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The San Antonio Firefighter's Motorcycle Club is an official committee of the San Antonio Professional Fire Fighters Association, Local 624.
No part of this website may be reproduced without the express written consent of the San Antonio Fire Fighters Motorcycle Club, Texas. All Content Copyright (c) 2002-2012
Website maintained by Roger Lopez.
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National Fallen Fighters Memorial, which is in Colorado Springs, CO, during the weekend in September that coincides with the events of 9/11/2001 at “Ground Zero” New York. Well…, because 9/11/2011 would commemorate the 10th anniversary of the events that took place at “Ground Zero” in 2001, the I.A.F.F. M/G changed its plans and held its annual National Rally/Ride in honor of the 343 brother and sister fire fighters we lost that day. So with that little bit of historic information, the I.A.F.F. M/G held its 5th Annual National Motorcycle Rally/Ride on September 9-11, 2011 in Newburg, NY. If you have been keeping up with my articles in the Grapevine over the past couple of years, you may remember reading that of the whole membership of the San Antonio Fire Fighters Motorcycle Club (S.A.F.F. M/C), we have a small group who have dual memberships and also are members, in good standing, in the I.A.F.F. M/G. So about 25-30 members, family and friends made the trek half-way across the country on this once in a lifetime historical event. Most of us (about 20 or so) started the trip on Monday, Sep. 5, 2011. A smaller group (about 10) waited until the following day to start their trip. I started out the trip with the larger group. For me…, this was one of the most spectacular adventures I had ever experienced, in more ways than one. You’ll see what I mean as the article progresses. My adventure started on the very first day of our trip. The group had pre-planned the trip so that Texarkana, TX would be our first stop for a good night’s rest. We were just South of Texarkana, in a small town called Winona. TX, when I was involved in a major accident on my motorcycle. I must have been so wrapped up with the excitement of the trip that I didn’t see the automobile that came to an abrupt halt right in front of me and I couldn’t stop in time. My motorcycle was damaged enough to NOT continue, much less
complete, the trip to New York. We loaded my motorcycle on the trailer of one of our support vehicles, and planned to take it to the local Harley dealer, Whiskey River Harley Davidson of Texarkana, TX, first thing in the morning. This was the start of what would turn out to be the luckiest, unlucky day of my life. Huh!? What did he said!? From my misfortune, I was given good fortune. You’ll come to understand what I mean as the article continues. So there I was, with a broken motorcycle, and a broken heart, I started to make plans to get myself home. As for my injuries, I had road rash on my Right shoulder, Right elbow and Right forearm. I was wearing my helmet and heavy boots so it could have been much worse. To give you an idea how much worse, the leather of my heavy boots was scraped down to the metal of my steel toe. There was a pretty good gash on my helmet too. Oh! And I think I may have broken my little pinky of my Right hand at the first knuckle. I made good use of my tiny first-aid kit that day. So like I was saying, I was planning to make my way home. I thought my trip to New York was ruined, and on the first day out. What a stroke of bad luck I thought to myself. Right about that time, the phone to my motel room rang. I answered the phone and it was Brother Ernest “Buddy” Mass (Retired Fire Fighter) (R.F.F.). Buddy was driving one of the support vehicles, and was towing his motorcycle on a trailer. Of course his first question was how I was feeling.
