As young boys, my brothers and I desired greatly to have a bike and learn to ride them. We dreamed of feeling the wind in our faces and racing each other around the block. Our friends all had bikes and we watned one too. We were young and didn’t comprehend that they cost money to buy. We didn’t have much money, we were not given new bikes, my dad built us our bikes out of old broken and salvaged bicycles he would find.
I remember watching him nightly as he would take the bikes completely apart, replacing broken parts on one bike with good parts from another. As always, with any project he started, the time and detail he spent making sure everything was perfect was unmatched and his workmanship was better than anything we could have been given new.
When my dad finished with each of our bikes, they…
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