There's a Horse on My Porch

 When the DD's rolled into town, it was an experience to say the least.  Like I've said before, they were not looked at by the community as the model citizens or the kind of folks you would want to sit at your supper table and visit.  But for me it was different!  I never saw them like society saw them.  They were rough looking customers and I'm sure they were really scary to some.  Not to me!  The rough and tough exterior didn't show as much as the actions they showed to my family and myself.  The president of the Club was one of my favorites because he was so good to me.  If he didn't strangle me when I turned my dog loose on him, he must have had a soft spot for me.  I had never seen a man with a gold tooth, turquoise jewelry, leather jacket, (and my personal favorite) a naked lady tattoo on the inside of his arm.  Those things didn't matter to me!  When he would come to see my grandparents, I would stand close to his side and look up at his 6'4 frame and feel like I had a friend who would do anything for me.  I know without a shadow of a doubt if I had been hurt by someone, all I would have to do is go to him and tell him what had happened.  I don't know what the group would've done to the person, but I am sure I would never have to fear them hurting me again.  

Looking back now I realize how Dan had the heart to look out for my Daddy.  Daddy loved to ride his motorcycle and dreamed of the day when he could wear the "cut" and ride with the club.  Dan knew my Daddy wasn't a mean man, nor could he fight and do the things needed to be done to be part of the club.  It was never a possibility of him being a member of the club because Dan wouldn't have it.  One day when Daddy came back from the clubhouse, our car was missing its radio.  Mama threw a fit and asked him why our car was missing the radio.  Daddy said, "Well one of the boys at the clubhouse needed it because he didn't have one in his car".  When Mama heard his explanation, she loaded me up in the "radio-less" Zephyr and headed to the clubhouse with smoke rolling and lifters knocking.  She honked the horn and one of the guys came to the door.  He automatically yelled for Dan because this guy had no interest in dealing with this crazy woman with a little girl hanging out the window!  Dan came to the door to see who was outside, and then walked to our car. Mama proceeded to bless him out and demanded our radio back.  After a few minutes and a phone call later, our radio was installed where it came from.  After the installation and another good chewing out, Mama and me headed back for home with smoke still rolling and lifters knocking more than normal.   

The club would have some doozies of parties and as you would expect there was heavy drinking and loud music.  Fortunately, my parents were smart enough to not allow me anywhere near that kind of atmosphere.  The club loved to get fresh vegetables from my grandparent's garden, but if you get down to the truth of the matter, their favorite thing to do was drink my Paw's homemade wine.  This wine was pretty much alcoholic Kool-Aid, but it got the job done.  The dad of one of the "Old Ladies" had a farm on a couple of roads down from my grandparents.  Daddy R's farm had horses and cows and a big pond that Granny and me would visit quite often.  One hot summer day, my Granny was taking a break from her chores and was sitting on the front porch.  One of our past times was sitting on the porch watching cars go by, and Granny throwing up the occasional bird finger at cars she thought were going too fast.   This day in particular wasn't much different than any other.  The cars were extra fast, so Granny was already worked up and the bird finger had been working overtime.  During a break in the action, Granny heard something strange.  She couldn't figure out what the noise was, but it was getting louder as every second passed.  When the "clopping" sound got really close she looked to her left.  Granny realized the noise was from a white horse trotting up the road.  On that horse was Dan!  He had gone to Daddy R's house and found a horse in the pasture.  After he saddled the horse, he made his way to Turkey Hop Hill.  Held the reigns in one hand and a bottle in the other.  Dan was singing and laughing as he turned the horse into the driveway where he stopped at the bottom of the steps.  There were steps on the north side of the porch, and also a set leading out of the front door facing the road.  Granny was sitting near the north side steps where had Dan stopped.  My Granny was a spit fire and was ready for a fight anytime and anywhere.  Dan was tanked up on homemade wine and beer and he started giving Granny a hard time about what he was going to do.  He told her he was going to sit on the porch with her, but he was going to ride the big white horse up the steps to do this. After several exchanges back and forth, Dan back the horse and proceeded to ride up the steps.  Granny yelled and said she was going to get the shot gun and run him off, but that threat didn't faze Dan.  He was determined to ride that horse up on the porch.  He had made it halfway up the steps when Granny came out of the house carrying a shot gun.  She pointed that shot gun right at the horse's nose and told Dan if he didn't want his horse and himself to bite the dust, he better back it down the steps and be on his way.  Dan thought he may need to take this little woman serious because she would probably honor her word.  He carefully backed the horse back down the steps and hit the road with the horses' shoes clopping at a faster pace than when he was on his way.  After he was out of sight, Granny put the shot gun under her arm and went back inside.  She put the gun back in the rack and went back out on the porch to continue her relaxing and bird flipping.  A few days later Dan came back to visit.  After he had sobered up, he realized what he had done.  He had scared the lady who fed him when he was hungry, showed he and his friends love, had just been all around good to him.  Those thoughts were more than he could stand.  He told Granny how sorry he was, and how that kind of thing would never happen again.  Dan kept that promise and he never came back to see my grandparents in that condition again.  Many years later, I was able to visit Dan on his death bed.  He had been told I was coming the next day to see him, and he was happy.  He started telling stories of "that little black headed fiddle playing girl who had a mean streak a mile wide".  When I got to the clubhouse where he was staying, he had already gone into a coma.  I talked to him in the hope he could hear me.  I thanked him for being good to me when I was a little girl and leaving me with an endless number of good memories.  The next day I was contacted by his club brothers to tell me he had passed away.  I was invited to the funeral and of course I went.  It was unlike any funeral I had ever been too!  I'm not sure if it was the Hank Jr. and AC/DC music playing, or the people passing around the Old Crow whiskey bottle.  Either way, I was able to say goodbye to an old friend who may have been scary to others, but to me he was just my friend.... Dan....