Nick

The house will be very quiet now for Mike and Karen, after a very emotional 10 days since hearing of their son’s death in Iraq. To be witness to such an event and the service will be life changing for many. I want to document as much as possible to honor this young man’s life.

     Nick’s body was flown in from Iraq. The family met him at RDU, and with military escort they took him back home for the wake. After thinking the casket would be closed due to the level of his injuries, they were comforted when the funeral director informed them that the casket could be open.

     Along with the pungent smells of the funeral home were the beautiful red, white, and blue flowers and ribbons. Nick lay in his casket in full uniform, the book The Little Prince placed in his hands. Grieving, his sister flung herself over him, kissing him, and staring unbelievingly at her still brother. Many tears were shed as people walked up to view the brave pictures and the reality that was before them.

     Funny how there are so many things you never know about in life until you are placed in a situation to learn.

     The funeral was at 11:00 Saturday December 16, 2006. The family gathered at the house. As we pulled up to the church we could see the parking lot and sidewalk lined with American flags held by leather dressed men and women. Their big and shiny bikes were lined up in the parking lots. These riders from past and present wars had come to show their respect to their fallen comrade. They stood solemn, at attention, in honor, as the family walked numbly by. What they know about their own losses and reason for being there is stunningly meaningful.

     We were led into the church with the mournful sound of the bagpipe. The sounds of grief were as thick a mud, hard to breathe, boxes of tissue being passed from one row to another. It was hard to hear what was really being said, something read from a book, supposed to comfort. They showed a video of Nick, reflecting some of his recent life events. All I could think was how this would be what the family has left to hold on to, and how they will talk about him in years to come, the hurt and loss hopefully becoming muted to a low roar.

     These riders, the Patriot Riders, filed into formation as the hearse and family limousine started their way to the grave-side. Half of the noble riders, two and two, rode with pride behind and between the family. The funeral procession was as far as you could see, two miles long according to law enforcement. Cars, trucks, motorcycles, and walkers were stopped watching this sad grouping go by. Every intersection was blocked with a patrol car. The officers stood at attention with their hats at their hearts.

     At the graveyard again the bikers made their respectful presence seen and felt as they lined up somewhat circling the bereaved. Nick was taken off the hearse in full formation with his fellow army comrades. Ripe with official and practiced regimen, these honorable young men followed their commander and gently brought Nick to his final resting place.

     We sat under the tent with the family. The sun beat down on my back, warm for a December day. I could hear doves chortling behind me and two trains passed on the nearby track. Wonder if they saw what was going on? Wonder what any of the hundreds of people who saw this today thought? Wonder how many said a prayer? Wonder how many cursed and hated? Wonder what I can do now?

     This full military service was humbling. You sit there and watch these young boys and older seasoned men perform their duty with straight faces and codes of silence that most people could never relate to. You can’t help but think, are they wondering if they will be next? How would their family handle such a blow? Do they want to run, or does this tighten their will to fight on.

     A twenty-one gun salute cuts through the air with vibration. The atmosphere goes silent, the birds still, the surrounding trees stand at attention. I can’t help but think this may be the same sound that took this boy’s life.

     The throbbing in my head increased as we sat while the pins and medals and flags were placed into the family’s hands. One young girl behind us fell to the ground. I jumped out of my seat without thinking to see if she was okay - too much information for a young formative mind.

     After the military service the family gathered around to set the doves free. I saw one white dove flying above before the others left their cage flapping in unison. They circled around twice seeming unsure about what they should do.