Procession for a Hero

I've used that word twice today. I think it might be justified both times. I was one of a thousand people (or more) who stood on Alabama street and watched the funeral procession for Timothy Laird. Besides the annoyance I felt at the people who either A. sat down while the hearse was passing or B. couldn't be bothered to take off their baseball caps, I thought it was amazing. I couldn't believe, first of all, how long it was. It was literally more than an hour. There were cars from Cincinnati, Cars from Michigan, Cars from all over the state. University Police cars...everyone was there. Amazing. It was definitely something to see. I'm sure there were people cursing their luck at getting caught in the area at the wrong time. Literally, if you were on the wrong side of Fate today, you just missed the cutoff. I was on my way to the bank, crossing the street, and the police cars were out blocking traffic. The light changed, a group of cars got through, and then the barriers went up. If you weren't one of the ones that got through, shut off the engine because you were sitting there for an hour. And, while they were cursing their luck, I hope they weren't cursing the reason for their delay.