One of the memorable moments of my adult life was attending the funeral of my cousin, Alan, in Arlington National Cemetery. It was January 2007. Alan was a career military man, an Army lieutenant colonel who specialized in decoding radio signals. He later served as security director for the Federal Aviation Administration. Lanky, strong, and very candid, he was also loving, graceful, and generous. He adored his wife of 41 years, Charlotte, and his three children. Among Alan’s passions were boating, spending time on Lake Michigan, and fixing things, from cars to toasters to dishwashers. He answered the phone with his last name only; short and to the point.
At his funeral, Alan received full military honors. We gathered for a chapel service on the grounds at Arlington, then followed the horse-drawn caisson (carriage) carrying his remains to the marbled Columbarium where veterans whose bodies have been cremated are honored. The sight of thousands and thousands of gravestones lined up geometrically was quite overwhelming; more than 300,000 people are buried at Arlington. There was another brief service, a gun salute, and taps played by a bugler. I remember how the uniformed casket team held the stretched American flag over Alan’s remains, and how they folded the flag with precision and handed it to Charlotte. It was a heartbreaking but also fitting gesture of gratitude.
Last March, I went back to Arlington National Cemetery with Charlotte and my husband and two sons. It happened to be Alan’s birthday, and we visited the light marble crypt with his name inscribed on the front. His ashes are inside, in a beautiful box that Charlotte had stenciled with a gold pattern before his death.
Today, on Veterans Day, I think of Alan and all the veterans who’ve served our country. Thanks, and goodbye.
