21
Tuesday morning around 10 a.m. It was nice out but then again, it is El Paso. I over and around the road construction near Fred Wilson Drive. The tires on jeep rumbling over some loose gravel and dirt. I turned right, in to the cemetery. I circled around the lawns on either side of me, driving past hundreds (thousands?) of white headstones. These cut, crafted and chiseled stones marking the final resting of place of the men and women that have served this great nation of ours. Some died in battle, while some died from injuries suffered in battle, directly, indirectly. Some from enemy fire and a few from friendly fire. But all of them died because they answered the call.
My jeep rolled along. I looked over to my left and spotted the vehicles lined up, facing south. I pulled to a stop, popped the jeep into reverse and parked. I reached for my cover. Opened the door and got out. I pulled my cover on, squared it and my uniform away. The color guard had just pulled the flag drapped casket out of hearse. They stepped in unison, turning the casket around, moving ever so slowly, until it came to rest on top of gurney. I popped to attention and watched as the Air Force honor guard stood at attention as well. They gently but firmly grabbed the flag and started folding the flag. Every movement, every fold, perfect coordinated synchronization. They finished, the senior enlisted man on the end of the formation accepted the now folded, the three sided flag into his hands. He bowed his head. The rest of the guard turned on their heels away from him and starting marching away. I stood and admired their precission and almost forgot about the seventy or so people that were watching, taking this all in with me. The honor guard marched across the street, onto another section of lawn. I heard an order called out and I snapped a salute and held it in place. I could hear the slap of gloved hands onto the stock of the rifles and although I knew what was coming, I could not stop the emotions that rocked me when that first shot rang out over this West Texas sky. Three rifles, seven shots each. 21 shots in all. It was over. But then, I heard the first note of 'Taps' fill the air. Somewhere off to my left and just out of sight, a lone bugler played one of the most moving and fitting songs ever composed. I looked straight ahead, letting each note linger around me. I took in the crowd in front of me just looking at the silver casket in front of them. A tear betrayed me and rolled down my cheek. The song ended. I waited a few seconds and relaxed my salute. I marched toward my waiting companions. The priest finished with the service and the funeral director stepped forward and asked us to pay our final respects to the family. We stood and waited our turn. They did not know us and we had never met them. (Our friend and fellow reservist, UT1 Ogaz, who is currently in Afghanistan asked to represent.) We were next. The family looked up at us in our uniforms. "We are here on behalf of Augustine. Our condolences to you and the family. If you need anything, let us know." I do not know if they responded or even aknowledged our being there. What hit me was the fragilility of their appearance. We moved on and waited for a few minutes. The last of the visitors went by the family. We turned and walked away. I opened the door to my jeep and stepped in. Turned the key and sat there for a minute or two. I looked back at the casket, popped the clutch and drove away, past the flag pole with the flag at half mast, past the main gate and back into traffic, filled with cars and people going about their dailyt routines but in about two hours another plot will be topped off and days later another white marker will go up. Marking the final resting place of one more american hero. Taken too soon, much too soon.
R.I.P. Maribel Solis.
We will carry on.
Maribel Solis, 25, passed away October 17, 2009 in Colorado Springs, Colorado. She was a veteran of the U.S. Air Force, and continued to work at the Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs for the remainder of her life. "Nena" as she was lovingly called by her family, was a caring and selfless person. She loved life, her family, and her friends, and always gave a helping hand to anyone in need. She was a true friend, daughter, sister and aunt, and she will be greatly missed. We love you and we will never forget you. She was preceded in death by her grandparents, José and Maria Clara Rojas and Julian Solis. Survived by her parents, Manuel and Maria Solis, brother Carlos Solis; sister Cristina (Ubaldo) Torres; niece Samantha Torres; nephews Benjamin and Sebastian Torres, and a host of aunts, uncles, cousins and relatives in El Paso, TX. Visitation will be from 5:00 to 9:00 pm, on Monday, October 26, 2009 with a Vigil/Rosary at 7:00 pm at Sunset Funeral Homes-Northeast. Funeral Mass will be recited at 9:15 am, Tuesday, October 27, 2009 at Our Lady of Assumption Catholic Church. Interment will follow with full Military Honors at Fort Bliss National Cemetery. Service entrusted to Sunset Funeral Homes-Northeast. Please visit the on-line register book at www.sunsetfuneralhomes.net.
