Gone But Not Forgotten
Billy “Drummer Boy” Abshire
At the young age of 21 I got my CDL and started driving
trucks. I got really used to the road and the feeling of being
free. After driving a couple of years I started running teams
with a fellow driver I trusted. Well that’s when I real ly
started getting to know my first real best friend Billy.
We covered many miles together over the years
both in the same truck and in our own trucks following
each other to the same delivery. His truck hated me and my
truck equally hated him. He could make his truck climb
like it was empty, but the second I got in the driver’s seat,
I couldn’t make it maintain speed up hill for squat! He’d
tell me “it’s a Cat, you gotta flutter the petal and back out
of it as she climbs.” I’d have to drop two or three gears as
he’d sit there and laugh. “Watch the manifold pressure, it’ll
tell ya what she wants.” He had a black 10 speed Pete with
a 475 Cat and I had a Mocha Pearl 18 speed Pete, with a
550 Cat. He’d get in the driver’s seat of mine and have to
down shift three or four times cussing “How da hell you
only drop one gear up dat hill when I had to drop tree?” We
spent many a mile together and REALLY got to know each
other. We’d come home and our families would hang out
together. Gathered in his kitchen for hours, day after day,
talking about all kinds of stuff. Our wife’s and kids telling us
all about what we missed while we were out, and us telling
them all about what we saw, did, or even some of what we
talked about on the last trip out. Great times!
On my way back home from a haul one day out
of the blue, I got a call from a company I worked for right
there by the house and they made me an offer I couldn’t
turn down working local and not driving. So I gave up
the truck, went to work there along with my wife and we
proceeded to make a life for ourselves. A few months later,
Billy decided he wanted that life too and we happened to
need a driver so we hired him on. It wasn’t the big rig he
was used to, only a pickup truck or a super duty, but he
adjusted and made a life out of it right along with us. We
still hung out together a lot, rode motorcycles together as
much as we could, BBQ’s and crawfish boils at each other’s
house, Gumbo, family gatherings, you name it, we did it.
We met a lot of good people out on rides, poker runs and
biker events, some still in my life today. And we still had
long talks in his kitchen with the families.
Well in late August of 2013, Billy’s back was really
hurting him and I took him to the hospital where we found
out he had stage 4 lung cancer. He was down the whole
month of September and recovering at home most of
October from surgery to remove a large amount of cancer
and put a cage in his back to hold the remaining bone
together that the cancer didn’t eat. We got through Chemo
together and every time he was ready to try that first ride
and just a whipping in and out like a humming bird earning
him the nickname “Worleybird”. It was a hard day for us all.
Billy was my Father-in-Law.
The next morning, I woke up to learn from Stacey
“Snoopy” that Hoop and Worleybird where in an accident
on their way home. Hoop was badly banged up and
Worleybird was killed. Now Billy and Worleybird are two
of the many “Biker angels” that watch over us as we ride.
Hoop has since recovered but still unable to ride due to
the damage done to his back in the wreck. I think of them
every time I ride. I know them and many others watch over
us with every mile we ride. Gone from earth, but NEVER
forgotten. In memory of the life with Billy “Drummer Boy”
Abshire May 1st, 1952 to March 16th, 2014
~BACA TuTu
BACA® Capitol Region Chapter
again a few days after treatment, I was right there with him.
Well in late November of 2013 I got the honor of making
Billy’s last ride. I called in “sick” for work to make it, but
damn glad I did. We didn’t know it was his last ride until he
never got well enough to ride again. Then in March of 2014,
cancer won the battle and he was gone.
We gave Billy the best funeral we possibly could
and it seemed Billy was having no part of a police escort
from the funeral home to the church and then the grave site.
We delayed the funeral a good 20 minutes waiting on the
police, but finally gave in and Flat lead us in his Peterbilt.
My youngest son was in Flat’s Pete along with Billy’s oldest
son, I was directly behind him on my bike with my oldest
son on the back and our friend, Randy Hooper also known
as “Hoop” next to me. Behind us was Billy’s Brother-in-law
on Billy’s Black Honda Shadow and our little buddy Ginger
next to him. Then Billy in the big black Hurst and all the
other bikes then family and friends. Among the other bikes
was a fella we had just met that day by the name of Jerry
Worley. Jerry was voluntarily blocking traffic for the funeral
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Monica Kujawa
He took you too soon but he needed a lead rider, ride
with the angels sister
GBNF
Jack Kujawa
Amgela Lingefelt’s father in law Jack Kujawa from
Cicero,ill. You are always in our hearts ride free dad
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