Weathering The Storm            
by Dan Clark a.k.a. Dogman

The weather was a bitch on the way down. We left on Friday at 11 a.m. It was pouring! The torrential rains stayed with us for about 8 hours. We stayed at a cheap motel (separate rooms) in southern Penn. Next day, we set out under dreary conditions. The sun finally beamed on us on Saturday afternoon. We arrived at Myrtle Beach State Park on Sunday a.m. It normally takes only 2 days, however, the rain did slow us down a bit. The weather there was great except one night we had a severe thunderstorm hit and a women, two sites down from us, got hit by lightning.

We met up with about 30 of my friends who I meet down there every year. True bikers from all over the U.S. and Canada. We had too much to eat and just enough partying. Clem left us for two days to go to N. Carolina to see his daughter.

All of my buddies down there ride Harleys, as I have in the past. They went to the store and picked up a large bag of white rice. That night, they told me that something was leaking from my Kawasaki Nomad and they all followed me over there to see what was up. When I got to my bike, there was a large puddle of rice under the bike and some on the floorboards. I had to laugh and take pictures.

On the way home we stopped for the night at a Super 8 Motel in Virginia. In the morning, we were all packed and ready to take off, when Clem’s heavy BMW came crashing down on his leg. The ambulance took him to the hospital where he received 30 internal and 30 external stitches on his left shin. Clem, however, was able to ride the bike home with 60 stitches, a very swollen leg and many bandages. What a trooper. I would ride with him anywhere, any time. 

The wig is a whole other story. I will have to let Clem tell that one because he may decide to leave a few details out. I hope next year that more people will decide to ride down with us. It really is a beautiful ride.

Let’s Take Hiim Home!!         
by Paula McCallum

“This is a sad time for bikers who know him and love him. My heartfelt sympathy goes out to his family. Vaughn is missed from his local hangout here in Plymouth at Dunkin Donuts and will be forever remembered in our hearts for his love for riding his scooter. God Bless” - Sylvester Ryan

“I would love to donate some money to the family of Vaughn Smith. I fought my fight with cancer and no fun…” - Ric Tomlinson

“I'm not sure if I can make it, but please make a donate for me and I will either send you a check or let me know when you are in my area and I'll meet you, my prayers go out to him and his family!” - love fran

Many outpourings like these were sent by our members (some who’ve never even met him) in response to our plea to help Vaughn Smith’s family raise money. Some attended his benefits, others mailed in donations, there were several great ideas for how to raise funds while many still visit him at the Jordan Hospital.

When Vaughn found out that he was sick, he gave away his two beloved motorcycles to his nephews. One tank jokingly read “Hardly Davidson” while many will remember his other very loud white Honda Shadow.

The first time I heard Vaughn was during the Fourth of July parade in Plymouth a few years ago. He was the obnoxious guy a few bikes back revving his engine for a crowd of kids. While walking down to the waterfront, I asked, who was that loud guy laying on his pipes? He was right behind me (oops) and proudly announced grinning “that was me!” I have since hung out with him at the Wall or at his favorite hang, Dunks in Plymouth center. There was always a smile on his face and a lively tale on his lips.

He recently told me while laying in his hospital bed, reflecting on his life, that he has made more friends than enemies in his lifetime. He never imagined that the same disease which took his mother (at age 50) would eventually come to take him.

Vaughn, as you all know, is stricken with lung cancer at age 41. He was a former member of the Manomet Mystery Riders and was unanimously voted on as an honorary member by our E-Board. One of our members, while visiting him in the hospital , presented Vaughn with a MMR dorag because every time he’d ever seen him, he was wearing one on his head. Vaughn was very grateful and asked his nephew to make sure it came with him (in his casket).

Vaughn’s niece, Deidre, came to speak to the 50 or so members in attendance at the last meeting to tell us about the cause she and her family are working on for her uncle. We then passed around a hat with a promise to match up to $1,000 from our membership and were astounded that we raised over $2,500! $1,500 of which came from individual MMR members. Deidre was blown away by our generosity and quickly called her aunt to tell her the good news as she sat in her car and cried.

All proceeds raised will help Vaughn’s family pay for his final arrangements. When I told Vaughn about our efforts, he was overwhelmed and wanted to come to our meeting himself. He has asked that the MMR “Take him home” when is time here on earth has passed by leading a procession to the cemetery. An e-mail will send out and some phone calls made when that time arrives.

Sometimes, belonging to a motorcycle group is not just about the ride. Quite often, we become very frustrating with insignificant details, pet peeves, minor problems or silly requests that can otherwise become all consuming in the day-to-day politics of the group. It is at times like this that we need to step back to look at the big picture. Only then do we remember why we belong to such a group of concerned individuals who realize that an illness like this can strike any one of us. We are reminded that we must treasure the time and people we have in our lives.

Thanks to all of you for your generosity. And thanks to Vaughn for the privilege of getting to know him, if only for a short time. May his parents and brother (who he loved to go fishing with) greet him with open arms, united again when he comes home.

Myrtle Beach Mishap             
By Clem Walsh