Hell's Angel: The Life and Times of Sonny Barger and the Hell's Angels Motorcycle Club
Sonny Barger, Keith Zimmerman, Kent Zimmerman
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
The only authorized, authentic book about the Hell's Angels Motorcycle Club by founding member, Sonny Barger—featuring a brand new introduction
Narrated by the visionary founding member, Hell's Angel provides a fascinating all-access pass to the secret world of the notorious Hell's Angels Motorcycle Club. Sonny Barger recounts the birth of the original Oakland Hell's Angels and the four turbulent decades that followed. Hell's Angel also chronicles the way the HAMC revolutionized the look of the Harley-Davidson motorcycle and built what has become a worldwide bike-riding fraternity, a beacon for freedom-seekers the world over.
Dozens of photos, including many from private collections and from noted photographers, provide visual documentation to this extraordinary tale. Never simply a story about motorcycles, colorful characters, and high-speed thrills, Hell's Angel is the ultimate outlaw's tale of loyalty and betrayal, subcultures and brotherhood, and the real price of freedom.
scheduled a little too tight for the distance. We rode eighty to ninety miles an hour the whole way. Since we got there a half-day late, there were long lines of people waiting to get their books signed. I hopped off my bike and started signing, pronto. I never like to disappoint anybody. We had two Harley shop signings scheduled when we tooled into Los Angeles. First was Book Soup, which went well even though we were competing with a Lakers play-off game. Over at the Glendale Harley the next
Every response was “No way.” When they shipped me off from county jail to Vacaville to be processed for Folsom, even though we were still legally single, Sharon signed in as my wife during visiting privileges and received immediate clearance. When I landed in Folsom, Sharon reapplied for visiting privileges. They knew we weren’t legally married, and when they ran her rap sheet, they found she had a case pending for possession of methamphetamine. Sharon had gotten into a bike accident on the
what we had set out to do. I still would have felt better if I had gotten to that wimpy Jerry Rubin. I was willing to cut that bastard’s finger off in order to get that fucking ring. As a vet, I felt we ought to stick up for America. As long as there’s at least two people on earth, there’s going to be war. If you can’t settle peacefully, then fight it out. If you don’t want to participate in the war, fine, but don’t yell chickenshit names and throw blood on the guys forced to go. The battles
did. I walked out of the 400 Club with my friend and his girlfriend, who had phoned me. Then she had to go back into the bar to get her purse. We waited for her by our bikes for a few minutes, and then I walked back into the bar to check up on her. The chrome shop boy was now yelling at her. For me, that was it. I hit him in the head with my gun and it accidentally went off, hitting his skull. The first shot had been an accident, but since the motherfucker was already shot in the head, I bent him
on somebody because they break too easily. I spoke about how some of the people started knocking over our bikes. “Now I don’t know if you think we pay fifty dollars for them things, or steal them, or pay a lot for them or what. But most of us that’s got a good Harley chopper got a few grand invested in it. Ain’t nobody gonna kick my motorcycle. And they might think because they’re in a crowd of three hundred thousand people that they can do it and get away with it. But when you’re standing there