2 Seconds… T-Minus 3,437,424,000 Seconds

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T-Minus 3,437,424,000 Seconds

 

Harley-Davidson Motorcycles was born of little more than a handshake, and a gentleman’s honor between two best friends, than business partners. To this end, they achieved both respect and honors of those that worked for them over the intervening years of two world wars and into the future.

In the war with Pancho Villa, the military purchased some of the boys’ (Now grown to men.) Machines. A colonel who rode with his troops was greatly impressed by possible uses of the motor-powered bikes to get messages from one site to another in a promptly.

World War I — the Great War, came to the fore. The military with its long memory ordered thousands, eventually numbering more than fifteen-thousand of William and Arthur’s motorcycles with the new V-twin arranged engines.

Life improved as the employees respected the owners and the employees worked the best that they could to build products that they would want to own themselves.

World War II, the war that followed the War-To-End-All-Wars and the government called upon Harley-Davidson once again to produce the legend they had before.

William and Arthur were more than capable and happy to oblige. They increased the power of the V-twin time and again, the iron horse was no longer on rails, but rubber tires and now could be ridden.

Sadly, William did not live to see the end of the war. A conflict that both saddened him and made his company famous.

After a long hard year of making contracts and sure that they filled all their obligations. William went to play golf and relax after a stressful day in the weeks following the attack on Pearl Harbor. William Harley never came home, dying of a cardiac arrest that evening.

William Harley was 1,996,444,800 seconds old and the time was T- Minus 2,175,984,000 seconds.

The company’s reputation spread as the power of the engines grew and the nickname of “Hog” that had begun as a racing team now became common reference to the large motorcycles.

Returning soldiers found that the freedom of the road was ever more pleasant with the powerful and dependable motorcycle from the once best of friends that dreamed of machines were best of of friends as business partners. Harley-Davidson Motorcycles were the most desired of all the big machines by a generation that had lived with horrors of death,  horror and destruction unmatched in history.

T-Minus 1,923,696,000 seconds

Mourning his friend for years after Bill had passed away from a heart attack, Arthur had stayed the course of his motorcycle company on the same track as he, William and the rest of the Davidson crew chose, together. Bill lived to honor his best friend, increasing the depth and breadth of the company that they had started so long ago.

Five days after Christmas 1950, Arthur and his wife, Clara, left the house in the car. Ice covering the roads had melted, in the shadows of trees it was still below freezing, the entire countryside was in the dead of winter. While Arthur was a careful driver, not so the driver of the pickup truck that slid around the corner on the icy pavement and hit them, driver side headlight to driver side headlight at less than twenty-five miles-per-hour. Arthur’s car careened off the road and came to rest against a tree. Hard interior surfaces with sharp objects did more damage to the human occupants than the impact of the accident and the untimely death of Arthur Davidson was felt throughout the motorcycle community.

Arthur was 2,201,904,000 seconds old.

In 2008, Harley-Davidson produced motorcycle number 1HD1DJV131Y 584344, the skills of the company were not wasted on the powerful machine. It was perfect only when the thirty-year old inspector, David Oliver “Papa DOK” Kraig deemed it so. On the computerized display, the power curves that the engine put out were not just within limits, but perfect.

After a brake-check and this newest of additions to the H-D family received the pronouncement “Perfect” by Chris “Eliminator” Thanatos. Six-foot four-inch frame that was always in a dark mood, he was without mercy as he place a red-tag of rejection on anything that was even marginally inside of the test limits. A strict personal need and a meticulous eye for flaws made for many employees on the assembly line to flinch. When it came to this OCD employee doing inspections – It was perfect or it never saw the light of day.

Passing with flying colors, one of the names that the employees labeled this new chrome and painted horse was “P.H.” or “Perfect Hog”.

Shipped with care out west. It sat on the sales lot until a young man who William would have been proud of sat astride it and smiled. Russell Fletcher’s dark eyes looked over the chrome that William and Arthur’s old company had given birth to.

Before the hour was up, Russell was on the road with his prized new possession.

A life of glory on the most glorious machine of the year, Russell laughed every night he rode.

And Russell rode a lot.

T-Minus 3,696,000 seconds

 

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