New Years Eve 1986.
I was riding my Yamaha 650 through a snowstorm.
Approaching Houston and 2nd Avenue the light changed to red.
I skidded through the intersection excepting the worse. Cars crisscrossed my path. I stopped against the curb.
A 9th Precinct cop said, “Damn you were lucky.”
“That I was.” “Where you Headed?”
“Home to 10th Street.”
“That’s not a bad idea.”
He was right.
I was lucky.
But if anyone was luckier in life, it was Indian Larry.