My jeep rolled along. I looked over to my left and spotted the vehicles lined up, facing south. I pulled to a stop, popped the jeep into reverse and parked. I reached for my cover. Opened the door and got out. I pulled my cover on, squared it and my uniform away. The color guard had just pulled the flag drapped casket out of hearse. They stepped in unison, turning the casket around, moving ever so slowly, until it came to rest on top of gurney. I popped to attention and watched as the Air Force honor guard stood at attention as well. They gently but firmly grabbed the flag and started folding the flag. Every movement, every fold, perfect coordinated synchronization. They finished, the senior enlisted man on the end of the formation accepted the now folded, the three sided flag into his hands. He bowed his head. The rest of the guard turned on their heels away from him and starting marching away. I stood and admired their precission and almost forgot about the seventy or so people that were watching, taking this all in with me. The honor guard marched across the street, onto another section of lawn. I heard an order called out and I snapped a salute and held it in place. I could hear the slap of gloved hands onto the stock of the rifles and although I knew what was coming, I could not stop the emotions that rocked me when that first shot rang out over this West Texas sky. Three rifles, seven shots each. 21 shots in all. It was over. But then, I heard the first note of 'Taps' fill the air. Somewhere off to my left and just out of sight, a lone bugler played one of the most moving and fitting songs ever composed. I looked straight ahead, letting each note linger around me. I took in the crowd in front of me just looking at the silver casket in front of them. A tear betrayed me and rolled down my cheek. The song ended. I waited a few seconds and relaxed my salute. I marched toward my waiting companions. The priest finished with the service and the funeral director stepped forward and asked us to pay our final respects to the family. We stood and waited our turn. They did not know us and we had never met them. (Our friend and fellow reservist, UT1 Ogaz, who is currently in Afghanistan asked to represent.) We were next. The family looked up at us in our uniforms. "We are here on behalf of Augustine. Our condolences to you and the family. If you need anything, let us know." I do not know if they responded or even aknowledged our being there. What hit me was the fragilility of their appearance. We moved on and waited for a few minutes. The last of the visitors went by the family. We turned and walked away. I opened the door to my jeep and stepped in. Turned the key and sat there for a minute or two. I looked back at the casket, popped the clutch and drove away, past the flag pole with the flag at half mast, past the main gate and back into traffic, filled with cars and people going about their dailyt routines but in about two hours another plot will be topped off and days later another white marker will go up. Marking the final resting place of one more american hero. Taken too soon, much too soon.
R.I.P. Maribel Solis.
We will carry on.
Maribel Solis, 25, passed away October 17, 2009 in Colorado Springs, Colorado. She was a veteran of the U.S. Air Force, and continued to work at the Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs for the remainder of her life. "Nena" as she was lovingly called by her family, was a caring and selfless person. She loved life, her family, and her friends, and always gave a helping hand to anyone in need. She was a true friend, daughter, sister and aunt, and she will be greatly missed. We love you and we will never forget you. She was preceded in death by her grandparents, José and Maria Clara Rojas and Julian Solis. Survived by her parents, Manuel and Maria Solis, brother Carlos Solis; sister Cristina (Ubaldo) Torres; niece Samantha Torres; nephews Benjamin and Sebastian Torres, and a host of aunts, uncles, cousins and relatives in El Paso, TX. Visitation will be from 5:00 to 9:00 pm, on Monday, October 26, 2009 with a Vigil/Rosary at 7:00 pm at Sunset Funeral Homes-Northeast. Funeral Mass will be recited at 9:15 am, Tuesday, October 27, 2009 at Our Lady of Assumption Catholic Church. Interment will follow with full Military Honors at Fort Bliss National Cemetery. Service entrusted to Sunset Funeral Homes-Northeast. Please visit the on-line register book at www.sunsetfuneralhomes.net.
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