Harley Raymond Brown

Harley Brown was born in 1936 to a very poor family in Northern California. Truth be known, he was the definition of a true mountain man. Even as a young boy, Harley would disappear into the wilderness for 6 to 8 weeks at a time…typically because he knew good and well he was in trouble for something. Eventually his father would go out and track him down with dogs and drag him back home. Harley could hunt, fish, build shelters and not just survive, but thrive all on his own. There was nothing he was afraid of! When he was 19, he joined the Marines. Only the toughest of the tough join the Core so it just made since to Harley. Unfortunately for the Marines, specifically his DI, the Marines just weren’t as tough as Harley!! After he beat the crap out of his DI 3 times, he was discharged for being uncontrollable and untrainable. He departed the Core with an Honorable Discharge, a handshake from his DI and an untouchable spirit. So what was next for Harley? Well the only thing that was better than being a Marine of course! He became a biker and bought an Indian with a suicide clutch! Harley was a Hells Angel in California, and heloved the life. He loved to be free, ride, have a good time. While he always managed to get into trouble,he was a great man that always defended those who could not defend themselves. He loved children and strongly believed that every fuzzy creature should be snuggled and if small enough, stuffed into his jacket for him to protect. When Harley met my Momma, he loved her instantly! She was the only person that was meaner in a fight than him! They married and had 3 kids. He kind of slowed down, for him anyway! He worked on atrucking dock for 30 years in Chicago. The -20° winter nights never bothered him. He was a big Daddy grizzly bear. The work was easy enough for Harley, but to sweeten the pot, as he would say, he started fighting in “the parking lot events”. They were MMA fights before MMA was a thing. Bare knuckles, no ref and no corner time for breaks. They fought until there was only 1 man standing. He made sure it was always after his shift and when he had the next night off because he never missed a night’s work. Heal ways made sure to buy his opponents a beer after a fight too. We rarely saw Harley come home bruised, but he always came home with a fist full of money from the fight and of to the Western Sizzler we went! His daughter Ari is the last alive now, but Harley always did his best. He taught us to fish and fight. He taught us that you must take risks and never bow to anyone but our Lord. He taught us to speak our mind and to never regret anything because even if you fail, it makes for one hell of a story later in life. Harley had the fullest life anyone could ever ask for. We’re so sad he’s gone…for now, but we know we’ll see him again and when we do; he won’t be broken or in pain anymore. He’ll be waiting for us on his Indian with the suicide clutch (because the only place for a bike like that is heaven