AMERICAN MOTORCYCLIST SEPTEMBER 2018

Back In The Family

Some Bikes Always Come Home

By John H. Rasp III (with Annette M. Rasp), Photos by Chrisstan Photography

As long as I can remember, my dad’s love for his 1952 Harley EL Panhead really stood out.

I was never really sure where he bought it, because he never really said. I asked my mom, and all she could remember about the purchase was the day he came hauling it up the driveway on the back of his truck.

Mom said that dad was always bringing bikes or parts of bikes home, but this one was special, and she knew it. She said she knew he would never part with it.

From the moment dad got the bike up and running, the two of them rode it every weekend, whenever possible. Mom rode on the back of that ’52 Panhead right up until the day I was born. The family teased me my whole life, because I was practically born on that bike.

The story was always told that on my birthday, May 22, 1964. Supposedly, dad had an issue with the shifter and almost ended up putting the bike—with mom on it—through the garage wall.

Mom always said that scare put her into labor, and, a few hours later, I was born.

Early Experiences

All my life consisted of attending AMA-sanctioned poker runs and AMA-sanctioned dirt track racing.

My father was so involved with motorcycles that he and his friend, Bud Knable, purchased a piece of land and started the Tuscarora Motorcycle Club. The great part about the club was that it was within walking distance of our house. So, as a child, I was never excluded from the activities.

As dad’s passion for motorcycles grew, so did my brother Monte’s desire to race AMA flat track and hare scrambles. So, dad and Bud decided they should take over the old Davis Lane Speedway in Hustontown, Pa. They were sanctioned under AMA District 6.

During that time, we had people from all over the country attending those races. When we weren’t racing there, we were traveling to other places to compete.

 

 

Sidecar Rig

One day, dad decided that we needed a sidecar, so that all of us could go on the weekly poker runs as a family.

I remember the day dad’s friend, Dave, called to tell us that he had found us a sidecar. I was about 7 or 8 years old and excited about being able to go with them on all the weekly rides.

Dad and I got in the truck and rode out to an old farm in the country. Dad knew it was going to take a lot of cleaning and work to get the sidecar road ready, but he paid the man $20, and we loaded it up and brought it home.

Dad worked on that sidecar nonstop once he got it home.

Before long, dad had it fixed and he would load us all on the bike. Mom and I would be in the sidecar, and my sister, Michelle, would be on the back of the motorcycle, holding on to dad. Oh, the fun we would have on those weekend adventures!

Plus, we met some of the nicest people, and some of those people became lifelong family friends.

Dad parked the bike in 1976, because the engine was worn out and needed to be replaced. Instead of putting the money into the ’52, dad decided to purchase a new bike. He retired the ’52 Panhead to the shed behind the house.

Not For Sale

In 1980, dad had a knock on his door. A young man named Luke Hill was there to ask about purchasing the 1952 Panhead.

Luke said he had asked his father if he knew of any riders who might still own their old Harley Panheads. Luke said his dad laughed and said, “Pete Rasp does, but I doubt you will ever get it away from him.”

I asked Luke later if he would share the story with me about how he got dad to sell the bike to him.

Luke said that he would never forget the day. He said dad opened the door and grunted at him, “What do you want?”

Luke said he was a little scary, with his rough voice and somewhat hostile attitude. But he figured he had made it this far, so he might as well tell him who he was. Once Luke explained who his father was, my dad actually let him in the house.

Mom poured the coffee, and they all talked for quite a while before he got up the nerve to ask dad about the ’52 Panhead.

Luke said he would never forget the response when he asked, “Pete, would you ever consider selling me the ’52?”

Dad’s immediate response was, “Hell, no.”

So then Luke asked him if he could at least look at it.

 

And dad said, “What for?”

Luke laughed and said, “Because I love old bikes, and I really want to restore one to ride.”

After a lot of talking, Luke said that he finally wore dad down and they out to the shed to see it.

When dad uncovered that ’52, Luke said, he knew without a doubt that he wanted that bike. He also said he knew it was going to take a lot of time and patience to get this bike from dad.

Persistence Wins

For the next 15 years, Luke hounded dad about selling the bike every time he saw him.

As a matter of fact, Luke said that it became quite a funny adventure, because every time my parents saw Luke in public, they knew that he was going to walk over to ask if he was ready to sell the bike.

Luke said he could hear my mom long before he got to them. “Here comes that Luke to ask you about selling that bike. What are you going to do?”

And dad would shake his head and laugh.

As soon as Luke would get to him, dad would say, “Boy, you’re not getting my bike.”

But on March 29, 1995, my father finally consented and sold the bike to Luke.

It took dad six months to actually tell me that it was gone.

I think he was always conflicted about which son to give it to so, in his mind, selling it to an outsider was the best solution.

The ‘Retirement Fund’

Over the course of a year, Luke kept his promise to get the 1952 Panhead up and running.

I’ll never forget the day dad told me about Luke driving it to the house.

Dad was like a kid in the candy store—so overjoyed to see the bike operating again.

Luke knew how special that bike was to dad. Luke told him that if he ever decided to sell it, that he would sell it back to me.

When dad told me that, I took it seriously. So I started a “retirement” fund, knowing that bike would cost me a lot more than Luke paid for it.

Over the next 22 years, Luke and I became very good friends. We talked a lot about that bike and how much I wanted it if he ever decided to sell it.

I remember the day I called Luke and told him that my dad was dying.

Luke said, “I’ll be up to visit.”

As soon as I saw it, I knew without a doubt that I wanted that bike back in my family. We talked for a couple hours and sealed the deal with a handshake.

Dad was so happy to see Luke and talk about the ’52 Panhead and the past.

Dad passed away on March 20, 2017, at home, with his family by his side.

Luke came to pay his respects at my dad’s funeral. Mom told me later that, while Luke was talking to her, he had leaned over and whispered into her ear, “Don’t worry, John will be getting the bike.”

Mom was very happy to hear this.

Not long after father’s death, I called Luke and asked him if I could come see the bike. He told me that I could, but he would have to dig it out.

He kept it in the back of the garage, covered up, so that people wouldn’t bug him about selling it.

As soon as I saw it, I knew without a doubt that I wanted that bike back in my family. We talked for a couple hours and sealed the deal with a handshake.

Soon after, my wife and I were in Myrtle Beach, S.C., when I received a call and voicemail saying “Guess where I’m at with the old Panhead?”

I called Luke back, and he told me that he had taken a ride to visit my mom to tell her that he was selling the bike to me. He also told me that he wanted to clean it and tune it up before I took possession of it.

I purchased the bike and the sidecar from Luke on July 25, 2017.

 

That old Panhead is back in the family.

John H Rasp III is an AMA Charter Life Member. His wife, Annette M. Rasp, is an AMA Associate Charter Life Member. They live in McConnellsburg, Pa.

American Motorcyclist September 2018