EDITORIAL
Repeat After Me
Author: Rachael Westfall
A karmic prayer for street survival
Repeat After Me: “None of us are going to die this year.” It was late August 2009 when everything began going downhill. It started with Jose, his passing setting into motion a series of events that would become like an avalanche wiping out too many riders from this world, all at once, like an epidemic. I remember when I met Jose and his wife. As an instructor of the MSF Basic Rider Course, I regularly meet new groups of eager fledging riders. While most students are quiet and keep to themselves, Jose and his wife stood out. They were newlyweds and so in love. Their play fighting and endless hugging throughout the class was like a constant vibrant flirtation. Their open courtship was enviable and unique, the kind of love very few of us get to witness, let alone experience. A couple of months later, I saw that young couple again at a local bike night, Jose now the DJ and actively involved in the community while his wife was pregnant. They were both such sweet kids, excited about life and happy.  Less than a month after seeing them again, I found out through the local newspaper that Jose had crashed his orange Yamaha R6 while running from the police. He lost control of his bike and hit a fence, dying at the hospital later that night. The circumstances of his death did not affect the choking pain that I felt, but only made me wonder what he was thinking.
Less than two days later, my husband’s best friend, Luis, passed away on his Suzuki GSXR600, after hitting the back of a truck on his way to work. The impact killed him instantly. His was the second loss in less than three days. He left behind a wife, two teenaged kids and a group of mourning friends; all of us wanting to know what happened. There are no comforting words in such a situation. No condolences or promises of help from anyone can possibly compensate for the pain and anguish that starts flooding into the lives of those left behind. The friends and family of the rider who died experience nothing but a river of unanswered questions and the incapacitating shock of an unexpected, premature loss. We were thankful that our friend’s death was quick and that he didn’t suffer too much, but that was little comfort, especially since the driver of the truck which hit him went home with little punishment, if any.
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