The dream of 1960’s America for most was just that—a dream. White picket fence, car, dog, two kids and a steady job. Good old Americana.

But for the Vandals, and all its members—they knew the truth. There was nothing that compared to the true freedom that came from the wide open roads of the Midwestern United States.

All they needed was their bikes, and each other. They had family with each other that society didn’t offer them otherwise.

One fateful summer, they traversed through a small sleepy town and essentially took over. That’s where Johnny met you. You were waitressing in the local diner when they all came barging in.

He noticed you immediately because of the yellow uniform—it made you look like sunshine. He watched from a corner booth, arm slung on the back, cigarette dangling from his lips, as you serviced his men and their gals with a quiet and sweet attitude. It caught his eye.