I went to a funeral today. He was 22. His friends said he was a nice guy, liked to spend time with his buddies, liked chasing girls, loved fishing (they tell a fishing story about a record catfish, but have pictures to prove it!) had a super smile and wonderful eyes, and he was only 22. Two thousand people came to say goodbye, 250 in leathers on bikes with flags, the Governor, the General and a Representative. His brother, his father and mother, his stunned grandparents and a host of aunts, uncles and cousins, his best buddy "walking wounded". and he was only 22.
Sgt Brent Koch. 22 years old, killed by an IED in Iraq. It broke my heart to see his friend, who was hurt in the same bombing, hobbling in uniform to his seat in the gym where the two of them used to play basketball. When National Guard soldiers go to war, they go with their friends, their brothers and sisters, their fathers and mothers, aunts, uncles and cousins.
As political as I am, there wasn't any room for that there. Maybe before, reading BIO, or after listening to the radio. But then, no. There was only time to grieve, to say hello to a Col I know, and thank you to the Patriot Riders.
Like we all said to each other, I hope we don't see each other at another one ever again.
talk to you later.