Why? Indeed.

Shame on me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~

I rode down there with a heart still hardened from last night. Should never let that happen, never let someone else dictate how you feel.

We stood the flagline, lining both sides of the street and even up on the wide walkway leading into the church. Had to be over 50 flags flying as the family rode by and entered.

After all were inside we went across the road to get our ride briefing. At the end, we were heard the names of the new riders and the blue star and gold star parents that were with us. Before we broke up, we were asked "Why are you here? Think about it."

For a change, I was one of the ones that rode ahead to the cemetery to set up and prepare for the arrival of our hero and the rest. As we stood there, we all decided to take shelter from the sun under the canopy of the cedars that lined the roadway. To the west of the cemetery running alongside the street is a fence and across the street is another part of the cemetery. We noticed that they too were set up to honor a soldier. We were cooling off, drinking water, talking in small groups, some lying on the grass, others sitting rather unceremoniously on headstones. The hearse came in and their hero was was brought about. While their ceremony ensued, we ended up, as a unit, standing, watching intently, reverently. By the time the 21 gun salute went off and Taps was played, we were all standing at attention, hand salute or hand over heart from across the road. Why?

We lined up with the flags again, along the entrance, maybe the length of a football field. Our hero with family, friends and others concerned moved in front of us down to his final resting place. Once they were there, we surrounded them with a huge circle of flags.

This young man. He wasn't the type to whine about the things in his life that weren't how he wanted them. How life owed him this and that. He was all about life and the future. He had enlisted in the Army less than a year ago. Enthusiastic about learning and going to school and raising his year old son, Isaiah.

I strained to hear the list of his accomplishments. He had completed over 100 route clearance missions since January 23rd of this year. Bronze Star, Purple Heart, Good Conduct Medal and many more. Not bad. I'm sure he never thought much about todays activities, sounds to me like he was busy not doing things for glory and honor, but in order to keep others from having to do them.

Last Saturday, while engaged in yet another road clearance mission, an ememy ambush attacked the rear of the vehicle, where SPC Alexis Vicente Maldonado was a gunner. He was one month and four days past his 20th birthday.

I stood there looking at the white hair under the VFW cap, the long grey ponytail and whiskers of the VietNam vet, the crisp uniform and fresh faces of our volunteer military. This man wasn't just a son to Alicia and Jesse, he was a son to all of us.

The sweet Texas summer sprinkle started, it was cooling and would mask the tears. It would also soften the ground where this young man, full of life and promise would be laid to rest. When the bottom fell out, we all stood there and maybe I'm crazy, but I would swear that the spirit of that kid exploded out and he was pointing at us and laughing and shouting "I'm free, I'm home! Thank you all and now maybe you should be on your way."

Why would someone burn a day of vacation, ride for an hour and a half, to attend a funeral for someone they didn't even know?

Why? Indeed.