I liked him as a neighbor and returned his civil pleasant attitude to me. I liked how he often goosed his Harley while still in the underground and set off the car alarms. We would smile at each other as he waited for the door to slide shut. Standing about 10 meters apart on my porch, I was able to catch the devil in his eye and cast back a smiling acknowledgment from a fellow rebel. Although he mentioned that he was an HA, I still pointed him to "I trusted the RCMP." I always do, because I trust people on an individual basis not because of the uniforms, or insignia they wear.
Al had a sense of humor and was a man I felt that I could instinctively trust. I knew things weren't good, because he wasn't riding for the last couple of months. The last time I saw him about three months ago his throat was all swelled up and he told me for the first time that he had cancer. Now he is gone. The second person to die young of cancer in my immediate circle this year. Al was only 50. I will miss him and his noisy Harley.
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