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The Fly and the Biker
A motorcyclist in rural Minnesota refused to wear a
helmet. He loved the feel of the wind in his face and
hair as he raced down the highway, and he wasn't going
to give up that sensation.
His family and friends tried to talk sense into him. The
highway patrol cops gave him one ticket after another.
Even his fellow bikers urged him to wear a helmet. But
he could not be persuaded.
"I've been riding for 15 years," he would say. "I've got
great reflexes and I've never had an accident. So forget
One hot summer day he was on his bike, speeding along
his favorite stretch of road in the back woods of
Minnesota. The road was empty. No cops were in sight. So
he decided to take his Harley to the limit. At 150 miles
per hour, something hit his eye. He lost control and
flew off the bike into a ditch, where a passing motorist
found him a few hours later. He was dead.
At the hospital the doctors sat down with the biker's
distraught family. "It wasn't the crash that killed him.
He was dead before he was thrown from the bike."
"Was it a heart attack, then?" the father asked.
"No. In fact, it was a freak accident. A fly killed him.
You see, your son was traveling at such high speed that
when he hit a fly, it pierced right through his cornea
and into his brain.
"The sad thing is," the doctor continued, "this tragedy
could have been avoided if he had been wearing a