With Honor And Respect

The ride to Fairview is a thing of beauty. Blue lights, Red white and blue flags, mixed with the yellow and blue of the Patriot Guard, the royal blue of the United States Air Force, cherry blossoms falling almost like snow in places. Down the hill, over Honey Creek, right on East Fairview, thru the 4-way stop at Union Church, as the Rockdale Motor unit turns circles in the intersection. Across Hwy 155, as a Henry County Deputy stands at attention. Downhill again, past the park, two elementary schools, school buses pulled aside, then the final left turn and down the hill, past the waiting Honor Guard, their eyes straight ahead, white gloves, perfect uniforms. Park the bikes, grab a flag, Poppa Joe’s already in the lead, setting the line on three sides of the two green canvas shelters. An order, barely audible from where we are, and the Honor Guard moves forward. Slowly, with precision, they lift Stephens casket, turn and begin the slow walk to the awaiting grave site. Halt, another turn, and it is in place. The family takes their places under the green awnings, and almost on cue, a gentle rain begins to fall. The chaplain says a few words, a prayer, another command. Rifles are racked, and shots ring out, and again and again. With the first notes of taps, the rain seems to stop, almost as if Heaven is saying that the time for tears is over. The flag is folded, presented to Stevens’s widow, and another is given to his Mother. The Honor Guard leaves the field, a few more words from the minister, and the service is over. Flags are rolled up, stowed away. Good-byes are said, some more “Thank-yous”, motors fire up, and we ride away, singly, twos or threes, each of us wishing we could wave a magic wand and make it all go away.