Attending Seal's Memorial in Virginia Beach: An Honor

August 25, 2011 was the date of the Seal's Memorial  held in Virginia Beach. I wanted to attend, even though I had other responsibilities at home in Durham, North

Carolina. My meeting didn't end that night at the hospital until after 8pm, so I hurried home to northern Durham, and mounted my already prepared motorcycle for the first leg of the journey.

Riding at night is something I don't like to do. Vision is not always the best, and if you go fast enough (I'm not exactly certain how fast that is) you  can "over-ride" your light, and not have adequate distance to stop before a collision. Anyway, as usual with these "missions," this was an important one for me, and I was determined to make it there to pay my respect to these brave soldiers. 

As I made it to Interstate 85, and gunned it up to about 70mph, I took a good look around--it was dark (and fortunately  not a stormy night)! I worried about that, but compensated with some EXTRA vigilance. The one advantage was that there weren't many cars on the road at that time, so I didn't have to watch out for the careless driver. I always follow the rule that "they don't see me" and I think that's a good rule. But at night, it's not the drivers I worry about. It's the animals!

I only saw a couple of deer on the side of the road on my way up--I spent the night

in Emporia, Va.--and they seemed to stay there because of the noise my bike made. Found a Sleep Inn, and hit the sack about 11pm.

I knew the next morning was going to be an early one, as the "briefing" for the mission to the Memorial was going to be at 7am, so I got up at 5, and prepaired to leave at 5:30. The ride should take about 1 and 1/2 hours according to my GPS, and if I pushed it a bit, I might even get there a bit early.

On the road that morning it was still dark, but I was riding east, and I could see the dawn beginning to develop as I rode along US 58. There are numerous police along this road, so I had to be careful. Heading into the populated area of Va. Beach, heightened my awareness because of all the drivers on their way to work: in a hurry, talking on the phone, listening to the radio, and dreaming of their day's work ahead. Again, "they just don't see me."

They had changed the place of the staging the night before to a Big K parking lot on 1st Colonial Drive, and when I approached that location, I was pleased to see  a mass of motorcycles. I pulled in and listened as the mission was described.

There is always an emphasis on safety with these missions because no one wants any accidents and riding with a line of 100+ motorcycles through an urban environment has its hazards. I later found out that the final location for the Memorial was kept "secret" until just prior to the event. I'm not certain why, except the possible risk of a demonstration-- by the Kansas wackos or someone else that does not understand  the sacrifices of our military and the sensitivities of family members caught in such tragedies.

Once the briefing was completed, we mounted up and left for the convention center in Virginia Beach.  Pulling onto the main drag in front of this massive building, the 1000 sailors from the aircraft carrier Theodore Roosevelt presented a magnificent spectacle: standing at attention about three feet apart along the curb with their smart navy blue dress uniforms. We parked our bikes, and dismounted, forming a like line on the opposite side of the street with each of us holding a 3x5 American flag. 

As I stood there, pondering the enormity of this event, I couldn't but help to think about the many aspects of this experience. Studying the uniforms of the sailors, I became aware of the many decorations (red stripes, green stripes--not certain what they are actually called-- different hats, different stripes on different locations on their uniforms and insignias on their sleeves). I have never been in the military, but it was clear that each person in the military knew the rank of everyone they ran into simply by what they were wearing. Everyone had their "place" in this system, and that, I believe, gives it a special sense of social order; something needed when you are in combat. 

It civilian life we "try" to do the same thing, don't we? We do it by the clothes we wear, or the jewelery we wear, or the car we drive, or where we live, or the big one is what we DO! But when you finally come down to it, it doesn't get to the most important part of each one of us, and that's what we ARE--What is our moral compass, our sensitivities, our emotions, our personality. That's all that is important in the end isn't it.

I was honored to go there and stand for these heroes. I was fortunate enough to

receive a copy of the program for the service. It is sad to read. Each one of these heroes was very highly trained, young, highly decorated, and from my perspective represented the best and the brightest that our military has to offer. They left many children without a father, and  wives without a husband, and they were young enough, that they left parents without a son. What a sad, sad loss. I was glad I took the time (glad I had the time) to go there and pay my respects in any way I could. I hope we all take the time to do that in our own way.

I have thought about these deaths now in some detail, and obviously, I don't know all the facts, but from my perspective, this catastrophe could be avoided by following one simple rule: "don't put all your eggs in one basket."

Now I'll admit that I don't know how urgent the need was for reinforcements, and what was available to accomplish this goal, but next time it might be wise to send them in in smaller helicopters, one at a time, to see what the situation is. My guess is that that's being considered.

My readers don't have the program for the Memorial as I do, and you can't read about these individuals that were taken in this accident. I can only tell you that they don't make 'em any better. God bless them and their families and all our thanks, gratitude and respect to them and their families for their  ultimate sacrifice for all of us.

