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Where The Bikers Actually Went, And What My Dad Said When He Saw Them Coming Back

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balance, with the terms formally prepared by the family’s lawyer.

That evening, my father watched the motorcycles return down his street from the same window where he had spent six weeks waiting for the roofer. Still wearing his slippers, he greeted Bertram and shook his hand for a long time.

My father explained that he had served in the Marines and continue reading …

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