Hells Angels rumble through Daly City in tribute to fallen leader

In a continuous wave of gleaming chrome and worn black leather,
thousands of Hells Angels rumbled into Duggan's Serra Mortuary on
Monday to honor their fallen brother.



Many kept to themselves, while others consoled one another with one-armed hugs and whispered words of support.


At least 2,000 Hells Angels and associates paid their respects to
46-year-old Mark "Papa" Guardado, president of the Hells Angels' San
Francisco chapter.



"He was a great guy," said one Hells Angel who didn't give his name. "We're going to miss him."



"Digital," a biker from Bloodline, a motorcycle club in Oakland, agreed.



"We're here to show support," he said.


Guardado was shot on the night of Sept. 2 outside Dirty Thieves, a
dive bar at 24th Street and Treat Avenue in San Francisco's Mission
district. He was taken to San Francisco General Hospital, where he
died.


San Francisco police suspect 37-year-old Christopher Ablett, a
member of the Mongols, a rival motorcycle club, was responsible for his
death. San Francisco police reportedly issued a $5 million warrant last
week for the Modesto resident's arrest.



Police reportedly searched Ablett's home and seized a motorcycle and other items. Ablett is still on the loose.


Officers with the California Highway Patrol and Daly City, San
Francisco and Colma police departments maintained a low profile Monday
morning. They observed from various vantage points during what



Daly City police Cpt. Eric Wollman described as the largest funeral ever held in Daly City.


Wollman refused to disclose how many officers were present, and said
their job was to assist the group in their procession to Cypress Lawn
Cemetery in Colma and the Hells Angels clubhouse in San Francisco's
Potrero Hill neighborhood.


"It's difficult, it's unique and it's fluid," said Wollman, who also
worried about possible retaliation if members of the Mongols Motorcycle
Club showed up. "We have to respond to whatever occurs, moment to
moment."



Meanwhile, spectators were drawn to the massive procession at Duggan's.


People gathered to watch from each level of a nearby multilevel
parking garage, while more stood with members of the media on a dirt
lot across from the funeral home, where the smell of exhaust was
potent.



Few mourners were in the mood to talk, especially not to reporters.


"We don't get along with the press," said one member, guarding the
parking lot. "And if you stick a camera in someone's face, you're
asking for trouble."



Sgt. David Macriss of the Daly City police said there were no incidents aside from minor accidents between motorcycles.


A Daly City resident who did not want to give his name said he
attended Sunday night's vigil at a local mortuary home. He and his
brother used to ride motorcycles, and said he knows some of the guys
who attended the funeral.



"I'm here to pay a little tribute," he said.



A few feet away, Mary Kay Mitchell smiled.


"I've never seen so much concentrated testosterone in my life," said
the special events manager at Breathe California, a nonprofit. "This is
the real deal. The last American cowboys who ride their horses, but
their horses are metal."


Her admiration for the outlaw motorcycle club was undeniable, and
she didn't care that she was late for work. Instead she took in the
scene, observing the interactions among the men and marvelling at the
members of the She Devils Motorcycle Club as they roared past her



"This is so California," the 56-year-old Redwood City resident said. "This is so Americana. It's history in its own weird way."



Jim Flaherty, 66, of Daly City, was happy to watch as well.


"This is part of our culture," Flaherty said. "The motorcycles, the
camaraderie - despite all the hassles, this is a brotherhood. I'm sure
I'll never see this in my lifetime, especially in my backyard."


Mark "Papa" Guardado, 46, was killed Sept. 2 outside a Mission District
bar. At the time, he was president of the Frisco Hells Angels. He was
shot to death, police say, by Christopher Ablett, 37, of Modesto, a
member of the rival Mongols Motorcycle Club, whose bad blood with the
Hells Angels goes back in history. Ablett is still being sought.


But there was little talk of the Mongols as the Hells Angels
gathered to remember Guardado at a vigil Sunday night and funeral
Monday morning; little more than a passing, irritated reference to a
Sonoma County prosecutor who had charges pending against Guardado
stemming from a bar fight and who called him a dangerous gang member
with an assault conviction on his record.


Instead, those gathered remembered their Guardado, the friend or
surrogate father, the man who many said bought them their first
Harley-Davidson - or helped them get the job they needed to buy their
own.


"To me, and everyone that knew him, he was the epitome of Hells
Angels," said Richard Goldammer, who rode from his home in British
Columbia to honor the man he called his mentor.


"He set an example for a lot of people, being straight up, honest
and respectful to everyone," he said. "People form their own opinion
about our club ... we are who we are. We stand in our own social
circle."


It is a circle with many intersecting rings that pulled together in
Daly City for what many hailed as an event of unprecedented scale.


Well over 2,000 motorcyclists gathered at Duggan's Serra Mortuary
for the two-day memorial: Hells Angels chapters from Alaska to Maine,
from Rhode Island to Hawaii, and from overseas - Norway, Germany,
England, Australia, Italy and more.


And not just Hells Angels showed up. Duggan's parking lot hosted a
collection of motorcycle clubs rarely seen outside events in Hollister
or Sturgis, S.D., - the Mecca and Medina of biker culture. Top Hatters
and Henchmen, Vampires and Devil Dolls, representatives of large groups
and small, they all slapped leather-clad shoulders and shared tears and
tales of Papa Guadardo, or just exchanged stories from the road.


Overall, despite the continuous rumble of motorcycles arriving and
departing, the farewell to Guardado was as quiet and thoughtful as any
funeral. Police expected and reported few incidents. A few beers and
flasks were raised in the assemblage, but most drank water and soda or
coffee as they waited and mourned.


As the vigil began Sunday evening, mourners packed the main room at
Duggan's and several smaller rooms, where they watched on closed
circuit television. Huge, grizzled men wept as one of their number sang
Willie Nelson's "Angel Flying Too Close to the Ground," accompanying
himself on saxophone.


An emotional pastor described Guardado as a friendly, supportive
man, a good son, father, uncle and godfather whose independent streak
began with a runaway attempt as a 5-year-old. He described Guardado's
good acts - donning a Santa hat to take gifts to children in the
hospital at Christmas, or to children whose fathers were in prison;
taking food left over after club events to feed the homeless.



"When you do right they never remember," the pastor said. "When you do wrong they never forget."



The vigil ended with Guardado's goddaughter singing Alicia Keys' "Prelude to a Kiss."



"It's a long long way to heaven. But I gotta get there. Can you send me an angel to guide me?"


The caravan escorting Guardado's coffin to Colma's Cypress Lawn
Cemetery on Monday morning went by way of San Francisco's Mission
District, a river of thunder that flowed through the urban canyons for
more than an hour. The caravan didn't stop for signals; it set its own
speed limit. Some onlookers waved, some took pictures, some pressed
hands to ears and waited for the end. And for a brief period on
Interstate 280, as police halted all other freeway traffic, the
mourners took over the roads.


They buried Papa not too far from where former Daly City Hells
Angels President Harry "The Horse" Flamburis is buried with his
motorcycle. The Frisco Hells Angels and a sea of red-and-white-clad
others formed a close group around Guardado's grave. A few words were
spoken as a biker on the outskirts cranked Metallica's somber ode
"Nothing Else Matters."


The ceremony over, the Angels picked up shovels and buried their
leader. Then they returned to their motorcycles and roared away.