Fergus Falls, Minnesota — On an early spring late afternoon, Fergus Falls children mount their bikes in the parking lot of the local YMCA.
A police sergeant instructs bikers as they loop around traffic cones.
A slender man with a pleasant demeanor fills a table with shiny blue helmets.
This isn’t Mike Heikes’ first bike rodeo.
“I’ve been doing it most of my adult life,” he jokes.
Mike will give out a couple dozen helmets to kids for free over the next two hours.
Mike’s enthusiasm for this volunteer work was accompanied by pain.
“My brain injury happened when I was 18,” he said.
The year was 1982.
Mike was a week away from starting college on a scholarship.
“Yep, not a care in the world,” he says.
Then, a night of celebration, too many drinks, and a curve taken too quickly altered Mike’s life path.
The Mustang driven by Mike’s friend lost control and rolled.
“I was thrown through a closed window and landed on the highway,” Mike told me. “There was a trail of blood about 20 feet where I slid.”
Mike arrived at the hospital in critical condition.
There, a member of the medical team handed Mike’s mother a bag containing his shaved hair.
“She was supposed to give it to the funeral home,” Mike explains; “and they were going to put it back on my head to make me look presentable.”
Mike lived.
The Post-it notes that hang around his house, however, serve as a reminder of the damage done.
“Use up canned meat,” one of them says.
“Take a loaf of bread out,” says another.
“My favorite place to write notes is on my hand,” Mike says, before opening his palm and writing, “11:00 KARE.”
“That’s when you were coming,” he tells the KARE 11 visitors. “Otherwise, I’ll forget.”
This is the life of a brain injury survivor.
However, Mike’s life also includes visits to bike rodeos and schools, where he fits children for free helmets.
“If you live through a brain injury, you don’t want to see anyone else have a brain injury,” according to him.
Mike got the idea after his accident. Mike began biking after becoming unable to drive due to his injuries.
It bothered him to see children riding bicycles without helmets. The brain injury survivor resolved to fix it.
“I started in 1999, and I’ve given over 22,000 away,” Mike tells me.
Mike ordered so many helmets that semis began pulling up to his driveway to deliver them.
“They cost $10 a piece,” Mike says, pulling helmets from a stack of boxes in his garage.
Mike collects donations at businesses in and around Fergus Falls. He also applies for grants from local service organizations.
Sometimes he falls short.
“That’s what home equity loans are for,” he admits sheepishly.
Consider it a second mortgage for his top priority.
“I hurt my brain in a car accident, but it could happen on a bike just the same,” Mike tells a boy he’s fitting for a helmet.
Patrick Hollister helps run the bike rodeo.
“He’s one of our local treasures,” he tells me.
Patrick was among those disappointed last year when a headline in the local newspaper announced Mike’s retirement from helmet-giving.
“I need speech therapy,” the still-unretired Mike jokes as he distributes more helmets. “I have a hard time saying ‘no.'”
Mike might remember this next year.
In jest, he picks up a pen, smiles, and writes, “RETIRE.”
Nonetheless, it might be wise to hedge your bets that this is Mike’s final rodeo.