A Six-Year-Old Called Me “Santa Biker” After Our Twelfth Christmas Ride—Then He Told Me His Mother’s Name

Synopsis

For twelve Christmases, children had cheered when my thirty-bike convoy reached the shelter, but no child had ever run through the snow, wrapped both arms around my leg, and called me “Santa Biker.” My name is Gabriel “Bear” Callahan. I was fifty-five that winter, built like an old refrigerator, with a gray beard, tattooed arms, and a leather vest that made…