David Schultz was on the fast track. He died a First Lieutenant only because he ran out of time. He was nearly made Captain at the age of 25. Wisely, the Army promoted him posthumously. In the picture below, Major Todd Plotner stands before our fallen hero during the change-of-rank ceremony that was conducted in the middle of the funeral service.

It was poetic that Todd was there for David. He too is on a fast track. MAJ Plotner is soon to become the Rear Detachment Commander for the 82^nd Division. He is a West Point graduate and a Ranger. An hour after he conducted the promotion ceremony, a few of us had the good fortune to share lunch with him. For me, it was better than lunch with Eli Manning.

David Schultz and Todd Plotner are better than the rest of us. We are lifted from our petty struggles by their fine examples. I am enriched from my short meeting with Todd. I regret I will never meet David. This is what happened when I attended David’s funeral.

~~~

The overnight temperatures had been below zero and would not rise above single digits all day. We had just had snowfall and more was expected soon. The sky was overcast; the day was bleak. The church flag was at half-mast.

The flagpole was in front of the church. We parked in the rear. A neighbor’s garage door faced the parking lot.

The garage door flag has been vandalized. Someone spray-painted a black “P” on the canton. My thoughts briefly turned to the Code Pink people who making trouble for the Marines in Berkeley at the very moment we were assembling in Blue Island.

Of course, we have our own thorn. Our friends from Westboro said they would picket David’s funeral. Their threat was credible because they were in town two days earlier (Saturday) to picket two of the funerals resulting from the Lane Bryant shootings.

The police provided a place for them on a dead-end road, down a hill from the church. We lined-up at the top of the hill, spreading across that road.

This would have been their view, had they made good their threat. Instead, this Blue Island cop had no company.

A few of his colleagues assembled at the top of the hill, though. David’s father is one of the top police officers for the Blue Island department. Many surrounding departments were represented as well.

Then, the body arrived. Pallbearers from the 504^th Regiment carried David into the Lutheran Church. The police held their formation. We did too, the best we could.

As did some neighbors.

Loren DeRusha, aka Pop, moved us inside for coffee. Later we would line the street for the hearse and family to pass between as they left for the funeral home where the visitation would take place.

Yes, that is the reverse of the usual sequence. David would not be buried in this area. The next day, we would escort him to Galena in the northwest corner of our state where his wife was raised. There would be a second funeral there the following day. The Governor had ordered Illinois flags half-masted for all three days.

So the Patriot Guard would serve at the funeral and visitation on Monday, escort from Lake Michigan to the Mississippi River on Tuesday, and then serve at the funeral and burial on Wednesday. Thanks to guys like Pop, it would all work-out just fine.

After we dispatched the procession, we raced it the mile to the funeral home. Most of us were in position before it reached our mutual destination. I was not among them. Taking pictures, I was late to leave and then had difficulty finding my way. Finally I parked in the area I thought to be right which was confirmed by the middle of the procession stalled in the street nearby. I ran forward and noticed a Blue Island police officer on the other side of the line of cars. I went over to her.

“Do you know that you just cut through a funeral procession?”

Respect was being strictly enforced in Blue Island today. I was able to confirm the location of the funeral home and take my leave of her before she pulled out her handcuffs. I got to our flagline before it disbanded.

I was glad I did, but I was also glad to see the police reminding a guy holding a camera and running between the cars of the courtesy due Captain Schultz. If you are reading this, officer: You were right; I was wrong.

A detail would remain for the six-hour visitation. Pop would be among them. The 504^th had a paratrooper at the head and another at the foot of the casket the whole time. The cops maintained a presence in the area. Including this one who’s 20 year-old married son is in the Air Force.

Before I left, I had the pleasure to meet David’s paternal uncle who was Air Force/Marines and was in Vietnam intermittently from ’65 till ’75. Yes, ’75.

Some families do more than other families. When we are thanked for standing with our flags, we often reply that “it is our honor to be invited”. And it really is. On a Monday of single-digit temperatures, my life intersected with David Schultz. It was a great honor for me.

Photography from Monday in two albums:

http://news.webshots.com/album/562453485DHIMjT

http://news.webshots.com/album/562453202elbdFW

back to ALL MISSIONS

Update, Wednesday afternoon.

I got Kevin from Kindergarten at the usual time. I was early, so I had a few minutes to sit in the truck and notice the flag in front of the Lake Bluff East School. Other parents arrived and sat in their idling vehicles. Then the kindergarteners came running out and we all walked toward them. It turns out that I wasn’t the only one who knew why the flag was flying at half-staff – Kevin knew too.

Then we went home and experimented with his bicycle on the driveway ice.