On the day of Crispy's funeral, I dropped Kevin and his racecar off at the cub scout church in Lake Bluff.

On the way I stopped for this photo.  Lake Michigan was covered with a dense, ground-level cloud mass.

These two were the first soldiers I would photograph this sad day, and later they would be the last ones.

The SFC has nearly 30 years in.  The specialist dropped something and bokeh obscurred the snowpile in the forground.

And then this.  The service would be "closed-casket" because of the manner of death.

The folded flags would be the tangible representation of a soldier who would never be seen again.

The Master Sergeant above and the Sergeant Major below are also three decades in.

This is the father of the commander of he 713. 

And this is the soldier in the truck following right behind Crispy on that terrible day.

And then there were the spiritual faces:

Faces that remind us of the heart of this gently warrior.

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