The Mighty Viking

Conquering those things we must, one story at a time

Rolling Thunder

From 3000 miles out the sound of one bike rolling through a mountain pass echoed the thunder in the valley below. Where thunder rolls, something important has happened. The sting of rain pelted the rider’s face, reminding him he was still alive. As long as he was alive, there were fallen to be honored.

From a thousand miles out, groups of riders began to appear. The one bike became scattered groups, riding east with intent, to make known their dedication to honor the Fallen, echoing the thunderstorms from the south, and from the west.

From ten miles out, that one lone rider passed bike after bike, groups of bikes making their presence known, to each other and anyone within hearing, gathering tighter, echoing the remaining thunder. The storm had spent itself escorting them in. Now the sound of the gathering million bikes tried its own voice in growing numbers, swarming, gathering, still rolling.

And finally, at the appointed place and time, the million bikes came together in one mind, one storm, rolling like all the thunder in the country through the Capitol to remind all who heard that honor was still alive.

And while honor still lives, it will create more honor. The country it serves will remember its best, forgive its worst, and create better.


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4 Responses to “Rolling Thunder”

  1. Bodie P says:

    Lovely…just lovely.

  2. Brig says:

    Remembering always.

  3. Lee says:

    After reading that my face feels windburned and my ears are ringing from the noise. I like it!

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