” Children from neighboring houses began appearing, drawn by their parents’ curiosity and their own fascination with the impressive display of motorcycles. The bikers, many of whom were parents and grandparents themselves, found themselves answering questions about engine sizes, custom modifications, and the meaning of various patches.
“That’s a Funhaus 200C engine,” explained Tommy Wrench to a 10-year-old boy who was examining his bike with obvious admiration. “She’ll do 0 to 60 in about 4 seconds.” “Wow, can I sit on it?” Tommy looked to the boy’s mother, who nodded after a moment’s consideration.
The child climbed onto the massive machine, his hands barely reaching the handlebars, his face glowing with excitement. Similar scenes played out throughout the crowd. Tough-looking bikers patiently explained motorcycle mechanics to curious children, posed for photographs with local families, and shared stories of life on the road with anyone interested in listening.
Emma moved through the gathering like a tiny celebrity, greeting riders who had traveled hundreds of miles just to meet her. Each introduction reinforced the reality of what her simple act of kindness had accomplished, namely bringing together people who might otherwise never have had reason to gather in peace.
“Are you really the little girl who saved Steel?” asked a rider whose jacket identified him as a member of the Connecticut chapter. “I just helped him get warm,” Emma replied matter-of-factly.
Anyone would have done the same thing, but that, of course, was exactly what made Emma special. In a world where most people would have been afraid to approach an injured Hells Angel, she had seen only a human being who needed help.
At exactly 1:00 p.m., Iron Mike stepped onto the makeshift platform that road captains had constructed from motorcycle trailers parked side by side. The crowd of 2,000 bikers fell silent with a discipline that would have impressed a military commander.
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