14 Witnesses Reveal The Nicest Things They’ve Ever Seen A Gang Member Do.

You might shrink up in your car when you see a biker gang in your rearview mirror, but maybe you shouldn't.

If there's anything that these stories about gangs doing nice things should show you, it's that you can't judge a book by its cover...

Many thanks to reddit user hollywoodh17 for sharing this question. Check out more answers from the source at the end of this article!

1/14. My Grandma would have died had a Hell's Angel not transported blood for her in the middle of the night.


2/14. When I was fifteen, someone slipped acid in my soda at a bar. (My stepdad played in a skeezy "southern rock" cover band, so I spent a lot of time in bars with my parents, helping my mom run the sound board.)

I don't remember much about what happened, but at some point a group of Ghostriders gathered around me as I was in a corner rocking back and forth and carried me out to a car and took me home. They made me tea and brought me crackers and basically talked me through it until dawn. My parents stayed at the bar and worked. They just let these bikers take me home and take care of me.

Two of them were convicted felons with violent offences who had done many years in prison.


3/14. The Westboro Baptist Church came to my town to protest President Obama's visit, and to also claim that a massive tornado that killed 161 people in my town just few days prior was deserved for whatever reasons. Luckily, HUNDREDS of bikers in gangs and truckers blocked them in at a gas station and nobody saw them that day.


4/14. I didn't see this personally, but about 20 years ago my mother was a fifth grade teacher in Compton. For those of you who don't know, Compton is pretty notorious when it comes to its concentration of gangs and gang violence, especially where she lived and taught. It was a pretty average night if you heard between 1-10 gunshots. My mom, being the boss that she is, refused to leave the district or teach anywhere else.

Anyway, her first year teaching there she had a group of five boys. All of them living in destitute poverty. During break, they loved to draw pictures of cars like Lamborghini's and Porsches. All things that they could never afford. They all promised my mom that if they ever got a car, she would be the first person that they would take for a ride.

Skipping ahead about 8 years my mom was leaving the school late after staying to grade some tests. As she was walking to her car, she saw a shady group of boys leaning against a car watching her. She began to walk fast but the boys got up and began walking towards her. All of them were wearing the telltale blue bandanas (crips) and my mom said they she could see one who was packing a Saturday night special.

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Anyway, just as she got to her car door the group of boys reached her. One of them spoke in deep, intimidating voice "Mrs, we're here to take you for a ride". My mom thought she was being kidnapped, and reached for her pepper spray. Then another of the group stepped forward and introduced themselves as the five boys that she taught about eight years ago.

They squeezed my mom into the backseat of an old, beat up Cadillac between two of the students. They took her to a really fancy restaurant somewhere and paid for her meal in full. Later they took her back to her car, dropped her off, and told her if she ever needed anything to call them. Then drove off.


5/14. The Hell's Angels participate in an annual toy drive around here, collecting toys for poor or sick children.


6/14. I ran the after-school program at an elementary school in a rough part of town. Our playground was actually a "city park", which meant we couldn't do the maintenance on broken equipment and I couldn't kick people out to make it safer for my kids. I'd had problems with some teen & 20-something dickheads drinking with their meth-head girlfriends while the kids were out playing and we didn't deserve to just stay inside because cops didn't patrol.

My kids deserved to play. It was frustrating.

One day, a couple gnarly old guys approached me while we were outside (which scared me) and asked if I had been having trouble with the neighbors coming around. I told them that it had been pretty rough. One just clapped a hand on my back and said "Y'aint gonna have that no more, and y'aint gonna have no trouble from us."

The next day, a biker was by the basketball court keeping watch while the kids played, and left when we were done. That continued every day for the rest of the school year.

Also, the guys who "stood watch" never smoked or cussed while the kids were out there. I don't condone their activity, but I appreciated their help.


7/14. When I was in high school I went on a double date to go see a movie (don't remember which one) and when we came out of the theater we realized that my friend who drove had locked his keys in the car.

We spent an hour or so asking/begging cops that we saw in the parking lot to unlock the car for us and every one of them turned us down.

Then seemingly out of nowhere this gentleman appears, sees us looking in the window of our car, and asks if he can help us. We explain the situation, he says he can help.

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Within fifteen seconds our car is unlocked.

Being amazed high schoolers we just stared in awe at what had happened, then he leaves us with these parting words: "Today is my first day out of prison, I was in for grand theft auto" and off he walked.


8/14. The Yakuza in Japan are known to help with the reconstruction every time there is a tsunami.


9/14. I was 19 and stranded in North Miami. I had just locked my keys in my car in a rather unpopulated and shady area. (I am/was a blonde, blue-eyed extremely white girl, and being as I had not intended to stop in North Miami to begin with, I was just wearing a bikini top and a miniskirt.)

