notes West was trained in Explosive Ordinance Disposal (EOD).
The Website freedomremembered.com notes West was born on May 20, 1974. He grew up in Michigan and graduated and received a bachelor’s degree in 1997 from Northern Michigan University in Marquette, Michigan.
The Gaylord Herald Times via their Website notes that West was on his second deployment to Afghanistan and he had served one tour of duty in Iraq. The record-eagle.com out of Michigan mentions West grew up in the Pine Briar neighborhood in Gaylord and had worked at a couple local grocery stores. West died during his third tour of duty overseas. He was in Afghanistan from March to September 2006, then in Iraq from March 2008 to June 2009.
The Website fallenheroesproject.org notes some of Staff Sergeant West's military Awards and Decorations include: the Bronze Star; Joint Service Commendation Medal; Army Commendation Medal (awarded twice); Meritorious Unit Citation; Army Good Conduct Medal (awarded twice); National Defense Service Medal; Afghanistan Campaign Medal (awarded twice); Iraq Campaign Medal w/Campaign Star; Global War on Terrorism Expeditionary Medal; Global War on Terrorism Service Medal; Noncommissioned Officer Professional Development Ribbon; Army Service Ribbon; Overseas Service Ribbon (awarded twice); NATO Medal; Combat Action Badge; and, the Senior Explosive Ordnance Disposal Badge.
At the time of his death Matthew West was survived by his wife Carolyn: three children, 4-year-old Tyler, 3-year-old Joseph, 3 month old Annalise; parents John and Marsha West; sister Kristine (Roger) Willis; grandmother Beatrice West; and, uncle Joe West. Staff Sergeant West was laid to rest in Arlington National Cemetery, Arlington, Virginia. Army Staff Sergeant Matthew J. West was the 22nd military service person with Wisconsin connections to die in Afghanistan since October of 2001.
As of this blog entry's posting date:
101,584 Iraqi civilians have been killed in Iraq since Spring, 2003.
10,065 Iraqi Security Forces have been killed in Iraq since Spring, 2003.
4,469 Americans have been killed in Iraq since Spring, 2003.
1649 Americans have been killed in Afghanistan since October, 2001.
318 Coalition soldiers have been killed in Iraq since Spring, 2003.
915 Coalition soldiers have been killed in Afghanistan since October, 2001.
1 American/Coalition casualty in Libyan "Operation Odyssey Dawn" since March, 2011
32,130 U.S. troops have been wounded in action in Iraq since Spring, 2003.
12,306 U.S. troops have been wounded in action in Afghanistan since October, 2001.
107 Wisconsin soldiers have been killed in Iraq since Spring, 2003.
34 Wisconsin soldiers have been killed in Afghanistan since October, 2001.
3 Wisconsin soldiers have been killed in the U.S. related to "The War on Terror" since October, 2001.
149 journalists (several nationalities) have been killed in Iraq since Spring, 2003.
21 journalists (various nationalities) have been killed in Afghanistan since October, 2001.
5 journalists (regional and independents) have been killed in Libya since March, 2011.
Wisconsin military service person special mention of the week, military casualty, and journalist casualty information sources: Committee to Protect Journalists; cnn.com; Milwaukee Journal Sentinel; washingtonpost.com; thehighground.org; Wisconsin Department of Veterans Affairs; iraqbodycount.org; www.defense.gov/news/casualty.pdf; and, icasualties.org.
