I Watched Bikers Rebuild My Elderly Neighbor’s Porch After His Family Abandoned Him For Being Poor

Harold called his three children. All successful. All living within fifty miles. All too busy to help their father.

His son Michael is a banker. Drives a Tesla. Lives in a $800,000 house. His response: “Dad, you should just go into a nursing home. This house is falling apart anyway.”

His daughter Jennifer is a real estate agent. She actually said, and I heard this through the window: “Dad, it doesn’t make financial sense to fix the porch. The house is worth more as a teardown. Just hold on a few more years and we’ll handle it after you’re gone.”

After he’s gone. She actually said that to her father’s face.

His youngest, David, is a software engineer. He sent a text: “Can’t help. Too busy with work. Maybe hire someone?”

Harold’s pension is $1,100 a month. The porch repair estimates were all over $15,000. He had $837 in his savings account.

I found Harold crying on his porch that evening, holding his wife Martha’s picture. “She’d be so ashamed,” he kept saying. “She’d be so ashamed of what our children became.”

I tried to comfort him but what could I say? His children had abandoned him. Decided his life was worth less than their inheritance. Decided letting him rot in an unsafe house was better than spending their money.

That’s when I remembered the bikers.

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