My birthday…

Was spent doing something that I wish I could do more often. Don’t get me wrong here, I wish that no more soldiers had to die protecting our freedoms. Yet, this is a fact of life anytime there is a war. What I wish I could do more often is honor those soldiers who paid the ultimate sacrifice for their country.

Many have said, “I am sorry you had to spend your birthday at a funeral”. I am not sorry, what-so-ever. I just wish that all of you could have been there with me so you could understand why spending my day this way was what I wanted needed to do. I will humbly try to put this into words instead so you might get an inkling of what I and all the others that were with me felt yesterday.

It started with my alarm clock. Instead of the usual groan and hitting the snooze, I instantly got up with a smile and a sense of purpose. That in itself is quite the rarity these days.

A sense of purpose.

A need to be somewhere for someone else. A need to show his family that I cared that he made the ultimate sacrifice for his country. I was going to honor this fallen hero who paid the price of his life for our freedoms.

We arrived at the first staging area at 7:20 am and filled my tank, cleaned windows and then parked my cage (Jeep) to wait on more to arrive. We chatted with several of the vets and mentors. We met vets who served in many wars and one who is current active duty.

It was kick stands up at 7:45 and the roar of approximately 10 motorcycles filled the air with their familiar rumble. They pulled out ahead of us and we followed right behind them. Two buildings over another 20 followed out right behind us. We drove to the main staging area in Canton, GA to see many others already there ahead of us. They were already parked in two rows, side by side, in anticipation of KSU at 8:30, but that time was a while off still.

We chatted with more Vets and made more instant friends. Somewhere in the sea of motorcycles sitting 2 by 2 was a man that lives directly behind us in our very own neighborhood. We watched in awe at the amount of people there to honor this man who had passed on protecting us. More and more groups and individuals arrived to add to the well organized mayhem of motorcycles and people. The local sheriff and police departments arrived to escort us to the funeral home.

At 8am the newbies were mentored in what was expected of them during the day. There were approximately 30 new riders there on their first missions.

My first tears fell when the crowd was asked if any were Vietnam Vets. Many raised their hands. They were given a round of applause. They were then asked if any were not given a proper welcome home. several raised their hands again. Their hands were shaken and/or hugs were given, applause rang and they were properly thanked for their service.

My second sniffles occurred when we were attending the final instructions meeting and the wife of the fallen soldier arrived to personally thank us for coming to honor her husband. There was not a dry eye in the crowd. She thanked us… but it was we who were thanking her as we were honored to be there.

KSU at approximately 8:45am. Now it wasn’t just a roar of engines but the ground trembled with the thunder of motorcycles. It was amazing to be amongst so many past and present service men and women. As we pulled out of the staging area I saw people standing on the side of the road with flags. Cars were stopped to let us pass on both sides of the road.

We arrived at the funeral home at approx 9 or 9:30am. We all gathered our flags and found places in the flag line in front of the funeral home. By this time – time was of no consequence. It no longer mattered. We were all there with that same sense of purpose. There were all faiths, races, and genders in that flag line, all with the same purpose. Flags straight up, backs straight and emotions put to to the back of our minds.

When the time came and the doors opened, we gathered close to protect the family and casket from photographers. The Army honor guard placed Sgt. Ardron in the hearse with honor and care. We then quickly broke lines and folded our flags to join the procession to the grave site.

Now is where my words might fail me… because I don’t honestly know if I can describe the next moments properly. I shall try.

It was one of the most emotional stretches of 6 to 10 miles I have ever driven in my life. From the funeral home to the cemetery there were citizens lining every road, holding flags, saluting or holding their hands over their hearts. As we passed over the expressway, the fire department had two trucks, one on each side, and their ladder booms were crossed over the roadway with a flag held between them. I even noticed cars beneath us on the expressway pulling over to show their respect.

We drove through 4 towns and the cars were stopped the entire route. Some holding flags out their windows. Others standing out of their cars to show their respect. I have never seen such a beautiful sight of red, white and blue. There must have been a thousand or more people along the roadside. Our procession was more than a mile long.

There were hand written signs thanking the vets for their service. There was a Mexican family proudly holding up a red, white and blue quilt between them. There was the daddy and his little boy holding his flag high. The African-American family that held a huge flag up in their front yard. Veterans in their uniforms saluting as we drove past. The elderly couple that stood just a bit straighter as we filed by them. Boys scouts standing all in a row with their flag poles. The trucker in his big rig giving the thumbs up.

Race and religion – they no longer mattered. There was one singular purpose. A grateful people on a small speck of this great country we live in turned out by the hundreds to say Thank You.

My husband, whom I have only seen cry once, was sniffling because he could no longer contain his emotions. His comment of “If only this soldier could see this” did me in. He did see it, but I knew what he meant.

We arrived to the cemetery, parked and once again gathered our flags. We once again formed a flag line and were thanked by the family for doing this for them more times than I can count. It was a honor and a privilege to to be there for them and for Sgt. Ardron. The honor guard placed Sgt. Ardron on his final resting place. We were invited to move in closer and we did. The 21 gun salute was made, taps rang out and prayers were said. It was a moving experience that will be forever etched in my mind.

Final count from the day was: 102 motorcycles and 7 cages. Quite a turnout, wouldn’t you say?

Just so you know, I did have some fun yesterday. I was treated to dinner and marguarita’s by my step-daughter. It was a wonderful end to a wonderful day. It was a day I would and will repeat as many times as necessary until each and every one of our soldiers come home.

Yes, we are all truly blessed to live in a country where we can put aside our differences to honor a soldier that gave his all so that others can be free.

If you want to know how you too can honor our fallen heros, then click the link to the Patriot Guard and sign up. It is free to join and it will cost you nothing but a little of your time to ride with them to do what I did yesterday. You don’t have to have a motorcycle to join and the time you spend honoring our fallen will be something you will never regret. The link to join is right at the top of the home page, followed by the PGR mission statement. Take the time… it is a feel good thing to do.