Mid-morning Monday, we returned to the funeral home.  The army transferred Ken to the hearse and then the Patriot Guard led the procession through town.

 

 

Ken’s sister Cindy – the one from Georgia – rode with the Ride Captain on the lead bike.

 

 

I had positioned myself just across the street from the departure point and then hustled back to my car to fit into the procession.  We would travel through Danville and then farther south to the high school auditorium Ken had walked as a student ten years ago.

 

The signs say Danville has a population of 34 thousand, but that was small enough that everyone recognized our procession and felt loss.  These are two of the many people who stopped their cars, got out and rendered a civilian salute.

 

 

 

It was a Monday, a workday, and business was being conducted.  Not everyone got out of their car but the streets emptied at our approach.  The few vehicles that remained were stationary.

 

 

It’s not everyday that a true American hero passes by.

 

 

South of Danville but north of Georgetown there are a few miles of open farmland.  Different landscape; same respectful behavior.

 

 

I’m glad I was able to get a focus on these two as I drove past.  What an elegant image they made!  They stopped.  They got out.  They stood side-by-side.  They placed their hands over their hearts.

 

It wouldn’t be as meaningful if everyone were required to do it.  But it is a powerful statement when anyone volunteers to do it.

 

 

“The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots….”  -Thomas Jefferson

 

 

We reached the high school and formed-up at the entrance.

 

 

A guest with the heart of a PGRider unfurled.

 

 

Many people walked down our flagline.  It was good the school made the auditorium available.  It was good they loaned 30 students and a bus to help Larry.

 

 

And it was good that their band participated.

 

 

The American Legion stood as a silent welcome for the guests as they arrived.

 

 

The family members and friends who would speak in the auditorium prepared themselves.

 

 

The presiding general hid any anxiety.

 

 

The Ride Captain’s job was done for the moment and he felt the weight of the mission.

 

 

Outside, the channel 15 videographer was diligent in her efforts.

 

 

She found a dramatic angle to show the high school’s half-staffed flag.

 

Nearby was a short brick wall with a single brass plague placed there 33 years ago.  Ken read that plaque.

 

 

1776 was two centuries earlier.

 

 

The liberty, opportunity and justice of America were not given to Americans by a judge.

 

 

They were not awarded by an international agreement.

 

 

They were earned by American soldiers.

 

 

The many emergency vehicles came with personnel.

 

 

They took advantage of our flagline to fine their places in it.

 

 

And we were there.  Patriot Guard Riders from Illinois and Indiana and Georgia.

 

 

Most of us were local, but there are local PGRiders everywhere.  Every soldier can know that his hometown will collect a dozen or more, should the need arise, no matter how rural and no matter what season.  These are the faces of a few of us but there are many more who stood in spirit in front of that high school that Monday.

 

…because you were there for us, Ken.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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