I grew up in a motorhead family.

I haven't touched on this thread in a while. My head is raging right now, and I need something to concentrate on, so here goes.

I grew up in Dick Trickle's home town (well, his village was a few miles west, but his shop was in my town, where he raced).
If you don't know who he was, google it.
When I was 8 or 9, his shop was all the way across town. My neighborhood crew and I would often ride our Schwinn Stingrays all the way across town.. crossing the bridge, 4 lane traffic be damned. We'd camp outside his shop, getting glimpses of his purple Mustangs getting worked on, and if we were lucky, firing up and backing out of the shop.
One day, there was a gaggle of us hanging out on the sidewalk.. a couple got brave, laid down their bikes, and creaped up to the shop door.
Dick came out.. "Get the **** away from the door! Stay on the sidewalk!"
We all scrambled... slowly worked our way back.
He came out about 10 minutes later.. "sorry I yelled at you guys".. and threw us a bag of licorice.
Dick, the man who has won the most short track races in the US, later took his own life. From what I've read and heard, he was tired of the pain, and didn't want to be a burden to anyone. I don't condone it.. but he ended his life the best he could..went to the cemetery, called 911 and told him where he was and not to bother sending an ambulance, and did it.