In
The News:In
The News:
Wishes Really Do Come True
Motorcycle Mama, 94, Gets a Ticket to Ride - in a Harley.
By DELL FORD, The Journal Gazette
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Photos by Dean Musser Jr./The Journal Gazette |
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Ruth Smith looks at old photographs of her, her husband and the motorcycle group, Blue Ash Eagles, that they rode with in Ohio. |
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| Ruth Smith, 94, rides with Todd Garvison (driving) and Bobbie Cox, administrator of Miller’s Merry Manor of Syracuse, on the southwest streets of Fort Wayne. |
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| Ruth Smith and her husband, Robert, stand next to a motorcycle. |
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SYRACUSE,
It was 1953, as Ruth Smith can best recall. She was 42 and it was the
year she took her last ride on a motorcycle. Fast forward to 2005. The hair is gray and thinning. More teeth are out than in. A wheelchair is the main mode of locomotion, and some days the memory is misty and frazzled on facts. |
But don’t count Ruth Smith out. Not for
a minute. A feisty 94 now and a resident at Miller’s Merry Manor in Syracuse,
the Ohio native recently lived a dream come true: a ride on a sinister blue
pearl, 1,340-cubic-inch 1998 Harley-Davidson Road King.
The wheels for the Harley ride were set in motion in early September when Ruth
remarked to Nancy Schrock, a housekeeper at the nursing home, that she’d
really like to ride a Harley one more time before she dies.
Schrock relayed the wish to Merry Manor administrator Bobbie Cox, who in turn
contacted a man she knew could help make the wish come true: Bob Haverstick,
founder and president of Never Too Late.
The Indianapolis-based granter of seniors’ wishes (akin to Make-a-Wish for
children) accepted the challenge, and in early October the deal was cemented.
Ruth, who will be 95 on Feb. 11, would ride a Harley with Todd Garvison through
arrangements made by Jim Bailey’s Fort Wayne Harley-Davidson.
There was one hitch in the carefully laid plans. Ruth (“She’s a little
spitfire who’ll tell you how it is,” Cox said.) was adamant about a
stipulation calling for her to ride in the Harley sidecar rather than sharing
the motorcycle seat with Garvison.
“No sidecar!” was her firm position whenever the subject was broached. She
said the word “sidecar” with contempt.
Ruth, after all, had been a member of the Blue Ash Eagles motorcycle club she
and her husband, Robert, rode with. The 20 male and three female riders were not
rowdies when they explored Ohio, Indiana and Michigan highways and byways. As
Ruth tells it, on occasion they even assisted the Cincinnati police.
With that carefree background in mind, the little spitfire was having nothing to
do with a sidecar. She would ride on the seat – behind Garvison, just as she
rode with Robert so many years ago.
And that’s how the matter stood leading up to – and on – ride day.
Motorcycle memories
A frosty nip stabbed the late October morning, but a bright sun blazed its
blessing on Ruth Smith’s wish day.
Like a good host, Todd Garvison was waiting at 11 a.m. for the special guest to
arrive at his home.
A motorcycle rider since age 13, Garvison bought his first Harley in 1982
“right out of North Side High School.” He travels to swap meets all over the
United States and displays a vast array of motorcycle memorabilia in a
36-by-45-square foot pole barn on his property.
A few minutes past 11, a white Miller’s Merry Manor van pulled into
Garvison’s driveway and soon as you could say, “Let’s go motorcycle
riding,” there was Ruth Smith gazing from her wheelchair at the little
gathering of welcomers and well-wishers.
“What is it you like about motorcycle riding?” someone wanted to know.
“Fresh air … gives you a good appetite … you just love it,” Ruth said
loud and clear.
“Ready for the ride today?” someone else asked.
No pause.
“So long as it’s not in a sidecar!” she snapped.
With that, Garvison grabbed the wheelchair handles and propelled Ruth toward the
pole barn where a surprise awaited.
Not content with merely providing the motorcycle to fulfill Ruth’s wish,
Garvison visited Ruth’s granddaughter, Ginger Abbs in Syracuse, and obtained
five snapshots of Ruth during her riding days in Ohio. He had the photos
enlarged and framed and waiting on a table in his mini motorcycle museum.
Pointing to a man on a Harley in one photo, Garvison asked Ruth, “Is that your
husband?”
Holding the framed picture close to her eyes, she studied the face then broke
out a broad grin. “Yeahhhhh,” she crooned.
“This,” she said, holding the picture of a group of riders, “is a
motorcycle meet. All Blue Ash Eagles.”
A third photo pictures Ruth and a woman friend sitting on a 1947 Flathead
Harley.
Garvison presented the pictures to Ruth to brighten her room at Miller’s Merry
Manor.
“Thank you very much,” she said with obvious gratitude.
Before beginning the dream ride, Ruth was given a black leather jacket,
compliments of Jim Bailey. Sadly, it was too snug. She did don a black helmet
(also from Bailey) and a pair of dark glasses – and wallah! – gone was the
little old lady from Merry Manor replaced by a hip-looking Motorcycle Mama.
One more hurdle, however.
Seat or sidecar?
“Why do I have to ride in the sidecar?” Ruth wanted to know.
Garvison and Cox suggested she’d be “warmer and safer.”
“I’m worried about going (bouncing) up in the sidecar,” Ruth insisted.
“I’d never do that to you, Ruth,” Garvison promised, adding, “My wife
(Margie) rides in the sidecar.”
“OK,” Ruth finally agreed with a sigh.
Getting some fresh air
At 11:30 she was lifted into the sidecar, her sky blue sweat suit covered by two
colorful afghans. Cox settled onto the seat behind Garvison to keep a watchful
eye on Ruth, and the three rode slowly out of the pole barn and down the drive
to Yellow River Road. Couples on two motorcycles and the Miller’s Merry Manor
van followed close behind.
At a speed hovering around the 25-mph mark, the little caravan made its way to
Hillegas Road, across West Jefferson Boulevard and onto Ardmore Avenue. A few
blocks after a left turn onto Taylor Street, Ruth and her entourage parked
outside Garvison’s Todd’s Olde Town Tavern. Inside, a beef-and-noodles with
mashed potatoes and green beans lunch prepared by Garvison’s mother, Lucille,
awaited everyone who took part in Ruth Smith’s dream-come-true motorcycle
ride.
Reseated in her wheelchair in Olde Town Tavern, Ruth responded to the question,
“Did you have fun?” with a blunt, “I froze to death, but it was fun,
yeah.”
Asked whether the ride brought back old times, she nodded and said, “It sure
did!”
At the end of the day, Ruth Smith was tired. The next morning would bring a
return to routine at Miler’s Merry Manor. But she’d have one bright moment
to cherish: one more time on a motorcycle. Proof that it’s never too late for
a wish to come true.
