He was loved and feared by hundreds...He earned his name "Mother Dave" when he was fresh out of the service after a six year stint, serving in Japan and Korea, when he returned home and was so proud as he swore at me in Korean...I remember the words but have no idea how to spell them... ending his term at age 22 (he had his birth certificate falsified and joind the Army at age 16)...He began riding with the Pagans m/c. He quickly became president and was a true mother fucker...Quick to fight, always carried a gun and did until recently...and DEMANDED respect at all times...and he got it...He belonged to a few m/c's over the years and when I had my biker wedding, he gave me away...Him and my hubby were, at that time, in the same club...
He rocked me as a small child and would sing Dave Crockett to me...He introduced me to my first "pizza pie" as he called them back then... I was about 4 then and when I looked at it I said, That's no pie, I want pie! He tried to convince me to try some but, NOPE, that is NOT pie! LOL
He'd take me to the show, ice skating and when I was very small saved me from drowning...
He would split the last cherry with me and had several times...He convinced me that butter tastes the best on all sandwiches and I still eat them like that today...When I was 12, he would buy for me, Bali Hai...what a cool brother...I didn't find out until many years later that my mom knew all along but felt it was better if I drank at home and not out on the streets...Stinkin' Thinkin'...that's was AA calls it...
We had crab apple trees all over our yard when we were growing up...We had MANY crab apple fights but of course him being 10 years older than me and a male, could throw much harder...I was always getting bruised up from getting bombarded but always went back for more...It was a yearly thing , those crab apple fights but they ended abruptly when I was 12...I was hiding behind a wooden trailer and him and his friend were having a blast throwing them so hard that they would smash against the opposite side of the trailer...A guy thing I guess...My mom had SPECIFICALLY said NO APPLE FIGHTS, as she left for work...She couldn't have gotten to the end of the street and I was out the door and bombarding him before he knew what hit him...It was my only chance as once he loaded up, I was always dead...As I was hiding behind this trailer I made the mistake of looking up over the trailer just as his 90mph apple slammed me in the eye...My eyeball immediately filled up with blood and my blue iris turned dark brown...I had never felt such pain...He felt soooooo bad and was scared that my mom would freak out on him so I told her I was playing with my German Shepard and ran into a tree branch...I think it was about 20 years before I told her the truth...The immediate options as I was rushed to the hospital from our doctor and to the eye specialists was #1, they may have to remove my eye (Dave, of course stepped right up and offered me one of his) and my mom argued with him that I will get one of hers... OR option 2 they would cover both eyes and in 24 hours see what happens...24 hours later my eye was 50% better...After a week in the hospital, having both eyes covered and being fed liver and felt up by some doctor that I couldn't see, I went home...When I left the hospital I wore a patch on that eye for weeks...He brought it up again and again how sorry he was...Hey, I started that fight, don't be sorry...
We laughed for years about how my dog had drug him all over the yard, shaking him and shredding his shirt...We hung it on the front fence with a "beware of Dog, YOU may me next" sign...
He began drinking heavily after he came home from the service...and although he didn't live with us, the household rule was, DO NOT PISS HIM OFF WHEN HE COMES OVER DRUNK...Oh HELL no, not to worry about that...Once, he had one of the biggest bad asses (at the time) in Detroit, looking for him...But did he hide, hell no...He got drunk and went and shot up the pool hall that he thought the guy was in! Spent a year in jail for that...
I learned the hard way not to lie to him...I was 18 and I was moving out of my house with Cutie, my best friend, and who is now mourning the love of her life as they've been together for over 40 years...Were were going to get a house together...Her and Dave were already involved and they were fighting...He was drunk and kept calling me wanting to know where she was, when in fact she was with me at my house helping me move but I told him I didn't know where she was...We took a load over and when we returned, of course we checked for his car before we pulled back into my moms house...Safe, we pull back in...He had hidden his car and out from the bushes he comes at me like a drunken lunatic and starts banging my head, by my hair, into the top of my car and screaming at me that I better NEVER lie to him again...Ok then, I won't...geeze...and I didn't...
When I became of age (18 then) to drink, I would hang with him in his favorite bars on "the avenue" partied with him and his friends, became a wild child and a total drunk...He was so well known there that no one would mess with me because of him...When I got involved with his best friend at the time he threatened him that he would kill him if he ever saw me again....What? This is YOUR best friend! Guess he knew things that I didn't...He wouldn't talk to me about it but stood firm in his threat and they of course didn't hang together anymore...
I went to his clubhouse while he was at home sick one time...Young and dumb, the week earlier I had been driving through a street off of the avenue and saw what I thought were his "guys" all partying in front of a house...I was the new kid in town and didn't know shit from shineola about clubs, colors, wars, anything...Anyway, I went back to the bar he was at and told him so he of course hopped on his bike and went over there...It was his rival club there and there he was all alone, and couldn't just drive by but had to stop...When he returned, he was CONVINCED that I had "set him up"...Hell, I thought they were HIS people...But I couldn't convince him otherwise and of course he had to take it to his fellow members for safety purposes so then THEY were convinced that I set him up...I swear to almighty God, that I didn't...Anyway, my girlfriend and I go prancing into his clubhouse, all drunk and rowdy to be met by some FURIOUS members...They called him at home with pnumonia and told him he better come and get me out of there or they were going to beat the shit out of me...So there he comes, sicker than shit and pissed off at me, takes me back to his house and tells me mom is on her way...Oh fuck no, I'm not waiting for her...and I take off for the front door...He catches me as I'm almost through it by my hair (STOP PULLING my fucking hair!) jerks me backwards and on my ass and proceeds to slap me around and sits on me til she gets there...Fucker...I was SOOOOOO pissed at him...Then I get in the car with her and SHE proceeds to slap me around...WTF! I'm 18!!! (this is before I officially moved out from home) I "ran away" within the week and he helped me find a biker friend of his (Thanks Shotgun) and his girlfriend who I could stay with for awhile...I didn't call home for a month...All I did was drink and party...
Another time when I was about 5, mom had warned him, again as she left for work, DO NOT RIDE HER ON YOUR BICYCLE...Right...Off we go down the street with me on the back of his bike...But of course I got my foot caught in his spokes and had such severe injuries that they thought that I would be wearing a big shoe for the rest of my life and that my leg would grow no further...He was in BIG trouble that time but so was I...No sympathy for me, oh no...My eye and my leg are just fine by the way...
As we raised our families we grew apart...At times we didn't speak for years and would attend family functions, tension hanging in the air as everyone knew we were on the outs...At other times we would party together weather it was a pool party at his house or a block party at mine...But no matter what, I knew I could always count on him..
I had gotten myself into a bad situation several years back and needed to move in a hurry, like TODAY, RIGHT NOW , New Years morning, or my life was at risk...Of course he showed up with his boys within minutes and they got me the fuck out of there with no confrontations...amazing...
He would work on my many junker cars and bitch every second of it but did it anyway...
When my 20 year old son died, him and Cutie were by my side at all times, comforting, helping and loving me...
These are the things that I was determined to talk to him about when he got sick and then I got pissed at him again and never did...I'm beating myself up for it now...The good times, and memories of boating with him, partying with him and not telling him often enough that I loved him...Shame on me and my fucking stubborness...Never again...Life's too short...and PS...He LOVED Elvis...and his Cutie...
yup that was my dad the greatest man who ever lived i miss you soooooo much dad.
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