More vehicles, with emergency lights flashing, bounced over the rail road tracks toward my position. Many mourners waved at the riders on their horses, some raised a hand of thanks to me. Emotion was building up in my chest.
I was there for them, and they knew it. Not only me, but hundreds of people were doing the same thing—for the
same reason. I timidly waved back and one woman in the passenger seat of a car took a picture of me. A picture of
me? For some reason I was taken aback. But perhaps a lone woman, standing on the side of the road with a large
flag streaming behind her was a sight even after seeing all the folks along Highway 377 from Mansfield to Dublin.
There were upwards of thirty vehicles in the procession, for which I was glad. The length of a funeral procession
seems to be a gauge of how well liked the departed was in life. When the last police car passed by, I turned to look
the way they had gone. The wind swirled, causing my flag to wrap around my head and body, blinding my view. I
froze. Standing in the daylight with red and white stripes surrounding me, something odd happened. I thought of
my tough but gentle father, lying in his flag draped coffin, and how he may have tried to look out at the world of
which he was no longer a part, but could not. How Jesse, a young man I never knew, was now lying under such a
flag in the back of that hearse. I thought of how very sad it all was and fought the tears.
Carefully rolling the flag back up onto its pole I gathered my things and walked across the street. A Highway Patrolman was driving back into town, having reached the county line and the end of his jurisdiction, I suppose. He
saluted me and I nodded in acknowledgement. The flag was returned then I gathered my friend into a hug knowing she has a son in the military. She said hesitantly, “It’s hard, isn’t it?” My tears finally fell as I whispered, “I can’t
imagine how you feel.” She held me tighter and said, “But my baby’s home safe, now...he’s home.”
Tonight, Jesse is back at the one place he considered home. May his spirit live on through his son, may the soldiers
who have gone before him take him into their heavenly company. May we always remember there are those who
fight and die for freedom and justice. Well done, Jesse, well done.
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