Friday:

 

 

I left at noon for Milwaukee.  It rained the last two miles.

 

 

It is always reassuring to see the reliables.

 

 

Cameron limbowed under a flag.  He will be 7 in less than a month.

 

 

Kevin and Tom handled the Wisconsin end.  The state police informed us at the last minute that they would not be able to escort.

 

 

Kevin recruited the sheriff’s airport detail to get us onto I-94 and then led us in the Pledge.

 

 

Eddy is Robert’s second-cousin and he is 3.

 

 

When I was Eddy’s age, I had small a set of small, green plastic soldier-figures that I could arrange in battlefield configurations.  They must have been World War 2 era – I remember one was kneeling and ready to fire a bazooka.

 

My grandson Kevin has a set.  Sometimes we visit the gravesite of Shane Mahaffee who was one of my earliest PGR missions.  We once found that his son had left soldier-figures in the dirt near the marker.  On our next visit, Kevin added a few of his.

 

Eddy has a set.  He was told that they are soldiers “like Bobby”.  Then after, Eddy referred to his set as his “Bobbies”.

 

Cameron and Eddy attempted to fill the storm sewer one handful of grass at a time.

 

 

And then we were off.  We had a light rain the entire distance.  Shortly after we crossed into Illinois we entered a weigh-station where some of us would turn back.  We gained far more than we lost.

 

 

I heard that Robert’s mother was affected by the sight of so many additional riders standing in the rain, saluting.

 

 

Then we moved on to Wauconda.  The Lake County Sheriff had all of the signaled intersections guarded.  The trip along 176 was stirring – cars in both directions pulled onto the shoulders and bikes rode on both sides of the road.

 

The Friday evening rush-hour was suspended for our procession.

 

 

We formed at the door of the funeral home and then the moment came for me.

 

It seems every mission has a moment that takes me by surprise and reminds me of what we are.  This time, for me, it was the unloading of the remains.

 

Kevin had said something about “lower extremities” but I wasn’t prepared.  The box was about 18 inches wide, 14 inches high and 22 inches long.  It was the size of a casket for a stillborn.  It was carried into the building with the family following.

 

 

And then we packed-up.

 

 

Mark and Cyndi managed the flags and the parking at both the weigh station and the funeral home.

 

 

And Mark coordinated closely with the sheriff.

 

Sheriff Curran, this deputy’s cell phone bill will be a little high this month, but it is okay to pay.

 

 

And then Cameron went home.

 

 

As did we all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Saturday:

 

 

We returned to the cemetery where we had gathered for Robert’s interment five months ago.  The casket had been removed to the funeral home where its contents had been made more complete, and now we would stand as it was re-interred.  The family did not call this event a second funeral – it was Robert’s “homecoming”.

 

In fact, the reason for the long delay was a wait for the return of all Company D from Afghanistan.  The family hoped that the other soldiers would rendezvous at the Weinger home for a luau, complete with pig roast.  The family would celebrate Robert and his mission and his comrades and that was both wise and generous.

 

Most of the PGRiders would not attend the luau.  We would approach this KIA mission with solemnity and then quietly withdraw.

 

 

 

 

Mark handled the briefing well.  While we were all PGRiders for the next half-hour, many of us had other affiliations which he acknowledged – Christian Motorcycle Association, American Legion Riders and Jon D’s Warriors’ Watch among them.

 

I especially appreciated his instruction that we not disassemble our flags until we had moved away from the grave.  He didn’t suggest or plead; nor did he order.  He simply told us what he wanted us to do without any rhetorical excess.  He has the confidence of a natural leader.  Not all ride captains are do.

 

Cyndi carried their two flags from the briefing.

 

 

We first formed flaglines along the cemetery lanes and waited as the guests arrived.

 

 

Our formation lined the paved route to the grave, but not the shortest route.  In such circumstances, people often avoid walking among us.  Colonel Haerr understood that he honors us walking between our ranks.

 

 

We moved from the lane to the field and formed a “Circle of Comfort” as Henry Lange coined the term at Onalaska.  There was no rifle salute, but there was singing and eulogizing.

 

 

We also produced the best bugled Taps I have ever heard.

 

 

And then Colonel Haerr presented a folded flag to Robert’s brother.

 

 

Throughout the ceremony, three soldiers dressed in the new army blues were posted about the casket.  They acquitted themselves well.

 

 

 

 

And so, for the second time, my big flag flew all the way from that Wauconda cemetery back to my home.

 

 

When Mark told me about this mission, his phrase was “additional remains have been recovered”, a phrase that caused me dread.  In retrospect, those additional remains were put to very good use.

 

 

 

 

 

 

        two photo albums:

 

        escort from airport

 

        circle of comfort

 

 

 

 

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