Kevin (grandson) is busy with kindergarten so I would be traveling to Madison alone, and because I would be alone I would go on the bike.  But the funeral Wednesday was a little early in the day to make the trip that same morning, plus rain was expected:  I would stay the previous night and attend the visitation Tuesday.

 

I dropped my gear at the Americinn and was among the first to arrive at the funeral home – but not before Kevin Loecher had a line of flags along the street, so it was easy to find.  When the bold display of red, white and blue came into view I had to smile.  I knew that every arriving PGRider would feel a reaffirmed commitment to mission as he rolled into the parking lot and that the passing cars would honk throughout the afternoon and evening.

 

Certainly passing cars and the mourners entering the building could ignore the flags.  We all move past many flags each day without being moved to emotion.  It is the fact that individuals are standing with the flags, making an endorsement with their bodies, that makes the powerful statement.  Conversely, a group of people standing respectfully without flags is ambiguous.  Kevin’s bold display and the American patriots who would stand alongside combine to communicate our message of honor for the soldier and respect for her values.

 

So it was fitting that we began with the Pledge of Allegiance.  (I was using a long lens and got neither the entire width of our group nor the entire height of the flagpole.)  It is a pledge my grandson learned early in school, as did most of us.  In a world that is often dangerous and cruel beyond our borders, it is an affirmation of loyalty to “the republic for which (our flag) stands” and the culture of the republic, including “liberty and justice for all.”

 

It is a simple statement.  It says that we know which side we are on.

 

 

In wartime, moral clarity is essential.  We know which side we are on.

 

There is nothing exclusive about the Patriot Guard.  You are a Republican, or a Packer fan, or a PGRider simply because you say you are.  Being a veteran is different.  A non-vet can say he is a patriot, but only the vet has proven it.  I haven’t proven it and I am thrilled to stand as an apparent equal with men like Don Moss.

 

 

At least I think it was Don.  Could be John Wayne.  There are a lot of JW faces among vets.

 

 

JW was certainly the icon of moral clarity.  He knew who the bad guys were and he knew which side he was on.  If you are about to attempt something that is difficult and dangerous, you want a JW figure to stand with you and reassure you that you are doing the right thing.

 

Rachael had that in her CSM, Command Sergeant Major John Vacho.  He has a car with two messages on his license plate.  The big one is spelled-out.  The little gold star is the other one.  Seventeen months ago, Sergeant Major Vacho’s son Nathan died during combat operations in Baghdad.  The CSM told me how the PGR stood for him.  And now he and we would stand for Rachael.

 

 

I am sometimes asked “what I did” and reply that I was in college until 1973.  Most people who would ask would know that Vietnam was waning by then, and that is all I offer as explanation.  When John Vacho asked me and I gave my reply he smiled and said that he was in high school until 1971.

 

He didn’t mean anything by it, but in that moment I knew that, of the two of us, it was his life that had served the cause of liberty and justice for all, and not mine.

 

 

Brigadier General Robert Hipwell was Rachael’s commander.  Like Don and John, Robert has one of those JW faces that is so reassuring.  After he had gone up and down our flagline he then turned to me.  We spoke for just a minute but in that time he made me feel like an old friend.

 

 

He had enlisted and fought with the 75th Ranger Regiment in Vietnam from ’69 till ’72 where he received field promotions to officer.  He then followed the quieter life of a reservist, picking up a bachelor’s degree in engineering, a master’s degree in finance and a doctorate in international studies along the way.  Then, in November of 2001, he was called back to active duty.  A year in Kuwait was followed by a year in Iraq which was followed by a year in Afghanistan where he earned a Purple Heart.

 

Plus, he has five soldier-sons:  Philip, Mathew, Tim, Adam and David.  God bless you, General.

 

 

This group held many exceptional individuals.  We had all gathered for Rachael:  Patriot Guard, U.S. Army, veterans.  It was no disrespect to Rachel that we were glad to meet each other.  

 

 

Dennis and Joyce Jansen are among the Wisconsin reliables.  They did not die in battle but they have given their lives to this “one nation, under God” and they continue to give.

