When I was at the Calaveras County Frog Jump in the summer of 1968, I was invited to camp out with the Hells' Angels, who were there for the weekend festival. As I remember, there were about 300 Hells Angels at the frog jump. Because I owned a chopper motorcycle, and I was riding by myself, I was invited to join the Hell's Angels in their camping area. After three days of parties with the Hells Angels I witnessed a group of Hells Angels beating somebody very badly (a few years later I learned that the man was an undercover FBI agent and that he was beaten to death).
After the brawl a couple of Hells Angels asked me if I wanted to go to another party higher up in the mountains, and I said "yes." Three of us started out riding on only two motorcycles. One man was riding on his motorcycle and another man asked to ride on the back of my motorcycle with me. Shortly after we left the frog jump campgrounds, the Hell's Angel riding in front of me was hit head on by a camper truck. The accident happed because the Hell's Angel veered into the other lane. The two of us were only about 20 yards behind when the accident happened. The camper truck rolled over this guy crushing him to death. I quickly pulled over and walked to the other side of the road and looked at him. He was completely crushed with the front wheel sitting on his chest. After looking at this gruesome scene, I decided to leave. I then got on my motorcycle and left the other Hell's Angels guy standing there.
While riding my motorcycle home to Stockton, I was near the town of Angels' Camp when the engine stalled, and I had to pull over. I was trying to repair my motorcycle, when a person pulled over and asked me if needed any help. The man was riding a Norton motorcycle. He was dean-cut (not an outlaw biker), and he was very friendly. After I finished the repair, we began riding together. When we got into Angels' Camp, my motorcycle stalled again. So, we stopped at a gas station, and this friendly man, named Charles, paid for the repairs. This surprised me that someone would befriend me and pay his own money to help me. As we continued riding together, we stop a few times during our journey to sit and talk. At one point during our conversation Charles said; "Ron, I have been listening to you for a while, and I can tell you, in this life you are riding on a fence. If you continue to ride your motorcycle and associate with the Hell's Angels, you will fall off that fence into eternal darkness and never get out"! Needless to say, this was a very shocking statement, and I never forgot his words.
When we reached Charles' home in Stockton, he said good-bye and then told me to come back and visit with him in three days. I then drove to the corner and wrote down his address and the street name. Three days later when I attempted to return to his house, the street where his house was located did not exist! Not only did the street not exist, neither did his house, although I had a street name and an address. I even went door-to-door asking neighbors if anyone knew a man named "Charles" who owned a Norton motorcycle. No one knew him. Several people said to me that no one even had a motorcycle in this neighborhood! I was completely beside myself, because this experience was completely inexplicable. I sat on the street corner for hours trying to understand what had happened.
In the following months, I began reading the Bible and going to Christian churches seeking an explanation. However, it was only when I began studying the Divine Principle and listening to Reverend Moon's speeches that these events began to make sense. I have reached two conclusions: First, if that Hell's Angels guy had not been hit head-on by a camper truck and died, I would have been with those two Hells Angels. Second, meeting Charles changed my life because he said to me; "Ron I have been listing to you for a while. I can tell you, in this life you are riding on a fence; if you continue to ride your motorcycle and associate with the Hell's Angeles then you will fall off that fence into eternal darkness and never get out"! After studying the Divine Principle, I finally theorized that Charles was probably an angel sent by God to save me.
From Tribute, pp. 260-62.