Photography and text by Corey Amaro (Photo: Part of The Honda Ninety Club)
Early yesterday morning a dear family friend died. Justin was forty years old.
His father Nolan was one of my father's favorite motorcycling friends. Justin grew up with my brothers, they were best buddies.
(Photo: Top, my brother Zane, Justin and my brother Mark.)
Justin was older than my brother Zane and younger than my brothers Marty, Mathew and Mark.
One of my earliest memories of Justin, is of his mother, Mary, standing at our front door. Mary brought over a sack of clothes, she said to my mom, "Justin grew out of these and I thought your youngest son Zane might be able to use them."
My mother was happy, Zane was happy, and I was sixteen wondering why she didn't have an older daughter. Zane had hand me downs from Justin until he was in the eighth grade. After that Justin rocketed in height and his clothes were way too big to pass down.
Justin also like to beat up Zane just for fun. You see when you grow up as the only girl with four brothers, you see a great deal of guys beating each other up just for fun.
Justin was like one of my brothers.
(Photos above, of Justin preparing to ride on the Ninety Ride. Photo below hangs in my family's barn turned into a motorcycle shop. On the right is a photo of Justin with his bike, next to it is a photo of the first Honda Ninety Trip.)
Justin, like his father, loved to ride motorcycles. When Justin's father died at an early age, my dad and brothers took Justin as a brother in their Honda Ninety Motorcycle Club. Which is a riding club strictly for family. Years later, and I mean years later, Justin was the only non family person ever to be part of their club.
That is just to say he was loved. I never even got to ride in The Honda Ninety Club! (Don't get me wrong I was loved, but no exception was made for me… I was a girl. I was never jealous of Justin… instead I knew he was very special to my family.)
(Photo: My Father)
Certainly, Justin is with his father, and my father. I can imagine their intensely crazy conversations full of catch up stories…. so much so, that God himself must be wondering if he too should have raced a motorcycle.
The other night a pickup pulled out of an intersection without seeing Justin on his motorcycle. The driver (injured) was someone Justin and our families knew.
Sometime life does not give answers, instead it makes us search for meaning. Sometimes our prayers do not feel as they are being heard. Sometimes "why" haunts the hurting soul.
I don't have answers, but I do have a pocketful of faith, love and compassion… I offer these in prayer for Justin's mother, his sister Julie, his girlfriend, his ex-wife (my cousin) Melissa, my brothers, especially for his seven year old son Jay and all his family and friends.
My prayers are offered too for Mr. Lambert (the driver of the pickup) and his family.
Justin….Ride on Gentle Soul.
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