He never expected to become a father at 57. He never expected purpose, either. For most of his life, he drifted from place to place — a quiet, solitary biker with more miles behind him than he cared to count. His world was simple, and it suited him: work with his hands, ride when he could, sleep wherever the road ended.
Little girl who calls me daddy isn\’t mine but I show up every morning to walk her to school. Her real father is in prison for killing her mother. I\’m just the biker who heard her crying behind a dumpster three years ago when she was five years old. Every morning at 7 AM, I park my Harley two houses down from where she lives with her grandmother. I walk up to the door in my leather vest covered in patches, and eight-year-old Keisha runs out and jumps into my arms like I\’m t… See more
