Another PGR Funeral Ride

Randy and I went to another funeral of a fallen soldier with the PGR (Patriot Guard Riders http://patriotguard.org/ ). He was 31 years old. He had a wife, a three year old son, and an nine year old daughter. There were 150 of us. We formed a human barrier around the funeral home with our 3'x5' American flags on 8 foot tall poles. And yes, the Westboro Baptist Church and their infamous leader, Reverend Phelps, were there. They were not protesting the war, only the fact that our government is tolerant of homosexuality in the armed forces. The new law is, they must stay 500 feet away and can only protest the funeral 1 hour before it starts and 1 hour after it starts. All businesses surrounding the funeral home had security to block the crazies from protesting on their property.

They stayed there on a median in the street for the full 2 hours. There were about 15 of them. Men, women, and children holding their signs that read, “GOD HATES FAGS, FAGS HATE GOD, AIDS CURES FAGS, THANK GOD FOR AIDS, FAGS BURN IN HELL, FAGS ARE NATURE FREAKS, GOD GAVE FAGS UP, NO SPECIAL LAWS FOR FAGS”, and a new one, “SOLDIERS ARE FAGS.” It broke my heart. The adults stand in the center with the children surrounding them. They were singing a song to the melody of “As the Casons (spelling?) Go Rolling Along”. I can't remember all the words, but they were singing words like, as the fag soldiers' arms, legs are thrown in the air from explosions...I don't know, I had to go to another place in my head to block them out. The guard pulled 30 of us to form 3 lines deep about 50 feet in front of them so the family could not see them. We totally blocked them from their view. Vehicles were driving by flipping the protesters off, laying scratch in front of them and so on. They finally left.

We all road to the grave sight and gathered in a U shape around the tent. There was a 21 gun solute and the ritual of the folding of the flag. The soldiers, men and women, as soldiers do, stood strong with complete emotionless faces at attention. I know they had to go somewhere else in their head as I did. I was standing way to close to the family. The mother and her daughter were sobbing. I was standing there trying to hold back tears. I looked at the trees, the clouds, tried to think of other things. I held my flag in front of my face hoping no one would notice the tears that finally came rolling down my face. I finally composed myself when the 9 year old daughter came a shook our hands and thanked us for being there. It took everything I had not to let go the pain and empathy I felt. I will never stand so close again. However, after it was all over, I felt as if I did a good thing. I enjoyed the ride and all of my fellow riders.

A phenomenal poet and fellow blogger, Sir James E. Watkins wrote a poem that truly fit the entire experience, the war, the protesters... A poem called “Listen”. He posted it on 08/04/06. Check it out. It helped me through... http://endlesssaga.blogspot.com/2006_08_01_endlesssaga_archive.html

Now, on a lighter note....There was a business close by. The building was probably about 15 stories tall. Apparently the president of the company watched everything from his window. He came over and invited all of us to his employee cafeteria for lunch. Randy arrived late because he was one of the riders who escorted the mourning family to a restaurant they were all meeting. He also escorted the hearst to the grave sight. My husband exudes strength. He is always chosen to do special duty.

I only took a few photos at the staging area before the ride...If they don't upload, I will post them later.