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FEATURE:

Passion and Persistence: Pride and Professionalism 

            I have been riding “things” with two wheels and an engine since I was about 5 years old. My first was a mini-bike with no suspension and a 2.5 horsepower Briggs and Stratton engine that I couldn’t even start.  I had to sit atop the seat while my Dad balanced it and pulled the cord.  Away I would go tearing up the yard and the fields around the house. We all (brother, cousins, neighbors) rode that mini-bike for years and I personally got unfathomable amounts of joy from it.  Not quite sure what happened to it. My next “bike” was a late 60s early 70s model Yamaha 125cc street bike that my Dad and I turned into a trail bike by taking off the turn signals and fenders and putting on knobby tires both front and rear.

            If my dad didn’t have a motorcycle one of his friends always did.  I remember a 1977 Honda CB 750 Super-Sport that was built for nothing but speed.  A 1978 Honda Goldwing with all the accessories and yes, that oh so familiar 1965 Harley Davidson Duo-Glide Panhead.  Never got a chance to ride the ol’ Panhead, but I did ride the 750 and the Goldwing on numerous occasions…all without the knowledge of my Father of course. My uncle had a classic Moto Guzzi 850 that I remember as jaw-dropping black and chrome. It's no wonder I have a passion for motorcycles.

            My dad spent some time in the Air Force.  I think he was the subject of a judge’s ultimatum, go in the service or go to jail, but he won’t admit it.  My Uncle, with the Moto Guzzi, was Marine Recon in Normandy.  Another Uncle was Navy.  My brother-in-law was a Marine in Viet Nam. So at 18 yrs of age I entered the U.S. Army, which became my life, but nothing could ever push my passion for motorcycles totally out of my mind.  It did, however put it on-hold for a while.

            While stationed in Germany in the mid 80s, I sold an old Harley that I had and put an order in for a 1985 Harley Davidson XLS 1000 Roadster.  But several months before I was to take delivery, I met a girl.  That’s right, a girl, who I married.  I ultimately canceled the order for my Harley. Over the next 10 years, that woman cost me 2 additional Harleys that I had placed on order but never was able to take delivery of; a Softail Custom and a Softail Springer.

            Yes, I divorced her, I mean, how could I stay married to a woman who cost me 3 bikes.

            As I progressed through the ranks in the Army, I soon found myself too preoccupied with training Military Police men and women and deploying to the four corners of the earth and hell’s half acre.  Finding the motorcycle of my dreams was just going to have to wait. And my initial 3 year stint soon turned into a 20 year ride that I will never forget or regret.  Yes, I miss it!

Finding the motorcycle of my dreams was just going to have to wait.

            In 1998, with about 4 years to go to retirement, I met another girl, or should I say woman. We married in 1999 and in 2002 I retired from the Army after 20 years of serving the country that I love. About 18 months prior to my retirement my wife moved to Green Bay, Wisconsin to take a job after she got out of the Army (That’s right, she spent 12 years on active duty before hanging up the boots).  I stayed in Texas serving out the last few months of my obligation. I  also spent numerous hours scouring the Internet and the local dealerships dreaming of my new ride.

           The day that I retired I drove from Texas to Wisconsin, nonstop, at the request of my wife.  It had been several months since I had spent any time with her and my mind was racing about what was going to happen when we would be together.  After 21 hours of driving I arrived in Green Bay, totally exhausted.  After “catching up” my wife insisted that I put my truck in the garage and as I opened the garage door, there stood a 3-tiered Craftsman tool box that I had been wanting for years.  It had a bow and a card taped to the outside.  I opened the card and the message thanked me for my 20 years of dedicated service in the United States Army, to my Soldiers, and our great country.  I started to get emotional and felt a lump in the back of my throat.  The final line of the card read “Open Drawer 3”.I slid drawer 3 open to find another card and a ring box.  The card was yet another “thank you” for my service and the ring box contained a gold nugget ring with an Eagle on the top.  I assumed it was the American Eagle…yet another connection to my time in service.  The final line of this card read “Open Drawer 5”.  As I slid drawer 5 open I found a “Hot Bike” magazine and another card.  The last line of the card read “Open Drawer 7”.

I did, and there stood, not one but two Harley Davidson motorcycles.

            I opened drawer 7 and there lay another card with a Harley Davidson key chain and key and the last line of the card read “Slide Open the Storage Door”. I did, and there stood, not one but two Harley Davidson motorcycles.  A 2002 Wide Glide for me and my wife’s a 2002 Custom Sportster (My wife’s Sportster lasted only 8 months as she moved up to a Road King Classic…happy that she could keep up with the big bikes). The emotions that were welling inside me finally came out. All those years of sacrifice finally paid off. Needless to say I felt like I was on top of the world. 

            I forced myself to get 4 hours of sleep and then it was up, out and down the road…finally with my knees in the breeze and bugs in my teeth.  Ah, I was alive.

            When I retired after 20 years as a Military Policeman, I thought that I was through with the Military and through with Law Enforcement.  I was wrong.  Initially I took a job as a manager for a trucking company.  It took me one month to train for the job, five more to figure out that I hated it, and an additional 12 months to quit, sell the house, and move back to Texas.

            I took a job as a Police Officer for the Fort Hood Police Department, this time as a civilian. Same job, different uniform. Still, there was something lacking in my professional life. I did some research on the Austin Police Department (APD). Looking beyond the surface, it didn't take me long to realize that even though APD had experienced some difficult times throughout it's history, this was a department full of professional, dedicated police officers that I wanted to be a part of. So in 2006 I made a decision to join APD.

            While in the police academy to become an Austin Police Officer, we experienced financial hard times and were forced to sell both bikes.

            However, we have since rebounded and as of June 2008, we are the proud owners of a 2008 Softail Night Train and a 2008 Road King Classic.  And yes, the Road King is my wife’s bike, she calls it a Road Queen.

            A great family, a great job working for the citizens of the greatest city in America, surrounded by great fellow Police Officers are the reasons I get excited about my life . . . each and every day. They are the reason I continue to serve people. Top that off with being on a bike every chance that I can get and wow, what a great life.

            My wife Amy currently serves in the Army National Guard, on active duty. She will soon  be able to retire so I have to get busy planning a surprise retirement gift that will out-due hers hands down. I definitely have my work cut out for me. My stepson Cody, is also a veteran who served in Operation Iraqi Freedom. He too rides, a Suzuki GSXR 750, and while its not a Harley it is still two wheels in the wind.

            If you ever see me, or us, out on the road, throw me “the wave”.  If you see me in a bar, throw me a beer.  Let’s sit and talk a while.

            If you ever see me in my patrol car you can say hello then as well. We are not as bad as you might think. Talk with us and you will find that we are human too. I'm just your average guy, living an average life, blessed with a great family and friends.

SERVE AND PROTECT. . . . . WITH DIGNITY AND RESPECT!

Editors Note: This here editor has been riding for a long time having had my current 1971 Night Train since I came back from the Marine Corps in 73. And before that I had a 1953 Panhead. In all my years of riding, and having been stopped by local APD Officers with up against the wall or down on the pavement scenarios, Officer Clawson was by far the most professional, dedicated, well-trained, and respectful officer that I have ever met. Plus, he had a great story and TIMM is grateful to Officer Clawson for sharing that story with our readers.