And so it goes...

In the wind again this weekend, with 2 more PGR missions completed.

The first was the funeral of a WWII vet on Saturday afternoon. He was a Navy man and served in the Pacific Theatre on a transport ship. He was lucky enough to make it back home to enjoy the fruits that his service helped to protect. He quickly set about raising a family, married to the 'love of his life' for 65 years. He and his bride should prolly get a medal for that alone!

He was from large family and many were in attendance at the services. Several of them walked our flag line, personally thanking each rider for attending. One lady in particular issued the line of the day. As she thanked the rider beside me, she said, 'When we drove up and I saw all ya'll standing there, I thought 'I didn't know Uncle Wayne was in a motorcycle gang!' Then I remembered who you were, and I'm so glad that you came!" I almost bit thru my cheek...

Fast forward to Sunday morning at 8am. I and about 40 other riders and friends stood on an overpass in Grand Prairie. Each year, a group of riders travels from California to Washington DC to honor POW's, MIA's, and KIA's from all conflicts and all branches of the military, the 'Run for the Wall'. The group had stopped for the evening on Saturday in the area, and our PGR group was there to meet them. We set up flags all across the overpass to give them a proper send-off on Sunday morning, headed to Terrell where their numbers would grow to 500+ bikes and cages (cars/trucks). Now, this is the southern route of the ride, and there is another group that left at the same time, headed thru the central part of the US; Kansas, Iowa, Indiana, and such. Understand that each of these riders pays a small fee to participate and are responsible for all their expenses for the trip. They simply feel so strongly that we as a nation cannot forget the sacrifices made for us, they are willing to do it.

The RFTW group is scheduled to arrive in DC to join the Rolling Thunder rally on Memorial Day weekend. Rolling Thunder is an annual event, the first in 1988. It is named after a 1968 Vietnam War operation, and is meant to call attention to and remind us all that there are still thousands of soldiers that are still unaccounted for, and that we should make every effort to locate them and bring them home. Now, despite the all of the belt-tightening that the current economy has forced us all into, Rolling Thunder will prolly be close to 400,000 participants. That's a lot of folks, a buncha bikes, and you can see how the name 'Rolling Thunder' fits.

It was a most impressive site, but what most struck me about the whole thing was, as we waited for the RFTW riders, car after car, truck after truck, bike after bike, big rig after big rig, passed beneath the bridge with horn honking, waves, salutes, 'thumbs-up'. It was stirring to see so many folks supporting the Stars and Stripes. Maybe we aren't as bad off as we think.

A full weekend to say the least. Once again, not sure where this little trip will end up, but the ride is surely an adventure. I'm even toying with the idea of some equipment to make the baby what the PGR boys call a 'big flag bike'. More later...

Mission...completed

I completed another PGR mission today. It may have been the coolest thing I've ever done. This one was special in lots of ways. PFC Joseph Terrell was killed in action in Korea, November of 1950. His body was returned to the US in 1993, I believe, and he was identified in March of this year. He came home to Dallas on Tuesday, and was laid to rest today. He had been gone for 60+ years. His ID was made thru a DNA match to his 89 year old cousin. That alone makes it special. But let's add in this...my uncle, Charles Miles, was killed in combat in Korea, September of 1950.

My mother's brother was only 19 when he was killed. Mom says that he had enlisted when he was 18, and had gone to Georgia for basic training. While in Georgia, he met and married a woman, and had a child. I don't know if he ever saw his son. Mom says that he was in Korea for only about a week before he was killed. He wrote several letters home, even though he was not there long. Mom says one of his letters said that when his unit shipped out, he and a friend overslept or something, and they ended up arriving at the front after the others. Charles was sent directly to the front lines, and was dead within a few days. He was brought home to Oklahoma, and Mom said that there was lots of support from the Army during the entire time.

Both of these men gave up their lives long before I was ever thought of. The decided to serve their country, to put themselves in harm's way for all of us...past and present generations. Little enough I can do is to try and honor their sacrifice with a little time out of my schedule to recognize what they gave up, and to provide a little support for their families. I wasn't there for Uncle Charles' funeral, but I was there for Joseph Terrell's. I was there not only to honor Joseph, but to also honor Charles.

Today, I got the elusive two-for-one...

Changing of the Guard

I completed my first 2 'missions' with the Patriot Guard Riders, one yesterday and one today. The PGR is a group that provides support and escorts for fallen soldiers, both active duty and vets. I got involved quite by accident a few weeks ago, you can check out the May 1 blog if you are interested in that story. At least check out the PGR website (patriotguard.org), free to join, and you don't even have to ride a bike ( Iron horses if you can, cages are always welcome and appreciated).

The yesterday's mission was to be an honor guard for a soldier going home to Houston thru DFW Airport. I was planning to leave work at 4, and roll over to the airport by 4:45, in time for 'staging'. Construction around the airport. Detours. Confusing signage. This ain't the right way. Fortune smiled on me, and I finally found the AA Cargo terminal. At the end of the parking lot, I saw a group of bikes and figured it was the PGR group I was looking for. As I rolled up, all eyes were on me. Buncha old guys trying to figure out who the 'young' guy was. "Sorry I'm late, gentlemen...the construction was brutal." (pause) "You're only late if we ain't here!" Introductions all around, lots of smiles, handshakes, lots of 'Welcome'. I felt part of the group instantly. I still wasn't sure what to expect out of the whole adventure, so I was a bit on edge.

