Forty bikers lined their motorcycles along the curb outside Lincoln Elementary on a Monday morning, and every one of them was there because I asked.
My son is 8. His name is Owen. He’s autistic, he doesn’t speak much, and when the noise in a room gets to be too much he covers his ears and rocks. That’s it. That’s the whole thing.
The Friday before, he came home with a bruise on his shoulder blade the shape of four fingers.
