There is a guy at O’Hare who explodes “bangers” at the end of the runway near the Signature facility to keep birds away from the jet engines as they lift the aircraft into the sky. All day. They sound like shotgun blasts. I got to Signature early and listened to the bangers as I waited.

Frederik Vazquez, son of Juan and Rubelia, Lance Corporal, 1^st Battalion of the 2^nd Marines, killed in Afghanistan, was to arrive at the Signature Flight Support facility of O’Hare. Hank Mook is the Signature manager. He is also the Command Chief Master Sergeant of the 181^st Intelligence Wing, so he took a special interest in Frederik’s arrival.

Matt and Hank exchanged coins.

And then they turned their focus to their special shared interest.

The rest of us have come to do whatever we are told to do.

There is that moment, about an hour and a quarter in, when Lt. Dougherty (Gandolfini) says to Capt. Ramsey (Hackman), “Give me an order, Sir.”

It is always a great pleasure for me to be among people who gather simply to honor the sacrifice of another. I was very glad to see David.

And Judy.

The Sergeant Major understands and appreciates our willingness.

As does the Lieutenant Colonel. They would both be supportive and encouraging over the next few days.

Frank provided a small bus and two pick-ups to transport us onto the tarmac. In the time before the jet arrived, the SgtMaj and the LtCol went down our line.

Good guys wear the white hats. Master Sergeant Robinson is the third white hat. He was the Casualty Assistance Officer – the one designated to help the family through this horrible process. He must get decisions from the family at the worst time of their lives. His job was complicated because the mother and some others speak only Spanish. MSgt Robinson said he feels like a car salesman when he displays photos of different caskets and pushes for a choice.

The mist made the first segment of a rainbow.

Firefighters and other O’Hare people came to stand.

As did we.

From my place in the flagline, I could see deeper into the fuselage that the family could. When I saw the first bit of red and white stripes sliding toward the aircraft door, I looked over at Frederik’s mother.

These many people were standing around her and the aircraft had moved through an arc of water. The three white hats were standing nearby and they were not smiling. The escort Marine was standing near the aircraft and the detail of Marines that would carry the casket to the waiting hearse was standing next to her.

But it was just a lot of people, standing. Maybe the translation was jumbled. Maybe the pilot would appear in the door with a big smile and announce that it had all been a mistake. There was still that possibility.

Then she saw the bit of red and white stripes covering Frederik’s casket appear in the door of the aircraft and that final possibility was extinguished. All the air came out of her lungs. Her shoulders rolled forward. I think she was able to remain standing because all of us remained standing. In that moment, we held her up.

Then we led Frederik and his family five miles down Mannheim Road.

The funeral home is just east of Mannheim on Grand, another busy road. You can see how exposed the transfer would have been if there were no flag-holders defining a protective wall.

The flag is at half, the LEOs are nearby, the hearse and Marines are concealed. Ominously, a traffic horse stands beside the sidewalk.

We were in uniform. Not in our clothes, but in our demeanor.

And then, before the maw of the hearse, the SgtMaj said a few things that we were glad to hear.

And then we were done for this day.

Frederik was safely inside. Family and Marines attended to him now. We left.

on to Frederik’s visitation

back to the Frederik Vazquez Mission

back to ALL MISSIONS