He asked me what my plans were and I told him I thought my trip was ruined and that I was going to make my way home as soon as my motorcycle was dropped off at the dealership. He asked, “Don’t you want to go to New York?” “Of course I do, but I have no transportation.” “Well, why don’t you go with me, I’m driving by myself and I could probably use the help with the driving.” “Are you kidding,” I yelled, “I’ll do all the driving if you want me to.” So off we went, right after dropping off my motorcycle at the dealership. Buddy with his new truck and trailer, and me in my new bandages. Buddy and I made our way to Little Rock, AK, where we were going to meet up with the rest of the 11th District of the I.A.F.F. M/G (11th D.I.A.F.F. M/G). What a grand reunion it was. Brother and Sister fire fighters we hadn’t seen since the District Rally/Ride this last spring. In case you didn’t know, members of the 11th D.I.A.F.F. M/G are members in good standing in the I.A.F.F., who have motorcycles and made up of fire fighters from all over the states of Oklahoma and Texas. I don’t know the exact number of motorcycles that made up the 11th D.I.A.F.F. M/G, but off we went the following morning. Just know this, every year that we have gotten together for a national rally/ride, we’ve had five of them now, the 11th D.I.A.F.F. M/G has more registered members who participate than all the other 18 districts of the I.A.F.F. M/G combined. That’s right; I said all 18 districts combined!! Everybody knows when the 11th D.I.A.F.F. M/G is in the house. We were about half way thru the state of Tennessee when Buddy had an idea. He made a phone call to the National Coordinator of the I.A.F.F. M/G, Mr. Michael Crouse. Buddy told Mr. Crouse my sad, sad story and asked him if there was anything he could do about getting me a motorcycle to, at the very least, ride in the procession on 9/11. Mr. Crouse told buddy that he would see what he could do, if anything. He was making no promises. I thanked Buddy for his effort but I told him that I thought that it would take nothing less than a miracle to be able to find me a motorcycle that hasn’t been reserved and put on hold. Think about it, people were coming from all over the country to attend perhaps a once in a lifetime event. How many 10 year anniversaries can you have anyway? That’s when it dawned on me, what was I going to do about participating in the memorial procession? I figured that maybe I could hitch a ride with one of the support vehicles that plan to participate. If not, then I had resigned myself to the fact that I just might have to spend 9/11 in my motel room, or the motel bar. What made matters worse, is that I had invited a family member to fly to Newburg, NY and spend the weekend with me and the club. They told me the only reason they are making the trip is to ride with me in the procession of 9/11. Oh boy! No pressure at all, right? Well Buddy and I were about half way between Nashville and Knoxville, TN when Buddy got a phone call from home. After the phone call, Buddy told me that he was going to turn around and go home. Without going into too much detail, Bubby explained to me that San Antonio was a better place for him to be, rather than Newburg, NY. I told Buddy that whatever he needed to do was fine by me. I was just along for the ride. 
Buddy asked me to phone the other support vehicles to let them know that Buddy and I were returning to San Antonio and that the group was going to be with one less support vehicle, and to also apologize for any inconvenience. Jerry “Partner, Partner” Cantu (R.F.F.) was one of the other support vehicles we informed we were returning to San Antonio. Jerry asked me what I was going to do. I told him that I pretty much had to go with the flow, since I didn’t have any transportation, and that I was returning to San Antonio with Buddy. He asked me if I still wanted to go to New York. Of course I do, I told him, but reminded him of my situation. Well Jerry wouldn’t hear of it. He got Buddy to meet up with him along the highway, at a point between our two locations. We hooked up, and Jerry told me that I could ride the rest of the way with his wife and him. He even unloaded my luggage from Buddy’s truck and loaded them onto his truck. So there I was, feeling like a foster child at this point, riding to Newburg, NY, and all due to the kindness of others. The rest of the trip was running smooth as glass. We were about 2 hours short of our final destination, Newburg, NY, when my cell phone rang. It was the National Coordinator of the I.A.F.F. M/G, Mr. Michael Crouse. He told me that he found a motorcycle for me to use for the weekend. All I had to do was make my way to the local Harley Dealership, which was about 5 minutes away from the motel we were staying, introduce my self, tell them Mr. Crouse sent me, and they would hook me up. One of our Brothers from Corpus Christi, TX was kind enough to give me a ride to the Harley dealership. I found the person in charge of rentals for the dealership and she told me Mr. Crouse had told her to be expecting me. She led me to this incredible Ultra Classic Fire Fighter Special Edition motorcycle with a FOR SALE sigh on it. She removed the FOR SALE sign and said, “There she is, how do you like it?” My jaw dropped to the floor. The Ultra Classic is the top of the line of Harley Davidson motorcycles. It had all the bells and whitles that you can fit on a motorcycle. When we started the motorcycle to give it it’s routine inspection, she noticed that the gas tank was almost empty, so she asked me when I had intended on returning the motorcycle. I told her that I would return the motorcycle first thing Monday morning, on our way back home. She told me that if I could return the motorcycle with a full tank of gas that we would consider this motorcycle a loaner, instead of a rental. Can you believe that!? Not only did I get this incredible motorcycle to use for the whole weekend, all it was going to cost me was a full tank of gas. Things were really looking up at this point. I made my way to the nearest gas station, then the motel. Had a good dinner and turned in early for the next day’s activities. The next day was Saturday, Sept. 10, 2011 and it was member’s choice. What that means is, members of the club can pretty much choose any activity they want to do. There was a fundraising ride planned for any of the I.A.F.F. M/G members to participate in. The ride was being sponsored by Orange County Coppers (O.C.C.) and the ride was being led by Paul Tuttle, Sr. himself. Oh, did I forget to tell you, the motel we were staying was right next door to the O.C.C. O.C.C., some of you may or may not know, is the motorcycle building family that have a reality show called “American Choppers” for the Discovery Channel. Most of the club members decided to take the train into the “Big City”, New York, NY, and do as much sightseeing they could do in one day. 
