It was love at first sight, said Albert. I'd never seen a Harley Davidson
in real life before. Just when I was at the pictures with some American
cop hiding on one behind a billboard. At the time Albert was riding an Ariel
Square Four and saving up for a Hydraglide. The price tag on the 45
he saw in the bike shop window was £150 a lot of money in 1947.
The 45 was an Army war surplus machine that had been bought in its
crate by Kings of Oxford. Albert had to have it. He fired in with
forty quid cash and traded in the Ariel Square Four.
And so began the legend that has become Albert Emmet and the Wrecking Crew....
Albert Emmet, was born on the 21st April 1930. The last time I
saw him he was aged almost 73 years old but he was still the same
cheerful, big-hearted bear of a man known and loved by Harley
riders the world over. This page is dedicated to the man who made
it all happen. The man who made the Wrecking Crew and the man who
was one of the first dozen to own and ride a Harley Davidson in the UK.
I was round at his house with Lucan one cold Sunday afternoon in January
2003 to talk about his life and times. Needless to say Albert was more
interested in entertaining his audience than in giving out information.
"You know why they call Harley Davidson's Hogs?" he asked me in that way
that has you laughing, even before the punch line is on its way out.
I just shook my head because I've already got tears running down my cheeks.
"Because they leave puddles everywhere and they like riding in the back of trucks",
Albert finishes off. So when the laughter subsides I tried to slip in another
question. But now him and Lucan were sparking off each other and there was no
stopping him.
"And do you know what AMF stands for ?" asked Albert, his eyes twinkling with mirth.
I just shook my head. Out came the perfectly timed reply, from Albert,
"Adios, Mother-Fucker". We all collapsed with another belly laugh.
This was Albert at his best. The sort of form that used to have thousands
of bikers laughing fit to bust at thousand of rallies and in thousands of
bars over many happy years. I remember watching him and thinking,
"This guy could have been a bigger stand up act than Billy Connolly".
And Albert had what it takes. The commanding presence, the quick wit, the
intelligence and the total self-confidence to keep the banter coming until
you just want to crawl off and die because it hurt to laugh so much. On
top of that he had the rarest and most treasured quality that any human
being can have. When he was talking to you he made you feel that you
were the most important person in the world. And that was probably why
everybody loved him.
In between the laughs bits of his story slipped out. In 1947 he was
travelling down London Road in Liverpool when he set eyes on a gleaming
45 in a motor cycle shop window. It was a US Army surplus machine.
One of many bought up by Kings of Oxford when the Yanks were clearing off
home after the war and leaving all their kit behind. The bikes were still
in the crates when Kings got hold of them. After being assembled and given
a civilian coat of paint they went on sale for £150. A fortune back in those
days. When Albert saw the bike he was saving up for a Hydraglide and riding
about on an Arial Square 4. He put in £40 of his own money and traded in the
Arial to buy the 45. It served him well and he rode it until 1979 when he parted
with it for £800. Not bad when you consider all the miles and all the fun he
had had on it in the meantime.
But there was far more to Albert than being one of the first Harley Davidson
owners in the country. This was a time when there were so few Harley riders
in the UK that they held house meetings. This was when Fred Warr was the only
Harley Davidson importer in the UK and he had a map on his wall marked with
red dots to show the towns where all the Harley riders lived.
But there was a lot more to Albert than being a biker. He was a time-served
Master Plumber who could have told you more about Gallileo than you could
have read in an encyclopaedia. He was also a versatile and talented musician
and could play not only a mean guitar but was also accomplished on the banjo.
At one time he played as a member of the "Dark Town Strutters". They had a regular
gig at the Palace Hotel in Southport for six years. On top of that he was a
family man and celebrated his Golden Wedding to Pat in December 2002.
Suddenly, we had been talking for hours and my ribs were hurting from the
laughter. It was time to go but little did I realise that this was to be
my last meeting with a living legend. I had come to find out Albert's story
and try to put it down for others to read later. But it was already too late.
Albert checked out only a couple of months later on the eve of the Wrecking
Crew Rally at Silverdale in 2003. The Wrecking Crew met up that night and relived
his life with all the stories that had he told to make us laugh over the years.
It was a party and we celebrated his life. Albert may not have been there in
body but he was in spirit. And his story will live on.
There will never be another one like Albert Emmett.....
Paddy : Club Secretary