We had a short 'briefing', with a little background on the soldier. This young man had just returned to Kentucky from a tour in Afghanistan. He and 3 other soldiers were headed to the airport to go home when they were involved in an accident and he was killed. He was going home...survived battle, man's greatest invention designed to separate someone from their butt, and he's killed in a car wreck on his way HOME! Just not right. The group had received a letter from an officer in his unit requesting that the PGR be present, as most of the other soldiers had scattered going on leave, and there was nobody available.

We got the the terminal, and to security, where the American Airlines folks were waiting for us. Seems that AA is big on this sort of thing, employees have formed a group to assist in these situations. At the gate, the attendant made an announcement explaining what was happening, and indicated that, if they wished, passengers at the gate could show their respect by standing while the body was loaded onto the plane. To a man (and woman), everyone in the gate area stood. People walking by that heard the announcement stopped and stood...the area shut down. We were escorted to the tarmac, standing on either side of the conveyor that loaded the body. There were a couple of soldiers that were present, and we were called to attention and saluted as the coffin slowly made it's way up the belt into the hold. There wasn't a dry eye on the team, as airport personnel, our escorts to the tarmac, and a half-dozen airport police officers stood by.

When we got back to the gate, boarding of the flight had not yet started, but everyone was still standing, the area relatively quiet. Seems that quite a few folks out there really do care, and have some understanding of the sacrifices that these young men make for us. It was really good to see a group of people that had little else in common other than being at the same place at the same time show respect at least for the moment that we were in.

The second mission was for a vet who passed away, and his family requested the presence of the PGR. In these situations, the PGR stands a flag line outside the funeral service, participates in an honor guard as the body is place in the coach, and if possible, provides escort to the burial service. It was very pleasant, but a bit cool this morning, and my position was next to a flag in the shade, didn't take too long for me to get a little cold. Nothing compared to what the folks inside were feeling, so just suck it up, Oz.

As the family and friends began arriving, we got lots of smiles and nods as we stood the line. Not much going on outside, we stood in realtive silence. About an hour in, the ride captain told us that the service was about to end, so we stowed all the flags and formed up for the honor guard. Once again, as the casket was brought out of the building, we were called to attention, and saluted. The family followed the casket, and came around to shake the hand of every rider, and to say 'Thank you'. They didn't know us from Adam, but seemed genuinely pleased that we were there.

I still don't know where this thing is going, but it's gonna be an interesting ride. It does put some things into perspective. I personally did not not serve. I have plenty of family members who did serve...my dad, my brother, several uncles and cousins all were members of the Army and Navy. Next week, I'm taking an afternoon off to attend the burial service for a soldier who was killed in Korea in 1950, and is just now coming home. My mom's brother, Uncle Charles, was killed in Korea, so this one hits a little close to home. I know that they deserve so much more, but this is what I can do to show my appreciation, and my respect.

I'll check in every so often, let you know how the lesson is going. Thank you all for coming...

Change of heart

I went to the funeral of a soldier today. No, not anybody we know. My aunt posted a message on that the funeral for a young soldier was being held in Waxahachie this afternoon, and the folks from Westboro Church were planning to demonstrate. I had heard of some instances where bikers would show up at services that the Westboro folks had targeted, and simply line up next to the protesters with engines running, drowning out the chants. I figured, the baby has a nice, deep voice, so why not ride down and see what's going on. When I got out to the bike, it was misting, but i decided to go anyway. Actually, I was kinda hoping for a run-in of sorts, and I wasn't going to miss the chance.

I rolled up on the parking lot, and I was pleased to see lots of people, and lots of bikes. This was going to be good. I parked and walked up to the building, looking for the Westboro folks. The driveway from the street to the Waxahachie Event Center was lined with people, standing in the cold and wind, holding American flags. The crowd was largely silent, and I couldn't hear or see anything that even remotely looked like a protest. As I stood watching the crowd, a lady waked up to me and said "If you want to go inside, you can sit with me." I wasn't sure what she meant at first, but I said "Sure", and turned to follow her into the service. As we walked, she explained that she had driven in from Ft Hood. Her husband was deployed in Kuwait, and all of her friends were suddenly 'busy' and could not come with her. She had spoken with her mother earlier today, and found out that here younger brother is to be deployed to Afghanistan in December. She obviously didn't want to sit thru the service alone, and I actually felt honored to sit with her. I suppose there was another purpose in store for my trip

Inside the auditorium, there were few empty seats. Lots of military, and lots of just plain 'ol folks that came out to honor the fallen soldier. It was a pretty somber atmosphere, as you might imagine, but it wasn't overpowering. A little about the soldier. 23 years old, with a young daughter. He had been active since 2008, I think, and was an exemplary soldier. One of his buddies from his unit described him as a natural leader, always concerned with the 'new guys' even though he was a newbie himself. His parents work at the local high school, and students by the dozens turned out to support the family and pay their respects to the fallen soldier.

As I sat in the service, I thought about what it takes to volunteer to serve in the armed forces. These folks don't have to join, there hasn't been a draft for a long time. There's a better that zero chance that they will be placed in harm's way at some point. They are working to protect freedoms for lots of people that they don't know and will never meet. Many of the very people that they are risking their lives to protect don't particularly like them simply because of their chosen profession. Yet, they are willing to go where nobody wants to go to do the jobs that nobody wants to do, and they do it with pride. Now I'm not saying that the armed forces don't have their share of bad apples. Pick a group, and there will be good and bad. But, all in all, these are a group of pretty special people, and they deserve our support. If you ever get the chance, tell a soldier, a sailor, or a marine "Thanks", and say it like you mean it,

I don't know if the Westboro folks ever showed, I never saw them. What I do know is that I went down for one reason, and came back with an altogether different reason for going again.