Patriot Guard Riders(Grab your Harleys Freepers!)

Several people have asked how the Patriot Guard Riders got started. Here’s what we’ve been able to piece together. If anyone can give us more details, it would be greatly appreciated.

It all started back in early August of 2005 with the American Legion Riders chapter 136 from Kansas. They were appalled to hear that a fallen hero’s memory was being tarnished by misguided religious zealots who were protesting at funerals. They decided to do something about it. At the ALR 136 August meeting, Director : Chuck " Pappy " Barshney appointed members, Terry “Darkhorse” Houck, Cregg “Bronco 6” Hansen, Steve “McDaddy” McDonald, and Bill ”Wild Bill” Logan to form a committee to strategize and form a battle plan to combat Fred Phelps and the Westboro Baptist Church.

When they heard that the WBC was going to protest at the Funeral of Sgt. John Doles in Chelsea, Oklahoma, they established a Mission Statement, which included getting the families permission and contacting Law Enforcement and other Motorcycle Groups in Oklahoma. They agreed that their ultimate goal was to get veterans and motorcycle organizations involved in every state so that each state could handle the situation internally and not rely on other states to do the job. They were very successful in mustering riders to honor Sgt. Doles and limiting the intrusion by the WBC.

After the Chelsea Mission the Kansas American Legion Riders wanted all Motorcycle Groups/ Organizations to be recongnized . On the 18th of Oct. 2005 the Patriot Guard name was established and was announced on the 27th of Oct. ,2005 to the 100 + motorcyclists present at the Tonganoxie Mission to Honor Spc Lucas Frantz .

Following the missions in South Haven, KS and a later ride in Edmond, OK, Jeff “Twister” Brown, from Broken Arrow, OK, decided to do more than just ride. He saw a need to get a strong nation-wide communications and recruiting program in place. He contacted the original AL riders in Kansas and told them of his plans. They openly shared their experiences, suggestions, and encouragement. Within a matter of days, Brown had formed the Patriot Guard Riders and began a nation-wide campaign to garner support.

Similarly, after a mission ride in Greeley, CO, Hugh Knaus and Jason “Waldo” Wallin answered the call of the newly formed Patriot Guard Riders, becoming the national webmaster and communications director, respectively. Within a matter of days, a mission statement was refined and a website was built, rebuilt, and launched. A call immediately went out to individual riders and groups across the nation to join and ride with the PGR. State Captains were recruited to work more closely with the members in their area.

The growth has been phenomenal. Within a week their membership included many riders from associations like the VFW, American Legion, Rolling Thunder, ABATE, Combat Vets Motorcycle Association, Intruder Alert, Leathernecks Motorcycle Club, and almost five hundred individual riders. To the credit of Hugh and “Waldo”, the PGR website had received almost 566,000 hits in the first two weeks! Patriots from all over America and several foreign countries responded. Emails were pouring in from people wanting to support and join the newly formed PGR.

So, that’s a pretty concise picture of where we came from and where we are today. A great deal of credit goes to that small group of Kansas American Legion Riders, but none of this could have ever been accomplished without the patriot member who takes time out of their life to honor a fallen soldier and their family.

Their latest report from Kansas will leave your screen pretty blurry. "Normal">
Patriot Guard Ride – Sgt. Evan Parker, South Haven, Kansas - November 02, 2005
I knew it was going to be a long day. I pulled out of my drive at 8:00 and headed north to Caney, Kansas. In Caney, I was hooking up with Craig Winkler, a Rolling Thunder rider from Coffeyville, Kansas. From there, we planned to ride together to South Haven, Kansas to join a group called the Patriot Guard Riders. At the request of the Parker family, our goal was two-fold. We would ride to the South Haven high school; site of the funeral service for Sgt. Evan Parker, to pay our respects to a fallen soldier killed in Iraq and to prevent a small group of demonstrators from Fred Phelps’ Westboro Baptist Church from disrupting the service and adding further pain to Sgt. Parker’s family and friends. The early morning ride was cold and windy, but it would warm up nicely later in the day. As we pulled into the staging area, a truck stop a little outside of South Haven, there were only a couple of dozen bikes already there. By the time we hit the head, gassed up the bikes, and mingled a little, they started rumbling in. They came from all over the area, representing VFW and American Legion groups as well as many non-affiliated riders. By the time it was time to roll out, I’d guess there was between 150 and 200 bikes. With flags flying, we pulled into sleepy little South Haven, population 428, as law enforcement officers provided escort.
We pulled in and parked, forming a line, sometimes three to four bikes deep, along the front fence of the high school. Across the gravel street directly behind us, the group of WBC protesters were already established, holding their signs, chanting their tripe, and taunting us as we dismounted. They were small in number, only 7 or 8, ranging in age from what appeared to be about 10 to one elderly lady who looked to be in her 80’s. It was immediately obvious that they were very experienced in what they were doing. They were hoping to enrage us to the point that we would physically attack or threaten them. They want grounds for a lawsuit as well as thriving on the publicity.
That was not going to happen. For one thing, we knew their tactics, and for another, it seemed like half the law enforcement officers in the state of Kansas were there to protect their civil rights. Now, having said that, the presence of so many officers may have also had something to do with the fact that Sgt. Parker’s father was a law enforcement officer, and Sgt. Parker had hoped to follow in his father footsteps. I think it’s called respect. It was also very gratifying that, to the man and woman, every officer made it a point to walk the line of bikers, shaking our hands and thanking us for showing up.
Before anyone arrived for the funeral service, we formed a blockade, three to four bikers deep, completely obscuring the protesters from view of the high school and the mourners. We held American flags high to block their signs and whenever they would begin their chanting, we would drown them out with our own chants of “USA” and the revving of our engines. They didn’t stand a chance. After a couple of hours, they loaded into their van and were escorted out of town.
The family had asked that those of us, who could, attend the graveside service and join them for food at the Methodist church afterward. It seemed main street was the only paved road, so while the service was going on, Craig and I headed to main street to get away from the dust. We parked at the side of the road, found a shady piece of grass, and lay back and relaxed. I was amazed at how many people drove by, pulled over, and thanked us for coming. One older gentleman, a vet wearing a WWII ball cap, even got out of his car and tried to give me five dollars for dinner. I’m still not sure if that was an act of gratitude or the fact that I was covered in dust and bug guts and looked like I could use a good meal and couldn’t afford one.
When the funeral service let out, we stood beside our bikes at attention as the hearse and family cars drove past. We mounted up and pulled away from the curb, joining the group of riders heading to the cemetery. The protesters did not show up at the interment and the service was as moving as was to be expected.
After the service, riders began splitting off, heading for their respective homes. Craig and I said goodbye as he was going to try to get home before dark and I had already lost that option. Since I had had nothing to eat but a breakfast bar all day, I decided to run by the church before the family arrived and grab something before I headed back. I had just finished a wonderful bowl of homemade chicken and noodle soup and was walking toward the door when Sgt. Parker’s mother walked in, clutching the triangle flag to her breast. I stopped and dropped my head. Without hesitation, she came straight to me, wrapped her arms around my neck, and with tears streaming down her cheeks, said “Thank you, thank you for being here”. That’s all I could stand. With tears welling up, I stammered my condolences and walked from the building. I had almost three hours of riding ahead of me and it was now starting to get dark. It was a hard to ride home, but was softened by the knowledge that we had made a difference. Rest in peace Sgt. Parker, job well done.
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Submitted by: Jeff Brown "Twister"

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