Drew was one of my brother’s best friends. I first met him
at one of our family reunions. He was a good ole boy from North Carolina that
loved life, motorcycles, University of North Carolina, and teasing my youngest
sister about getting married. I didn’t know him that well, but I have often
thought of him over the years since his murder, and how much of a loss it was
for my brother. Now I was standing next to his Star Wars adorned headstone in
motorcycle gear paying my respects.
Robbinsville, North Carolina lies in the Smoky Mountains
along the border with Tennessee. I had ridden Charlie Brown, my BMW motorcycle,
down from my hometown in Franklin, Kentucky along with a nephew, a nephew and
his wife, and a brother-in-law to meet my youngest brother Amory in a cabin
just off of the Cherohala Skyway. After a night at the cabin, we mounted up for
a ride along the Cherohala Skyway to Robbinsville, and Drew’s grave.
I scared myself a couple of times getting out of the long
gravel driveway from the cabin and down the winding hillside road to the
Skyway. The gravel was deep and loose making my back tire fishtail several
times, but I kept it upright until we connected to the asphalt. The sweeping
turns and majestic, mountain vistas of the Cherohala Skyway took my breath away
as it alternated between tunnels of green forest and mist-covered mountaintops.
The road was pure riding perfection. It was like a group of motorcycle riders
got together and designed the road for the ultimate in motorcycle riding
pleasure. It was the right balance of adrenaline, peacefulness, and
breathtaking. I’m sure that without my full-face helmet bugs would have flown
straight into my wide-open mouth as I rode around each bend in utter amazement at the perfection of the experience.
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| R2D2 |
I had never seen a gravestone with Star Wars figures on it,
but then again Drew was as unique in life as he was death. He was buried in a
hillside surrounded by large trees next to a Baptist church. His mother and
sister were buried next to him. They died together, and it was fitting that
they rested together in death on the same verdant hillside.
Drew was helping move his sister and her children out of their
home during an ugly divorce (Is there any other kind?) when the estranged
husband showed up with a high-powered hunting rifle and shot his wife,
mother-in-law, and brother-in-law. The eight-year old son and four-year old
daughter fled the home and were rescued by their grandfather a few minutes
later.
The estranged husband admitted to the triple murder in a plea
deal. He told the deputy, “I shot
them. They were taking my kids. I shot them.” For his confession, he avoided
the death penalty and got three consecutive life sentences. He will die in
prison. Unfortunately, that is little consolation for Drew, or his family.
After honoring
Drew, we mounted up and headed for Deal’s Gap and the Tail of the Dragon.
The Tail of the
Dragon is an eleven-mile stretch of US 129 that begins at the North
Carolina/Tennessee border and includes 318 unique turns in that short stretch
of highway. It is not a road for cruising and sight seeing. The attraction is
not the beautiful wooded roadside, but the road itself. Amory had ridden it
several times, but it was the first time for everyone else. We stopped at the
souvenir shop with the parking lot full of motorcycles for a bit of memorabilia
before we challenged the Dragon.
I got my gear on
first and since I was probably going to be the slowest rider, I motored out of
the parking lot ahead of everyone else to get a jump on the winding road ahead.
I wasn’t sure what to expect. Would I feel the rush of adrenaline, simply the
fear of death, or maybe a little of both? Would I be up for the challenge or
had I become a dawdling old man putzing along on without pushing myself?
I may not be the
ego-driven man of my twenties anymore, but as I approached the first turn, I
put on my game face. I wasn’t going to break any records on a motorcycle built
like a prairie schooner, but I was going to stretch myself just a bit. After
all, the road of life is very boring if we never roll on the throttle and let
the engine roar. At first I was timid, but with each curve I felt my confidence
grow. I found a rhythm in the road. Man and machine working together to slay
the Dragon. It was exhilarating as I leaned into each turn and accelerated out
of every twist only to find the road curving away from me again. In my rearview
mirror I saw my younger brother Amory. I rode a little harder. It felt good to
push my personal envelope a bit. Somewhere in those 300 plus turns, I felt the
joy of the experience, the unadulterated thrill of the ride, and the
satisfaction of a challenged life.
We were all grins
when we made a pit stop at the other end of the Tail of the Dragon.
Amory spoke at Drew’s
funeral, and afterwards the family gave him Drew’s old motorcycle. He fixed it
up a bit and still rides it today. Death, it seems, may separate us from those
we love, but it will only defeat us when we stop living our lives. My brother
rides on, not to forget Drew, but to remember him.
Life is a highway –
a journey, not a destination. It can be a boring, mindless journey if we only
travel down straight roads. Sometimes we have to challenge the dragons in our
lives to remember why we are living.
