This is a photo of a fender of a car; a police car in Freeport where I was visiting for the day.

I would date the conflict between western civilization and Islamofascism from the fall of the Shah of Iran. Some would date it as far back as Muhammad (c. 570 – June 8, 632), but most date it only to September 11^th. It is a date that doesn’t require a year.

Norman Cain died seven and a half years after September 11^th.

Specialist Cain was the driver for his team when they encountered the roadside bomb, but he was not old enough for even a learner’s permit on September 11^th.

Of course there are good reasons that those of us who were 22 years old during the Vietnam conflict are not now driving HMMWVs in Afghanistan. Still, we know how to show respect for those who do.

There is a designated “Ride Captain” for every PGR mission. For Norman there was Mike. His son Tim was, like Norman, Illinois Army National Guard and died at the same age as Norman.

Mike’s mom and Dad – Tim’s grandparents – were also in town to honor Norman.

The army sends an escort along with the KIA soldier on his trip home, as we saw in Taking Chance. The army designates a “casualty assistance officer” to help the family coordinate details. And the army sends a general officer to present the casket flag to the family at graveside. Bill Enyart will make three such presentations this weekend.

And this young Lieutenant would attend all three, too. He is not much older than Norman. From his insignia we learn of the schools he has mastered: Airborne, Air Assault, Ranger. From his ribbons we learn of his ferocity and dedication. And from his face we learn of his compassion.

He may lead a regiment into battle ten years from now. If he does, he will carry the memory of Norman Cain with him.

We PGRiders stood with our flags in front of the Freeport High School gymnasium. People walked past our flags to go inside. Friends of Norman, friends of his parents, friends of Company D. Officials, neighbors, veterans.

This group held their salute as they walked past our flags.

I would later stand opposite those Korean War veterans behind the North Grove Christian Church – Norman’s grave was between us. I had the whole ceremony to study them. Those bright blue jackets were utterly motionless the entire time, at strict attention.

We already had our flags displayed while the gravel farm road that led to the tiny cemetery was still lined with idling cars trying to join us. The slight rise allowed grand vistas. It must be a very quiet place most of the time. This day, however, was gridlock.

I didn’t take any pictures during the ceremony, but it was beautiful. There were many guests surrounding the family and there were several groups like the Korean Wars vets standing nearby. The several army details were immaculate and well-rehearsed. The Patriot Guard surrounded the whole, one flag per rider. A steady breeze kept Old Glory flying high.

Amid it all was Mike Bowman, managing the PGRiders to honor the fallen guardsman.

Because, as his front fender attests, he has one foot in each of those worlds.

In Loving Memory of Norman Cain, Forever In Our Hearts.

In the early hours of the morning, the bike flag had been in the saddle bag. The mast was up and it gave the bike an odd appearance. But, of course, no one could see it before the sun rose.

It was now a bright afternoon. I would use country roads for the 100-mile return trip. And the flag would remain at the top of the mast.

back to the three funerals of Company D