 

 

And some gave all.  Greg was there.  His hat was hanging from a flagpole.  There was no particular attention focused on it – as we say, it’s not about us.  He was not a veteran but his nephew, Timothy Noble Bowman, served in Iraq.  Tim returned to Illinois but sadly did not survive his experience.

 

And more:  Four days after Rachael’s funeral, Greg’s brother Jeff was one of the 61 bikes that would escort PGRider Ron Harris to his final resting place.  On his way home, Jeff would be struck by a vehicle.  At this writing (the next day) he is said to be in “grave condition”.  I imagine our friends at Westboro will have some comment.

 

I was standing in the flagline facing the flagpole that holds Greg’s hat when I saw Jeff DeVries walking near it.  As he approached, he pulled his own hat off his head.  After he passed, he pushed it back on his head.  He never dared to look over at Greg’s.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

        ~~~

 

 

 

 

 

 

The next morning I had Raisin Bran in the hotel’s breakfast area and went outside to see the weather, the bikes and the people.  SFC Davidson told us that she had considered naming her son Harley.

 

 

Robin and I climbed to the top of the tower at Holy Hill last year on October 9th.  From that record, I know that the foliage was much more colorful then than it is this year in late October.  Still, some color has presented.  We arrived at Immaculate Heart of Mary.

 

 

State Captain Curran was the Ride Captain.  I hope we didn’t scratch-up John’s Lexus.

 

 

Kevin got out his big flag.

 

 

I had mine out too.

 

 

The pallbearers lined up at on the sidewalk south of the place the hearse would stop.

 

 

Master Sergeant Devine positioned himself north of that place.

 

 

Then Rachael arrived and they carried her inside.  We stood for the other arrivals.  When the service began, we waited under the colorful autumn display.

 

 

We assembled for another briefing and then reassembled in front of the church.  Then we would ride the short way to the cemetery.

 

It seems that every mission has moments that are especially meaningful for me.  They are not the same for others and I can’t anticipate them.  This time it was when Rachael was carried to the hearse.

 

I never even saw the casket.  I was standing across the street from the church.  This was not a time for photos but I didn’t have a flag, so I simply stood in line with other PGRiders.  The bagpiper marched directly toward me.  Then he turned his back to me.  He was playing and marching all the while.  Now he was playing as he marched in place.

 

Then he stopped marching but continued playing for a time.  He was wearing the full dress with a kilt and a dagger in his sock.  Then he started marching in place again.  And then he turned and marched away.  He never stopped playing.  I had seen it all before.  I don’t know why it was a big deal this time, but I wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

 

 

At the cemetery we formed a Circle of Comfort and stood silently.  General Hipwell got down on one knee to present the parents with the casket flag.  CSM Vacho called a role.  Each soldier responded, “Present, Sergeant Major!”

 

When he got to Hugo there was no response.  He called for Rachael Hugo.  Still nothing.

 

“Corporal Rachael L. Hugo?!”

 

Silence.

 

 

Governor Jim Doyle and Attorney General J.B. VanHollen were there.  88 bikes from four states were there.

 

 

15 white doves were there.

 

 

And then it was over and we left.

 

 

The threat of rain had never materialized either day and there was more color at the cemetery than just our flags.

 

 

And Rachael’s place of final rest became quiet except for a few members of the family who were reluctant to leave.  It is all right that they remained and it is all right that the rest of us left.  Especially the soldiers.  It is a sad duty for them and they cannot be faulted for moving out when their duty is done.

 

The family stood nearby Rachael and talked.  The guests had gone.  The Governor and Attorney General had gone.  The bikes and doves had gone.  The only sounds were the soft talking of the family and the wind through the leaves.

 

But the Army had not gone.  MSG Devine had the pallbearers and the firing squad facing each other across the lane that the family would use to leave.  I waited for a while, but then I left too.  The family was still talking at Rachael’s grave and the soldiers were still standing at attention, silently waiting.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Five albums:

 

pictures from the Tuesday visitation

 

Wednesday pictures – staging

 

Wednesday pictures – before the service

 

Wednesday pictures – during and after

 

Wednesday pictures – cemetery