There was a gang of youths in the parking lot of an abandoned warehouse across the street from me, just watching me. This was long before cell phones and such. I took a chance and just put on my most confident face and walked over to them and asked if anyone knew how to break into a car and could they help me.

They all looked at each other for a second, you could tell they were thinking over all the possibilities. Then one of them shook his head and just walked over to my car and popped my lock with his pocket knife and a piece of wire he found on the ground.


10/14. My dad was a biker, since I was about 17. He loved riding on his BMW, and was always tinkering with one of them in the garage. While he never joined a gang, he was friendly enough to them when they came around to his local bar, or when he saw them while on a ride with his buddies. Dad went on cross country trips, mainly ending up in Wisconsin to visit friends.

Fast forward to this past Christmas. My dad died on the 23, and we were having his funeral. Mom insisted on him looking 'proper', though I was holding onto his biker vest. A bunch of bikers came in, a significant number from a gang (I was later told). Many rode in the Ohio cold on their bikes in his memory. One in particular came from Wisconsin just to give me a necklace dad left him to fix up for me.

I had this necklace since I was a small child, dad bought it for me. It broke when I was 14, and I haven't seen it until he brought it back to me, fixed up.


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11/14. When I was younger, I lived in a relatively bad part of town. I was/am Asian/White, and most of my neighbors were Black or Hispanic. I started playing sports at school, and made friends with a number of kids, including this one guy named Thaddeus who was two years older than me. Thaddeus was a big, tough kid, but a secret that he kept from a lot of people was that he sang like an angel. He told me once, and sang R. Kelly's "I Believe I Can Fly", and I've never heard it done better.

I swore to him I would never tell a soul and I never did.

Thaddeus got involved in some gang activity later on, and I lost touch with him until high school. I was walking home late one night when I was approached by a group of teenagers who apparently saw me as an easy mark. I wasn't sure whether I was just going to get mugged or was going to get an ass-kicking out of it too (I think my membership on the football team was the only thing that saved me from an immediate beatdown) but it wasn't going to end well.

Suddenly, I hear a loud "HEY! THE F*CK ARE YOU DOING? LEAVE HIM ALONE!" I look over, and Thaddeus and a couple older (20+) guys are pushing into this circle. Thaddeus throws an arm around my shoulders and says "He's cool. You f*ck with him, you f*ck with me."

The teenagers dispersed, and Thaddeus made sure I was ok before sending me on my way. I was a bit shook up at the time, so it wasn't until I reflected later that I realized that Thaddeus and all the older guys were pretty obviously strapped, and their status saved me from any trouble for the remainder of my time in high school.


12/14. Two good encounters with Bikies.

The father of a schoolmate was an Angel. Despite being an enourmous, scary, hairy, bear of a man who was constantly covered in leather and stunk of oil and beer... he was a great guy. He always looked after his kids and their friends, when one of my friends got lost on the local moorland he got some mates on buggies to go find him.

The second one was more recently. I ride a beat up little 50cc scooter, and was at the front of a bunch of cars trying to change lanes so I could turn of the major road I was in after a light change... two bikies, not sure which gang there are a ton local, saw me struggling with some asshole in a 4x4 not getting ahead or falling back so I could change lanes. These two bikies swung in front of him and forced an entire lane to slow down, then waved me in.


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13/14. Professor told us this story while we were on a field trip in Arkansas.

He was giving a lesson in the Ozark Mountains at some outcrop on the side of the road when he heard a rumble coming down the road. Next thing he knew there were about 100 rough and tumble Hells Angels coming toward them. As they passed he said the rumble was deafening.

Finally the whole crew passed them, when he noticed that the leader of the pack called for a u-turn. As they made the u-turn they approached the class going on and all the bikers brought their bikes to a stop.

Not knowing what was going on, my professor asks if he can help them. The leader then proceeded to say that he saw something about geology on the history channel and was wondering if he could sit in on the lecture my professor was giving.

With a laugh my professor obliged and looks back on it as the most rewarding lecture he's ever given.


14/14. Not the Hell's Angels, but another motorcycle "club" that my uncle was a member of showed up with hundred of people after he was killed in an accident (hit by a drunk driver while on his bike). The funeral home was about 5 miles from the cemetery and I am pretty sure that's how long the procession was.



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When in doubt.... be a Karen! LOL

We've all seen them and at times we may have been one A KAREN! You know who that is.... a difficult person, that's describing it politely. Karen's make scenes and do all that is necessary to get anything and everything their way. Working in any form of a service job, Karens are your worst nightmare.

Redditor u/externalodyssey wanted to hear from everybody about their Karen encounters by asking.... Managers of Reddit - what is a Karen experience like ? What was you worst experience ?

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