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I'll never forget the day I came home from school (third grade) expecting to go for a motorcycle ride with my dad as he'd promised we could go when he got home from work.
He was already home when I got home.
He was on crutches.
He had a sling holding one arm.
Some one had turned left in front of him at Centinela and Bundy and he'd gone over the hood.
No more motorcycle riding until I could afford to pay for my own bike and insurance.
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Scott
'78 SC mit Sportomatic - Sold
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