After five days of hard riding from San Antonio, TX to Newburg, NY, I guess I can understand that another day’s ride wouldn’t be on the top of your list of things to do. Me.., I wasn’t about to let a perfectly good motorcycle sit in the parking lot all day long. Especially after Mr. Michael Crouse, National Coordinator of the I.A.F.F. M/G, so graciously arranged for me to use this fabulous motorcycle for the whole weekend. No Sir!! I wasn’t going to let him down. So there we go, the family member I mentioned earlier happened to by my Sister, on a motorcycle ride led by the world famous Paul Tuttle, Sr. of O.C.C. Never in my life did I think I would ever scratch that off my bucket list. Paul Sr. led us on a 2 hour ride thru some of the most beautiful back roads I had ever been on. This region, of the state of NY, has some of the lushest vegetation I have ever seen. Every home looked like its own little piece of heaven, nestled in lawns that were all postcard perfect. The weather was perfect. The ride was perfect. I don’t know how many motorcycles participated in this ride, but there were a few hundred. After we got back to the O.C.C. parking lot, Paul Sr. unveiled O.C.C.’s latest creation, a chopper paying tribute to 9-11. Paul Sr. and O.C.C. built this chopper to pay tribute to every branch of the military, police, paramedic, first responder and of course, the fire fighter. Each of the afore mentioned organization was represented on this tribute motorcycle. What a day! Memories of a lifetime. Just one year ago, I was in Sturgis, SD during the big motorcycle rally in Aug. I was lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time and attended the unveiling of Paul Jr.’s new company’s first official creation, the “Venom” motorcycle. Yes sir.., what a day. The following day was the “Big Day”, the memorial ride into the “Big City”. I can only imagine that the logistic planning of this was an absolute nightmare. We started the day by grouping, by I.A.F.F. district, in the parking lot of the local Harley dealership. The parking lot wasn’t big enough to hold all the riders participating in the ride. We made do with what we had and even managed to take a few good I.A.F.F. M/G group photos. From the dealership we rode back to the O.C.C. parking lot, in our individual District grouping. In the O.C.C. parking lot, and just before we departed for the “Big City”, we had a blessing of the bikes. So it was off we went, with a police escort, on an hour and a half ride from Newburg, NY to New York, NY. The count of motorcycles I was given by the National Coordinator of the I.A.F.F. M/G, Mr. Michael Crouse, was 3,700. No sir.., I am not kidding. 3,700 motorcycles making the Memorial Ride from Newburg to New York and all the way into Manhattan and the Fallen Firefighter Memorial. 2,700 of those who participated were firefighters. The other 1000 motorcycles were made up by local riders and riders from across the country as well. Can you believe that? 1000 nonfirefighters who came out simply to show their heartfelt support to our fallen brothers and sisters. Well you can understand now why I said this must have been a logistic nightmare. We had Newburg P.D., New York State Troopers, and New York P.D. and probably all the local police departments in between, blocking traffic not only at street intersections but highway entrances as well. We had an awfully smooth ride into the “Big City”. The weather was cool enough for a jacket and the most rain we ever got was an occasional drizzle. Every small town we went thru, while we were making our way to the “Big City”, we were greeted by people standing up close to the street waving their arms and cheering. There were people with signs that read “We will never forget” and waving the American flag, both small and large alike. I saw one gentleman walk right up to the edge of the curb, come to the position of attention and render a salute. Anyone that has ever served in the Military will tell you that that small gesture is the highest honor that can be given by a member of the Military both active and nonactive alike. It brought a tear to my eye. What an old softy, right !? Anyway, you can imagine now how grand the ride into the “Big City” was. With all the people cheering us on, at almost every turn we took. It was a wonderful sight. When we got to the Fallen Firefighter Memorial, we parked the motorcycles along the street that led to the Memorial. We literally gathered by the thousands as we filled the long cement steps that lead up to the Memorial, Left to Right, and Top to Bottom. We spilled out into the street we were so many. The President to the