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  1. In the late 60’s and early 70’s, Michael stored his BSA motorcycle at my dad’s house in Bowie during the winter to protect it. Periodically he would come to Bowie to start his bike and I’d grab the nearest jacket and we’d take a “short” ride around the neighborhood. (I did not own a motorcycle so riding on the back of Michael’s was the only opportunity I had to ride on a motorcycle).

    On one of these “short” trips, Michael decided to take the exit ramp leading to Rt. 50 heading toward the beltway. The temperature was below freezing and all I had on was a light jacket (a “Peter’s jacket for the old folks). I was yelling at him asking him, “what in the heck are you doing?” Once on the exit ramp I knew that we had a 7-mile trip to the Beltway and a 7-mile return trip to Bowie. By the time we returned my teeth were chattering, my hands were purple and the tears in my eyes (from the wind) were frozen.

    I remember this event like it happened last week. Though it was miserable at the time, it is one of my favorite life experiences.

    I miss Michael and hope to meet him again in the next life.

    Dominus Tecum Michael,