Sunday, September 23, 2012

An earlier post got me to thinking about my oldest brother, Horace.

Horace was mentally challenged due to a birth defect. He used a Cushman golf cart to commute the neighborhood. My brother, Donnie and I would often steal it and take it joy riding, sometimes wrecking it and almost always running the battery down. It would really piss Horace off.

In his last days a local dealer sent a brand new

Harley Davidson golf cart to park outside his bedroom window. He didn't know he was dying and would say "I'll be glad when I get well so I can ride my new golf cart."

One Sunday, Donnie and I went to Moms for lunch. It was a chilly March day. We got Horace dressed and took him for the ride of his life on that brand new Harley Davidson golf cart. That thing would fly. We took him throuh the woods and down the same paths that we joy rode his other one. We had an absolute great time.

That was the last time my brother left the house and it may have been the last time he got out of bed. We had a lot of fun that day and I wouldn't trade the experience for a million dollars

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