Patriot Guard Riders: a Band of Brothers and a Family For Each Veteran

I'm retired now, so I have the time to investigate a new life, and I'm doing it. Tied down to a job that requires full input, and takes about 95% of one's energy does not allow for searching out activities that give one a new sense of fulfillment. Now that I'm retired," I don't know how I got anything done when I worked" (that's a common statement of retires, by the way). With retirement, I've found time to get more deeply involved with Board activities, write more on my blog, read, ride my motorcycle, garden, attend church, and travel. Oh yes, I'm also an Intern again at home. I'm taking up cooking--a fancy form of chemistry--, and my wife, who is an excellent cook, is my teacher. All these things are enjoyable activities that add fulfillment to my life. Yesterday, I added another chapter to my life that will very likely grow as time goes on because it adds another aspect of satisfaction to my activities.

In a previous blog, I mentioned that I rode my bike to Washington for the "Rolling Thunder" Memorial Day ride. That was a spectacular experience, as I felt it appropriate to pay my respects in a more formal way to the service men and women who have, and continue to sacrifice, way more for our country than most of us can even imagine. With the reports in the newspapers showing almost daily casualties with our ongoing wars, it began to weigh heavily on my spirit. I felt it was time to do something about it. Riding in Rolling Thunder fulfilled that need, and while there, meeting members of the Patriot Guard Riders (PGR) has given me another venue to satisfy this obligation.

The PGR is an organization that calls our attention to the MIA and KIA (killed in action) soldiers. They "stand up for those who stood for us," and they attend the funeral of a veteran, and escort the coffin from the funeral home to the cemetery. They are organized enough, to stand with a "flag line"  at the wake for a veteran, and show proper respect for their special service to our country.

Last weekend, I rode to Charlotte, N.C. with a group from Greensboro, and "stood for" Mr. Leon Spearman. Leon was a Vietnam veteran of the Air Force. He was homeless, and had no family. The Department of Social Services had looked for three months, but found no living relatives. That's why the Patriot Guard Riders became his family.

When I arrived in Charlotte at the McEwen Pineville Chapel, there were about one hundred motorcyclists that had become the "family" for Mr. Spearman. He was saluted by the group (vets only), and we escorted his coffin to Salisbury to the National Cemetery for a short service and burial. The Commander of the local VFW accepted the flag from the coffin--the family usually does this-- and he will place it in a special container and attach it to the wall of the VFW post with Leon Spearman's name underneath. Those feelings of respect for "brothers in arms" runs deep, and the Patriot Guard Riders demonstrate this with each "mission."

I was never in the military, so I don't have the experience to fully empathize or deeply understand the genesis of this special loyalty. Maybe it comes from experiencing a difficult or sometimes terrible situation with others. On a deeper level, I believe it must come from doing something with other people and literally depending on those others for your own personal health and life. If they don't do their job, you might not survive. My suspicion is that being in that type of situation generates a loyalty far beyond what everyday people experience in their life.

The type of loyalty to one another, demonstrated by the PGRs is special. A few of us might have "loyalty" to our alma mater. I don't because it was never developed during my college years, and there wasn't much "school spirit" when I was there anyway. But that type of loyalty doesn't even rank with the connections I see in the veteran's groups. In the military, someone, and it might be YOU, might have to lay down his life for the guy next to you, and that's a big, big commitment that you don't forget. Given that experience, when you see another veteran who is leaving this life, it is your chance to give that person some well earned respect.

They are coming home right now. GySgt. Ralph E. Pate, Jr. is coming home this July 4th. His body will be met at the Myrtle Beach Airport on the 4th, escorted to Marion, SC for a "visitation" on the 5th.  Then, on the 6th, there will be a Memorial Service Flag Line and the Patriot Guard Riders will escort him to his final resting place in Marion, SC. Gunnery Sargent Pate--EJ was his nick name-- was 29 years old, and he was killed in action on Sunday the 26th of June in Helmand Province, Afghanistan. He was a Marine, and he always wanted to be a Marine. He had served in Afganistan 5 times: in 2004, 2006, 2008, 2009, and was finally deployed again in 2011. The Patriot Guard Riders will be there to meet him when he comes home, and they will pay their highest respect and honor to him as he goes on this final journey.

It is the men and women like Sargent Pate who give all of us our freedoms. The Declaration of Independence only talks about our "unalienable rights of Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness." It is people like Sargent Pate that have given their all to guarantee that we keep those rights. So on this "Independence Day" when you think about the history of this great country, remember folks like Gunnery Sargent Ralph E. Pate, Jr. and say or think a prayer for him and for his family. You don't have to go there--although it would be nice-- to pay your respects for his gift, the Patriot Guard Riders will do that for all of us. Have a peaceful July 4th.