It’s Knowing That Your Door is Always Open and Your Path is Free to Walk…

Tonight it looks like the mainstream media is abuzz with the Waco bikers. Perhaps I can soon go back into retirement. Tonight, as I watch the triumph and the raucous excitement of Justice perhaps finally awakening, I feel tired and old.

In this battle, as in all, you love and you lose. I guess I have lost the friendship of the Rebel. Everyone thinks I was mean to him.. Maybe I was. I apologize for that. But I have invested so much into this.. To see him say no one was out of jail when they were, made people question all my articles. Every time he contradicted me, I got a barrage of messages about how wrong I was. I couldn’t take anymore when I broke the story before Stubbs, and sent it to him, and he didn’t even mention that.. Not for attention or credit, but because… Having two people release almost identical stories lends credibility… that hurts their cause by being buried, just because I am a girl, and I feel thats wrong. I know Stubbs is a much better spokesperson than me and he deserves all the media attention because of all the important stuff he does. I think that guy is awesome. But it would have been nice if the media had known there was another story out there too.

I have had my motives questioned a lot about why I am so adamant about this cause. It’s pretty ironic, the reason I am questioned, and cut out of the mainstream news, is I am a girl… When, in fact the reason I have done all this? It’s not because I am a biker.. It’s because I am a girl. What woman on earth would go through what I have for the last three weeks if she didn’t have her heart invested? See, there is a backstory to my passion for this cause too.

My husband, he’s a motorcyclist. He’s not a hardcore biker. He owns and accepts this fully, and accepts the fact that I am the other end of the spectrum as well. I belong to Bob body, heart and mind. However. There are parts of me that belong to someone else. Because you see? A biker HAS TO have this certain SOMETHING.. And we never actually quite reach it, we just keep riding mile after mile searching for it… That one last greatest freedom… The deepest curve, the sweetest wind, the greatest highway. Bob doesn’t have this wanderlust. But, my Bandit does. He’s searching for the same thing too.

Because you see? There’s one thing the media has right. We aren’t quite human… But it’s not because we are less than others.. It’s because we are more. We fight longer, fuck better, cry harder, and ride longer. We are larger than life. We demand a level of perfection that many human minds can’t ever comprehend. Bikers aren’t coyotes nipping at the heels of vagrancy.. They are lions among men.

My Bandit and I? We aren’t of a sexual nature… We share something more like blood. I understand his drive, his devotion, his mysterious outlaw world… At least to the point a woman can. Our relationship was forged long before he joined the red and gold nation… And it’s one forged in steel, in miles, in tears, in laughter, in memories, and cast by the flames of devotion to a kindred spirit. We can talk a thousand hours straight about books or bikes or just anything at all. He’s my big brother. He’s my protector. He’s one of my very best friends. He is a knight in shining armor. I have curled beneath his mighty arm to try to lend him my body heat as he shivers through a cup of tea after a long cold ride in the middle of the night. I have held his table at the strip club while he tended to business.. I have felt the cold weight of his .45 shoved down the waist of my jeans during a drunken brawl at a cheap hotel… And he has dealt with the fall out of a gold bedspread stained with the red of my blood. There is not a mile I make that I do not know in my heart he would come to save me if I called for him. And now? When I see these wives and moms and sisters and friends mourning the death or incarceration of THEIR Bandidos, my heart clenches in fear that someone I love will be the next person in their sites. He wasn’t in Waco but he might as well have been because every damned Bandido alive felt the bullet that entered Candyman. I miss him. Of course he is busy and also unable to text and talk right now.. We are intentionally NOT communicating because of who he is and who I am. My information doesn’t come from him and I don’t want people to think that. So, I am fighting so hard because, I miss my Bandit too.

This man is why I lay my ass on the line. This man is why I know the cops are wrong. Because he is a Mason. He is a Christian. He is a beautiful husband to his ol lady and friend to me and to everyone else he knows. I am willing to go to jail, or even take a bullet for him, for being a known associate, because I know all these years he was willing to do what it took to keep me safe. I owe him. It’s my turn to try to make sure he doesn’t come to harm. This is my dog in this fight. If it costs me a friendship here or there, so be it. The people who are mad at me right now never cared for me remotely as much as my Bandit does. I have a reason for everything I do. And that reason for what I am doing lately is… You cut him, I bleed.

.. Because, ya know, that song…

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13 Responses to “It’s Knowing That Your Door is Always Open and Your Path is Free to Walk…”

  1. cowgirl Says:

    Love ya Amy

  2. Michael Says:

    Well put Amy.

  3. Thanks for taking the time to share that.Everyone needs to be awakened by the reality of the fact that this could have happened to anyone.Being in the United States, it’s a conversation that non of us should be having.Have a blessed day.

  4. i love you soul sister…….

  5. […] Biker – Author – Amy Irene White – When I see these wives and moms and sisters and friends mourning the death or incarceration of THEIR Bandidos, my heart clenches in fear that someone I love will be the next person in their sites. […]

  6. Amy, I wish you rest, peace, and comfort. Your tireless devotion is so admirable. I too feel your plight. It’s a difficult job being a watcher, a whistle blower when the wind isn’t blowing your direction. Stay vigilant and fight the good fight as you are. You are as brave a warrior as any man.

    • Well that may be the nicest insult I ever got? I’m not certain. I don’t believe I am a whistle blower, as pretty much everything that I post is public knowledge.. I just dig it all up and present it the way I see it.

      • Speaking out and asking the tough questions… Certainly wasn’t an insult. Sorry you took it that way. Kudos to all whistleblowers. It’s hard to do, and calling a stone a stone is just that. Speak truth, you do. No insult, thought your hide was thicker than that.

      • Oh i am not upset. I was just confused.

  7. […] Biker – Author – Amy Irene White – When I see these wives and moms and sisters and friends mourning the death or incarceration of THEIR Bandidos, my heart clenches in fear that someone I love will be the next person in their sites. […]

  8. Greetings! Very useful advice in this particular post! It’s the little
    changes that produce the greatest changes. Thanks a lot for sharing!

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