Harley Riders for Heather

"Harley Riders for Heather"

I met Heather this past weekend, July 11th 2015, at a gathering for my sister in law’s 40th birthday and I immediately liked her. I went to shake her hand and her statement to me was something I had never heard in my 39 years: “I don’t shake hands, I hug.” This was followed by a bear hug from her small frame and a huge, genuine smile. How could anyone not just love that?

The fateful decision to head to downtown Manchester, NH with laughter and celebration in our hearts will be forever tarnished by a random act of violence that night.

My sister in law Judi is a home brewer, so fittingly we decided to do a makeshift pub crawl. We all traveled from near and far to be there and share in this event- becoming fast friends, exchanging stories, jokes and infectious laughter. There was no denying my kinship with my new bubbly, blue-eyed friend with the strong Bostonian accent. The more I got to know her, the more I saw a deeper soul. She hid her winces of pain with a smile and a soft introspective self-admonishing chuckle. Only after I asked did I find out she was very recently in a motorcycle accident in the beginning of May. My husband is a Harley rider himself so he lit up right away, ready to swap stories of the road. I know very little about the types of bikes, but my husband was surprised to hear of her choice of a 2004 full size low rider.  It was obvious from the subconscious flexing and rolling of her wrist that she had only recently had the arm cast removed. She quickly skipped over the accident and lit up while discussing the rebuild of the presently destroyed bike (she had planned to have it painted purple). This came as no surprise to me since this was obviously a favorite color of hers, and I quipped, looking at this boisterous personality with a tattoo of the word “Fearless”, purple-tinted hair, and matching nail polish.

Hours later, we planned to end the evening with karaoke at a local pub. It was nearly time to leave, as the singing had ended and the entertainment was switched to music and a DJ. Since we were basically attached at the hip all night, I will forever wonder if I could have done something in the moment by either asking her to go out for air with me, or staying a few moments longer. As I waited outside for our group to gather, puffing casually on a cigar with my husband (that couldn’t have lasted more than ten minutes) Heather was brutally attacked inside the pub.

The attack unbeknownst to us, my husband went inside to check on our group’s departure status, and came out instantly fumbling with his phone in a shaken attempt to dial 911. I wasn’t able to process what he could possibly be talking about, so he grabbed my hand and whisked me inside, practically walking over the rather large bouncer in our way. The scene had changed dramatically; lights were on over the dance floor, and the pools of blood were completely obvious as Heather lie shaking beneath 3 or 4 pairs of well-trained, caring hands that were attempting to stop the bleeding-my sister in law among the ones kneeling in the blood applying pressure shockingly to Heather’s face.

During the attack-observed from several perspectives by various witnesses-she was thrown to the ground by her hair. She managed to get herself up only to be restrained again from behind while another individual smashed a pint glass directly into her face. We found out the perpetrators were two young women. By every account this was purposefully done with malicious and specific intent. The two individuals had somehow escaped out the back door in the fray. There are simply no words to describe the feeling of helplessness that overcame me…the anger and remorse for not being there. I don’t know how I would have responded in that moment, but I knew I had to help. The more information I gathered after talking with the group led to the discovery that this contagiously happy person never expressed…that she was drowning in bills from the motorcycle accident. So much so, she was scheduled to discuss a loan with her employer…and now this?!  The unfathomable terror that filled my heart was only made worse when we heard from the eye specialist that she would have to wear protective eyewear for the rest of her life.  With the amount of shattered glass in her eye, she will likely never ride again!

As I write this, less than 48 hours after the incident, I am appalled at how one fleeting moment became a life-changing event. Helplessly witnessing the aftermath, I questioned my own humanity; wondering how it could have happened, and why. With my sister in law and brother, both simply shaken and in shock, I felt I had to do something. I have never advocated for someone like this, but I had heard about and donated to the occasional go-fund-me sites online. With my thoughts, I discussed the idea with my family, where immediately the answer was no. I understand this reaction, self-preservation and pride is recognizable to me, but this situation called for action. After much persuasion I was given permission to follow through on this. The effect is cathartic for me; I don’t want to feel helpless. Our thoughts and prayers are all with Heather and her family as she heals into a life that will be forever remindful of that fateful night. I have witnessed the comradery of the biking community, and I ask for your compassion now. To ANYONE who can imagine the explanations that will have to follow her when they see these scars, I now ask on Heather’s behalf: Please help-even the slightest participation will help quell the mounting medical expenses, surgery costs,  and loss of work that will have to be endured by this powerfully FEARLESS woman…so she can remain exactly that…FEARLESS!!