Learning how to ride

The first Motorcycles

I wondered when and how Betty learned to ride a motorcycle.

She said, “At Vandeventer where you turn to go to Just John’s now, there was a bar called the "Polo Bar."  I was thrown out of every bar, up and down, in that whole neighborhood, thrown off the dance floor.  I never tried to buy a drink:  I just wanted to dance.  Me and this one guy, we just wanted to dance.  Music was great!  I went in that bar, and that’s one place where they let me stay because there were so many motorcycle riders in there, they couldn’t keep track of everybody.  There was a guy named "Bill Black," and I got kind of friendly with him.  I said, "Bill, let me ride your motorcycle." 

He said, "You know how to ride a motorcycle?" "No, I don’t know how to ride a motorcycle, but I’m tellin’ ya, if you’ll just let me ride, I know I can ride it!"  He said, "Well, how ‘bout I show you how, and get on behind you," and I said, "That’s okay."  So, we get out there, and he shows me how to I crank it up, and we leave.  I want you to know that I went around a whole city block and never put my foot down, changed the gears, and he said, "Well, by god, you can ride!"  It was instinctive! He was my friend until he died. He was a cool guy!”

So, I asked, “You got your first motorcycle when you were 14 or 15?”

Betty replied, “I bought a $75 bike, it was a 125 popper, a Harley Davidson 125 and could only be ridden in the alley. It was not street legal.

I already knew a bunch of these motorcycle guys. There were six or seven of them that lived over in the Lafayette and Jefferson area.  I would ride up and down the alleys until I got over there where they were at.  They had a garage, and we’d work on the motorcycles.  Every Sunday, we’d go to Cliff Cave.  Every Sunday, I’d ride out there, and I’d do some damage to my bike. That meant, every trip back the bike was in the back of a pickup truck. I wasn’t the only one. Then I finally turned 16, and I got a driver’s license so I could ride on the street.”

One day, coming out of an alley onto Grand Ave and Blaine, Betty was hit by a taxicab. It threw her 60 feet. Her only injury was a concussion, but the bike did not fare well.

This did not at all end Betty’s lifelong love of motorcycles!