By Joe Gresh
I have conflicting emotions writing about Evans Brasfield. He was killed on a motorcycle recently and he was my editor for a brief time at the website Motorcycle.com. The thing that bothers me as a writer is: Am I doing this out of respect or will people think I’m somehow using Evans’ death to fill space in this web site? If you write a lot of stories like we do here on ExhaustNotes.us there is an endless search for topics. I hope I’m not doing that but Evans would totally understand my quandary and I hope approve. Lots of people knew Brasfield much better than I did. I should probably shut up and let them tell his story. Still, I want to write about this man I never met in person and only emailed with or spoke on the phone.
After I was booted from the paper motorcycle magazine I was writing for I tried a few other venues to publish my stuff. The pay was ridiculously low compared to the magazine and I stopped writing altogether as it didn’t seem worth my time. Most writers are a mix of hubris and insecurity; you need to think highly of yourself to suppose someone would want to read what you write. At the same time, deep down inside you need to be told you don’t suck at the job.
After a hiatus I pitched a story to Evans and he liked it. He told me he liked it, which was like crack cocaine to me. I needed someone to tell me I wasn’t washed up. I followed up the first story with several others. The pay wasn’t horrible and Brasfield made big of my efforts, swelling my ego to no end. In the comment section after my oddball stories Brasfield would write how fortunate he was that I submitted stories. When Brasfield said you were good enough you were damn well good enough. The guy was an absolute sweetheart and I felt like valued contributor.
Covid hit revenue for all businesses and overnight the economy collapsed like the house of cards it was. The Internet motorcycle websites were no different than the rest of the world. Brasfield told me in an email that they were dropping freelancers and going with mostly staff-written content. I didn’t like the news but at least he told me where I stood and we parted friends.
Hearing that Evans was killed in a motorcycle accident shocked me more than usual because he was such a vital presence online. I followed his Facebook page and we frequently exchanged comments. He was like a real life friend in that way. Everything I’ve read about Brasfield was positive and his own postings were typically positive. He loved his beautiful family and life must have been damn near perfect for him.
Motorcyclists live in denial. If we ever thought about what we were doing, putting a fragile bag of water atop a speeding, two-wheeled machine with next to nothing for protection, we wouldn’t do it. My feelings of “It could never happen to me” are gone now. If a good man and skilled rider like Brasfield can die in a motorcycle accident, any of us can. Hug your loved ones and enjoy the moment. Feel the warm sun and the cold rain. Look out at nature and marvel in your sentience. There are no promises in life and I wish I had known Evans Brasfield better.
It’s always sad when you lose a friend or anyone for that matter. We choose to ride knowing we could die because we need to. It’s a part of our lives and it’s the reason we are where we are today. We all know we have to believe it will not happen to us but we realize it can every time someone cuts us off. Most riders would not want others to stop
All the skill in the world won’t protect you from something you have no control over. We “bags of water” are often at the mercy of other road users and these days those other road users are a distracted bunch of numnuts. Still we roll the dice for the pastime we love.
Well said, Joe.
Thanks for sharing.
It was a fine tribute Joe, thank you.
Evans loved your work because your work is always excellent. It’s intriguing, engaging, and it keeps the reader’s attention. Evans didn’t pay false compliments so anything he said about your work is true.
It’s been two days and I still can’t wrap my head around his death or that he died riding a motorcycle, or that we will never interact with him or hear from him again. Like you, his loss hits me harder than most.
Joe, there’s no doubt in my mind you did this out of respect.
I was fortunate enough to lend Evans motorcycles for his articles. I first met him when he came in to pick up a Ducati for an article. That was my job. I was responsible for Ducati’s Press Fleet. I also perform the same duties for Victory, and then Indian motorcycles. Evans was that journalist that returned every bike as clean as it was when he picked it up and the tank was full as it was when he picked it up. There was no arrogance. He was humble and down to earth. We discussed many topics over the years. There’s always a smile and something good to say when we met. Evans was one of the top Moto Journalist in our field. This one hurts.
Ride in Peace 🙏😎🙏
He was (I hate the was) one of my favorite people to work with. He appreciated a good story well told, a fresh take on an often repetitive comparison and brought enthusiasm to every encounter. Riders know riders, and when writers also know writers, the end result and mutual respect is great. That fact that you must write speaks to exactly what Evans would see you – a guy he felt lucky to know and even more fortunate to work with. Evans will be very missed.
Joe- I don’t know details of the accident so all the speculation concerning Brasfields skills or any contributing risks inherent of motorcycles is really irrelevant .
When you lose a friend it sucks.
So condolences to all those friends and family and coworkers who’s lives Evans touched.
You did right by a good man. That was very well said.
Nice send-off tribute for for Evans, Joe.
I was unaware of this accident until seeing your article.
Nice comments too.