Doug Burleson's Father just passed away.

I didn't know him well, I met him for the first and last time in the mid 70's. But I know he was a good man.

We had driven up from Texas to a lake in Oklahoma where he was camped. I can't remember whether we towed a boat or it was already there, but we did a heck of a lot of water skiing.

Mr. Burleson was a southern gentleman. I don't mean that he was the type of man that wore Colonel Sander's clothes and drank hot toddy's all day, he was just the kind of man that you called "sir" in the southern sense of the word... I know I did.

I remember that we had wound up sitting around the campfire, just him and me, and I was still not used to the pace of the Oklahoma/Texas folks. I would ask him a question about some such thing and he would sit there and ponder it for a long time before answering (it seemed forever for an impatient Californian). But he always answered in his own time, and we had a nice chat.

Doug told me that he loved motorcycles and fast cars, and that almost everyone from the old school drag race world knew him and loved him. I believe he used to race himself, but will have to query Doug some more about this.

He was in poor health, but you could usually find him out in his garage working on motorcycles. He always had a garage full, but his pride and joy was an old Harley Knucklehead he was restoring. It was bright red and beautiful, and Mr. Burleson wanted it to go inside the house when it was finished.

Thanks to the efforts of Doug and his kids, the bike was finished and put inside, where it sat in a place of honor next to the Christmas tree, the lights of the tree reflecting off the beautiful red paint job.

Mr. Burleson died the next morning. His mission accomplished.

The Harley will be towed in a place of honor in the procession...the bike with no rider.

I'm sure he is proud.

My condolences, Doug and Ruby.

Pecos