School Called Police On Biker Whom My Daughter Was Feeding Her Lunch Every Day

Thomas laughed bitterly. “Ma’am, look at me. I’m a sixty-eight-year-old biker with tattoos and a leather vest. Last time I tried to volunteer at a school, they called security before I finished my sentence. People see me and they see a criminal. A predator. A threat.”

He gestured at the crowd watching. “Half these parents have been filming me for weeks. Posting on social media about the ‘suspicious man’ outside the school. I’ve seen the posts. ‘Keep your kids away from this creep.’ ‘Someone needs to call the cops on this guy.’”School supplies

I looked at the crowd. Several people were indeed holding up phones. Some had the decency to lower them.

“I lost my wife six years ago,” Thomas continued. “Cancer. Lost my daughter two years later. Car accident. Then Emma. My Emma. The last piece of my family. The only reason I had left to live.”

He stroked Lily’s hair gently. “Your daughter gave me a reason to get up in the morning again. Gave me something to look forward to. She didn’t see a scary biker. She saw a sad old man who needed a friend.”

Lily looked up at me. “Mommy, Mr. Thomas isn’t dangerous. He’s just lonely. He doesn’t have any family. He doesn’t have anyone to eat lunch with.”

One of the police officers cleared his throat. “Ma’am, we ran his record. He’s completely clean. Vietnam veteran. Retired firefighter. Thirty years of service. Multiple commendations.” He paused. “He’s exactly who he says he is. A grieving grandfather who found comfort in your daughter’s kindness.”

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