I.A.F.F. M/G, Mr. Harold A. Schaitberger, (he happens to be the President of the I.A.F.F. as well) gave a rousing speech that not only paid homage and honor to our fallen Brothers and Sisters, but delivered the message that we.., “are each other’s keepers”. “We firefighters need to watch out, and look out, for each other when no one else will. With the political scene and the country’s shaky economic state, the “Brotherhood” is going to have to be stronger than ever”. It truly was a rousing and inspirational speech. After the memorial service, we made our way back to Newburg and started to get things ready for the long trip home starting the next day. I got together with one of our 11th District brothers, who is from, and lives in, Brownsville, TX and who drove one of our support vehicles. I made arrangements with him, Dean Gutierrez (A.F.F.), to ride back home with him. Not only was he kind enough to let me ride along with him, but he also stopped in Texarkana, TX, picked up my motorcycle and trailered it back to San Antonio and the Harley dealership off the highway that leads right back to his home in Brownsville. Have you figured out what this article is really all about? I had a terrible misfortune on our way to New York. Out of that misfortune, blossomed good fortune. Not only once, but multiple times to bless me with what turned out to be the best adventure of my life. The bottom line.., I got to experience firsthand, what the “Brotherhood” is all about. I had never been on the receiving end of what the “Brotherhood” means and is capable of. The “Brotherhood” came to my rescue and turned my misfortune into good fortune. To think that I started thinking my trip had been ruined after my motorcycle accident. The “Brotherhood” came in, swooped me up in their arms and told me everything was going to be alright. Alright!?.., that’s an understatement. Everything was fantastic!! I’d like to send out a special thanks and God bless you to Brothers Ernest “Buddy” Mass (R.F.F.) and Jerry “Partner, Partner” Cantu (R.F.F.) for making it possible for me being in New York in the first place. I want to send a thank you and God bless you to Brother/Mr. Michael Crouse, National Coordinator of the I.A.F.F. M/G, for making it possible for me to not only be able to participate in the 911 Memorial Service Ride in grand fashion, but have a motorcycle for a weekend of activities that will remain in my memories for a lifetime. And last but not least, I want to shout out a special thanks and God bless you to Brother Dean Gutierrez (A.F.F.) from Brownsville, TX for bringing me and my motorcycle home. It’s the “Brotherhood”! God Bless the “Brotherhood”!!! We are all truly blessed, and lucky, for having a “Brotherhood” that’s so alive and well in the I.A.F.F. M/G, and even more blessed to have a “Brotherhood” so close to home in our 11th D.I.A.F.F. M/G. And if you have been paying attention, you’ll see that the majority of the Brothers that came to my rescue were right from our very own San Antonio Fire Fighters Motorcycle Club (S.A.F.F. M/C). My motorcycle!? My insurance claims agent informed me that my motorcycle went down for the count. It didn’t survive its third time around (its third accident). Yeah, I said third! Strike three and it was out, 10-7, out of service.., dead. As for me.., I wasn’t hurt bad enough not to make the trip to New York and back. I am convinced now that the Good Lord has spared me once again for a part of my destiny that I haven’t fulfilled yet. What that destiny is I haven’t a clue. So with that being said, (Said!?). I’m going to be taking a sabbatical, in order to figure things out. The signs and messages are certainly there, I just have to step back and make sure I interpret those messages correctly.., or at least minimize the possibilities of making a bad choice. I’ll still be involved with the club as much as someone can, in a motorcycle club with no motorcycle, so you may not be hearing from me with the regularity that you have become accustomed. The plan right now is to eventually replace the dead motorcycle, but that notion may change way before the fact. I’m just saying that I need to take some time to myself, and carefully choose the next path I’ll be taking. Who knows!?.., He may want me to stay on my motorcycle for a reason I’m not aware of yet.., He may not.., who knows!? I do have 9 years of great memories, of some great rides with some of the greatest people I have ever had the pleasure, and blessed of knowing and travel with. It wouldn’t be so bad.., would it? Who knows!? So until next time, be safe on the road, and have a good trip home.., from wherever you are.
