40 Bikers United to Hold the Hand of a Dying Child in Hospice, Ensuring She Was Never Alone During Her Final Days
Katie was a seven-year-old girl whose life was tragically cut short by cancer. Her final words before the illness stole her voice were whispered softly to a man she barely knew: “I wish I had a daddy like you.” These words were spoken to Big John, a 300-pound Harley rider with teardrop tattoos and hands as big as baseball mitts, who had accidentally found himself in Room 117 of Saint Mary’s Hospice while searching for a bathroom. That moment, that wrong turn, changed everything—not just for Katie, but for the group of rough, tattooed bikers who would come to care for her in the months that followed. On the day Big John stumbled upon her, he was visiting his own dying brother, wandering the halls filled with quiet suffering. He was drawn by the sound of a deep, heart-wrenching cry—not one of fear, but of surrender. When he entered Room 117, he saw Katie lying small and fragile in a hospital bed that seemed far too big for her. Her bald head and pale skin told the story of her fight, but her eyes held something deeper. When she asked if he was lost, they exchanged…