.::.A Second Memorial Day.::.

This story begins much earlier than last week when a good friend shared a link with me on facebook about a fallen Marine and the expected protest by Westboro Baptist Church members at his funeral. The talk was to get a group together to go in support, but literally I wasn't sure if I would go until I woke up on Monday morning. I felt selfish for not jumping at the opportunity to go in support and though  I wasn't sure about going still, all I could think about was Sgt. Kevin B Balduf, and his family, children and, wife who were left behind.

Yesterday, a fallen Marine,  Sgt. Kevin Balduf was remembered by his family, friends, and strangers from across the country, at Woodmont Church in Nashville, TN. 

My day started catching a  Rural Metro ambulances serving as a shuttle bus between the fairgrounds (for parking) and the church. Outside the church a couple thousand individuals who didn't know this young hero still gathered in his honor. Yesterday there were only Americans on those church grounds no one saw gender, race, religion just true Red, White and Blue AMERICANs. This was the day we all had something in common; What did we have in common?

We had flags and American Pride. Big flags, little flags, middle sized flags. Flags on shirts, hats, bikes, cars, taped to ambulance antennas and we bonded on the feeling that this was where we had to be. Our being there was, in part, due to the threat the well known (for not so popular reasons) Westboro Baptist Church. We were not there to cause a fight, although many of us had boiling blood running through our veins; but because Kevin's family needed our love and our protection and Kevin's family still needed to know he was appreciated, respected and honored for his ultimate sacrifice.

I expected to spend a day planning to be hot, tired, and sweaty. What I didn't expect was to have what seemed like dozens of Marines walking up and down the lines, shaking everyone's hand and saying thank you to the "ordinary citizens". I didn't expect to see Kevin's family and friends walking down the long lines and among the groups of supporters shaking thier hands with each person and saying "Thank you for beng here"

Everyone was sharing water and lunches back and forth. It absolutely was an atmosphere where if an issue came up, the only response on everyone's lips was "What can I do to help?" There were lots of kids present, but not one meltdown. It was like a Sunday afternoon at a big family reunion with all the family hanging out and visiting. The whole atmosphere was one of calm, dedication and purpose paired with love and cheerfulness.

 Around 1pm you could hear motorcycles in the distance and before you knew it there were 300+ motorcycles pulling up to help with the counter protest. This is also about the time traffic starts coming to a stop in both directions from people rubber necking and even a few pulling over to ask what was going on. Around 2pm word was getting out that WBC were on the way to the small section the city granted them for a 45 minute protest permit. Upon the arrival of the like the 3 people from WBC who managed to show up I contemplated following the crowd going to confront these people (mostly our of curiosity to see these people first hand) or stay where I was. As I walked up to where the crowd was gathering my heart started to race and my anger started to surface. I'm not sure what I was expecting to see (and in a crowd where I'm like barely 5'3 it was hard to see) but when I finally saw them it all I felt was anger and somewhat of a surprise. All that had shown up from Westboro was two older women and a young teenage boy to spread their hatred.  Also, to my surprise was their "protest," they didn't speak, just held their signs and disappeared almost as quickly as they showed up. 

During this gathering someone started shouting USA USA USA! Which then of course turned into a full blown chorus of everyone in the area joining in  with the bikes joining in with revving their engines just a few feet away. All pushing toward one goal. To let them know that when you come to Nashville to protest against one of our own you had better bring your "a game." As true Americans should we take care of our own. Once they were gone people started to file back to their respective spots on the roads and started to wave their flags again.

As an proud American, as sister to a new Marine, and the lucky girlfriend of an American Soldier and I am happy to say and feel absolutely proud to have been a very small part of a very big effort.