Kevin and I were among the first to the funeral home.  We were both in Cub Scout attire.  Then Bill Lee arrived in his uniform.

 

 

The family arrived early too.  I just barely had time to hand Kevin an assembled flag and send him running across the grass to precede them to the door.  A moment later the rest of us joined him.

 

 

We didn’t talk – neither of us was there to socialize – but I had heard about Bill and I found his website.  I’ll be voting for him.

 

 

Each of us has our own reasons for standing.  We have diverse opinions about where we go from here.  We don’t think alike.  Americans don’t.

 

But for a short time we are united in one effort:  We are proud of Matthew and grateful for his courage.

 

 

We will vote tomorrow.  We will pay taxes tomorrow.  We will build new weapons systems tomorrow.  It is the voting and the taxes and the weapons of the past that placed Matthew in a dusty Afghanistan street.  He died for us and we will never be able to repay him.

 

 

It would be a six-hour visitation – a long one.  Kevin and I would stay for an hour and then I had to take him home so he could keep other commitments.  Then I would return.

 

When I tell him that we are going flag-holding, he knows not to object even though it is not as much fun as some alternatives available to him.  He knows it’s important because I have said so.

 

I hope he will reach that same conclusion on his own when he is older.

 

 

In September, 2007 two years ago at another visitation, Ro put Kevin in charge of the cooler.  He has taken charge of the bottled water ever since.

 

 

The Commander and her Executive Officer review their troops.

 

 

We didn’t have a Cub Scout function.  I felt it was a place and time for uniforms so I gave him a choice:  Tae kwon do, army or Cubs.

 

 

He chose Cubs so I wore my Den Leader shirt as you can see in the reflection.

 

 

Another group of soldiers gathered in the parking lot.  They serve with Matthew’s brother Travis.  It was not the expectation of rain that had them wearing umbrellas on their heads – they are drill sergeants.  I explained to Kevin that the army picks the very best soldiers to use as examples for the new soldiers.

 

It is with a sense of humility that I post our photos next to theirs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I drove Kevin home, changed my clothes, traded the truck for the bike and returned.  Rush hour traffic and rain delayed me.  When I made it back I learned the Governor Quinn had attended the wake because he was unable to attend the funeral, and I missed him.

 

The last soldier pictured above is Drill Sergeant Cote.  I took it after dark and you can see the rain on his umbrel…his cover.  I met his father in East Peoria three months ago.  The sergeant said his father would make the 170-mile trip and take a room so that he could stand at the funeral the next day.

 

 

 

 

 

On album of photography.

 

 

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