I’ll never forget the video Janet’s son showed me – my Bronze Star husband forced onto blistering asphalt, his veteran’s vest with its “22 a Day” suicide awareness patch pressed into the road. Twenty-three minutes. That’s how long they kept Harold restrained for an exhaust violation that didn’t exist.
Officer Kowalski thought he was dealing with just another “old biker.” He didn’t know about the messages Harold ran through Vietnam’s jungles on two wheels. Or how riding helped quiet the Agent Orange-induced tremors. Or that this “dangerous criminal” hadn’t had a speeding ticket in fifty years of riding.
The threat came later, whispered where cameras couldn’t catch it: “Next time we’ll find something that sticks.” A clear message – hang up your helmet or face harassment. But they underestimated two things – Harold’s quiet resilience, and the fury of a wife who remembers every battle her husband has fought.
