The Beerman
By Monk
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By Monk
Michael McKee was only 51 when he passed away after suffering a heart attack on Saturday, March 5, 2005 at Trader Jack’s Roadside. Yep, the first Saturday of Bike Week 2005. As you can imagine, it was a real blow to us, and many, many of y’all.
Mike "The Beerman" McKee
April 22, 1953 - March 5, 2005
The Beerman was a Navy Vet that worked a variety of jobs, but he always pursued his dream of photography. He started writing for Dixie Biker during Biketoberfest 2003 and last July he cut his ties to the truckin’ business, bought an RV and with lotsa help from his loving wife, Rita, and good friends Pops and B-man, converted it into a mobile photo lab. He was all psyched up to work Bike Week at Trader Jack’s Roadside in DeLand. Unfortunately, it wasn’t to be.
After gettin’ all set up on Friday, he was lookin’ forward to our DBI Blowout Party later on Saturday afternoon - meetin’ readers, shootin’ the shit and takin’ pictures. Pops and B-man went to get some coffee around 8:30 or so that mornin’, and came back to the photo lab to find the Beerman lyin’ on the ground. They immediately called 911, but it was too late. Obviously, his loss put a damper on the Blowout Party, but the kind hearted bikers and
readers came forward with something around $500 for Rita when we announced the tragedy. Thanks. As always, y’all’re awesome. Our Chaplain, Al Paquette, came by Trader Jack's that afternoon and said some comforting words to the crowds, and we raised a glass to The Beerman. Pops (right) and B-man were gonna try and stick it out for Bike Week cuz that’s what the Beerman woulda wanted, but they couldn’t go on. I know I could-n’t’ve either. They packed it up and headed home. Boots and I rode to Or-lando on Sunday to give our condolences to Rita, Mike’s wife of thirty-one years, and to give her the cash we’d collected at Trader Jack’s. “Monk, please let the readers know how much I appreciate this!” she said. “It’s completely unexpected, but certainly appreciated!”
After tryin’ to console Rita and offerin’ our sympathy and our hugs, she said, “I can’t believe the son-uvabitch went off and left me after he finally got to live his dream, thanks to Dixie Biker. He was so happy he was being published, he was working for a real magazine. He couldn’t stop talking about it. You have no idea
how happy he was to be a part of the Dixie Biker family. He love you guys.” Well, I’m certainly happy we made the Beerman happy in some way. He certainly touched our lives, and many of y’all’s in more ways I can ever tell you. He was truly one of the all time nice guys and we miss him terribly. No matter how shitty things were goin’, or how crappy you might feel, the Beerman always had a laugh for you, a hug for you or some silly-ass Irish joke. He was just fun to be around. And he made everyone he was around feel better, too.
On Thursday Rita had a viewing for the Beerman, and the funeral was Friday, March 11. Funny, but while we were at his funeral, a traditional Bike Week event he loved to cover was happenin’ at the No Name Saloon - Chocolate Puddin’ Rasslin’. I remember last year he told me the reason he liked it so much was “The contrast of chocolate puddin’ on white skin made exceptional photos.”
“Yeah, right,” I remember laughin’ at him. “You like it for the same reason all of us like it, bro. Scantily clad young ladies sloshin’ around in some wet stuff. If you like the rasslin’ so much, how come you sent so many pictures of the girls rinsin’ off afterwards?!”
Anyhow, at the funeral we got to meet many of Mike’s family, his kids, Rita’s family from Ireland, and many of y’all. Thanks for the outpouring of support. And thanks to Chaplain Al for a great, and moving, ceremony.
Some of the members of Seminole County ABATE at the funeral.
B-Man and Pops
fold Beerman's
beloved flag.
Allen, owner of Central Florida Choppers headin' out to the Handlebar after the service.
Loadin' up after the funeral.
Watchin' the bikes head out to the Handlebar & Grille. That's Beerman's brother, Patrick, with his flag.
We’re gonna miss you Beerman, but we’ll ensure your spirit and memory lives on in the pages of Dixie Biker Illustrated. We’re richer since you were a part of our family, and we’ve lost a piece of our heart and soul since you’ve departed, bro. Hope you’re takin’ pictures of drunk angels, and lookin’ out for those of us still down here.
After the funeral we went to the Handlebar & Grille, one of Mike’s favorite places in the whole world. We tipped a final glass - Icehouse, since they don’t have Guiness - with his family and friends, and bid the Beerman Godspeed.
By the time we got back home to Ormond Beach, I was a wreck. It went down hill from there since I drained a bottle of Patron tequila and got totally hammered. First time I’d been drunk since Bainbridge 2003, I think.
The Beerman. I still don’t believe it. What a loss. Jeez. Fifty-one years old. And just outta the blue. There's nothin' else to say about it. Sometimes life just sucks, but the Beerman woulda wanted us to get suck it up and drive on. Ya gotta keep on keepin' on.
Left - Rita, a daughter-in-law and one of Mike's sons. I apologize for forgettin' your names, but I wasn't at a 100%.
Right - DBI writer, Maria, with Dixie Biker's Chaplain, Al Paquetter and his wife Sharon.
Left - Rita with some of her family in from Ireland for the funeral.
Below - More of the family in from Ireland.
Below - DBI writer, Dave, Kim and Kevin lift one for the Beerman during Bike Week. If he couldn't get Guiness, he drank Ice House.
