I left the high school before the service ended.  I traveled back through that open stretch.  On an impulse, I grabbed the camera and got this photo as I passed without stopping.

 

I had driven past this flag several times and its stark assertion caught my attention each time.  From the way it was fastened I think it is a permanent display and not placed there just for the funeral.  There was nothing else around – just the spacious plains of Illinois.  I like it a lot.

 

 

When I reached Westville, just south of Danville, students were beginning to line the sidewalks.

 

 

Catholics are often good soldiers and always good patriots.

 

 

Another high school turned out for Ken.

 

 

All the Westville schools were out at street-side.

 

 

And many other folks, too.

 

 

I found my place on a bridge.  My plan was to show the flag, take some pictures and then follow the procession to the cemetery.

 

Soon, a sailor joined me.

 

 

Linda Martin was on her way to pick-up a friend from the hospital.  She stopped when she saw us and brought the only flag she had.  It is one made by another parishioner at Holy Family Church for the antenna of cars.  When they get dirty, she makes replacements.

 

As Linda approached the two of us, pleased and proud she said, “They don’t know how many of us there are.”

 

 

Linda’s father and uncle served.  The three of us waited together a long time.  The procession never traveled at highway speeds – they moved at 15 MPH the whole way – so I was earlier to my bridge than I realized.

 

When I first crossed the bridge I saw flashing lights approaching so I hurried to get into position.  It turned out to be the LEO escort for the army detail.  They had finished at the high school and were moving to the cemetery.  That is how I came to be on that bridge without securing my flag and without gloves.  It was windy and cold.  I had to hold the bottom corner of the flag to keep it from sliding up the pole.  The flag was 5 by 8 and pulled forcefully.  I thought about risking a run to my car.

 

Linda was thinking about her friend waiting at the hospital.  She said, “I hate to quit.  Sergeant Nichols didn’t.”

 

So that was that – I would hold my place.  Soon they appeared.  And then the miracle.

 

Well, okay, not a miracle.  Still, when I saw traffic stopping on the other side of Interstate Highway 74, all I could saw was, “Look at that!”

 

My two partners said nothing.  I glanced over at them – they had tears in their eyes.  Nothing more was said.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I didn’t photograph the many cars in procession, but there were miles of them.  The cars and trucks on the far side of the highway remained stationary for them all to pass.

 

 

And then I was made aware of how quiet it had been as the engines all started to pull again.

 

I trailed the procession by a few cars.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

By the time I got to the cemetery, everyone else was in place.

 

 

First came the military honors.

 

 

 

 

 

And then the PGR honors.

 

 

 

 

 

Ken 3:  You don’t have to be a soldier.  But your father and his father expect you to be a good citizen.  234 years of American history are behind us and America’s future is in your hands.

 

 

Your father and his father are examples for us all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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