The caisson, the riderless horse, the spontaneous applause, the shouted encouragement to Nancy, the sheer number of people and functionaries in the oppressive heat, the clockwork precision of the march to the Capital, the daunting climb of the steps, the triumphant surge of the notes of The Battle Hymm of the Republic, the glancing adoration of Nancy on the casket, the impassioned speeches at the time of repose, the etherial voices in the choir, the grace of The Iron Lady, and finally the steadfast discipline of the honor guard at Ronnie's side, it's all too much.
But what blows me away more than anything is the overwhelming number of people who took time out of their lives to travel, face nightmarish parking, family sacrifice, heat, and long lines, only to stop for a few seconds to salute, bow, make the sign of the cross, hold their hands over their hearts, and any other manner of respect for a man who did nothing more than rise to a challenge and do the right thing.
It's such a simple notion and he did it and he took us with him. God bless America.
Thank you.