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<p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Comic Sans MS";
color:blue'><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Comic Sans MS";
color:blue'>Ladies and Gentlemen,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Comic Sans MS";
color:blue'><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Comic Sans MS";
color:blue'>We are going to stray for just a moment from our usual format and I’m
going to take a moment to share with you a story that a rider sent to me.
This was sent unsolicited by a rider who wishes to remain anonymous. We’re
not turning the forum into Reader’s Digest or anything like that but I’m
sure you’re sick of reading what I have to say so I thought you might
enjoy hearing the perspective of another. The writer speaks of the past
month in the North Texas PGR. I think you might enjoy it and identify
with it, so here it is. I haven’t changed a word, a space, a comma
or a paragraph. It is just as the writer put it down originally and
straight from the heart.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Comic Sans MS";
color:blue'><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Comic Sans MS";
color:blue'>Steve Lucas<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Comic Sans MS";
color:blue'>Deputy State Captain<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Comic Sans MS";
color:blue'>North Texas PGR<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Comic Sans MS";
color:blue'><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class=MsoNormal><b>A month in the North Texas PGR<o:p></o:p></b></p>
<p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class=MsoNormal> Look, as I start this I think, wow I have never
sit down to write anything like this in my life. Don’t quite understand the
need to do it now, but the need is there. I started to write about the
Gainesville Mission but it has been a month for me that I’ll never
forget. So I am going to go through a few things that has happened this month
and if it don’t make you want to be a Patriot Guard Rider or proud to be
a Patriot Guard Rider nothing will. But along with the good, no, the great came
points where I thought, I just don’t understand. It wasn’t all that
bad but I think it’s what started me thinking about putting this into words.
I’ll explain that later. A good place to start would be on Saturday 7
March. That was the first mission that I ever rode on my bike with a big flag.
Everyone’s heard the old saying what a difference a day makes, well in
the PGR it should be what a difference a big flag makes. The mission that day
was services for SFC Raymond Munden who was killed in action in Iraq. For
PGR members like me it’s hard to get out on missions as much as I would
like but I do try to make it to has many of the missions for soldiers killed in
action as possible. Well we met at the church in Mesquite and part of the
mission was the big flag bikes was going to go to the families home and escort
them to the church. We departed as normal, arrived at the families’ home
shortly there after. What a mess we made of that little street in Mesquite, 25
to 30 big flag bikes. SFC Munden had a wife and four young children, and for me
children are the worst. It breaks my heart to know they just lost one of their
parents and their whole life was just changed forever. Well, he had 2 young
sons, maybe 10 and 12 or so and they wanted to ride to the service on a
motorcycle. In no time a couple helmets were produced and they walked down the
line and got to choose which motorcycle they wanted to ride on and I was lucky
enough to ride the oldest son to his father’s service. It doesn’t
sound like much but think about this: that was probably the only bright spot in
the worst day of that young boy’s life to that point. I was proud and
honored that he chose to ride with me and happy that I might have given him a
small break from the reality of that day.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class=MsoNormal> The next major event in the month of March was
the 9<sup>th</sup>, when for the first time I went to an airport to escort a
fallen soldier to the funeral home. We gathered at the Addison Police Station
near the Addison Airport to escort SSG Jeremy E. Bessa from the airport to the
funeral home. Not knowing what to expect the sight of the plane rolling under
the giant flag between the 2 Addison Fire Department ladder trucks and then the
water spray over it was amazing. Once the plane was in the hanger it took
several minutes for the door to open and lower this Green Beret’s coffin
to the hanger floor. Once it was on the floor family members gathered at the
coffin for some time and I could hear some faint sniffles coming from the line
of burly bikers I was proudly standing with. It was a very touching event to
say the least. The escort that day and the very long escort for SSG Bessa the
next day went off perfectly. I guess that the vast majority of us being
ex-military has a great deal to do with how efficiently we seem to run.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class=MsoNormal> Now, on to some fun stuff, Gainesville! This
was also a first for me, I have never done anything fun with the PGR before
either. I guess I would classify fun with the PGR as any mission we are not
dealing in some way, shape, or form with burying a soldier or ex-soldier or
anyone. What we do most of the time is not fun but we all see it has absolutely
necessary or we wouldn’t be out there. I have met some of the greatest
people I have ever known here in the North Texas PGR but I would much rather
see you at a Toy Run, a Poker Run, Wal-Mart or Wendy’s, anywhere other
than standing the flag line outside a service for another soldier. So I was
looking forward to escorting the Metal of Honor recipients from DFW Airport to
Gainesville on April 1st. I have told the next part of this story to several
folks and one of them suggested I write it down and I guess that’s where
this all started, not sure. It was a great day, the sun was out the wind was
blowing like crazy and the flags were standing straight and we had 200 plus
bikes waiting to escort these heroes to Gainesville. What a great day! I was
the 3<sup>rd</sup> bike from the front in the right column and as we headed out
114, I watched as the police moved traffic from our way. We hadn’t gone
but 5 miles or so when I noticed to the right side they had closed an on ramp
so we could pass. In maybe the 6th car back, a nice car for sure, I saw a
gentleman step out talking on his cell phone has he did. Nice tie, nice shirt,
you could see he was doing pretty well for himself at whatever his chosen
profession was. To my astonishment the next thing he done was flip the entire
escort the big bird, and I’m sure he wasn’t telling us we were
number one. I didn’t like it and I guess he was just lucky there
wasn’t someone like me in the 7<sup>th</sup> car or he would have heard
an earful at the least. So we continued out 114 and hit 35 north for the long
haul to Gainesville. Just north of Denton again to the right side of the road I
saw a man in the middle of nowhere with only his backpack and very dirty and
scruffy cloths. He stood, removed his hat and showed respect to the escort and
heroes as we passed. Either one of these displays by folks we passed
wouldn’t have been burned into my memory if they hadn’t been so
close together and so completely opposite of what I would have expected. Here
we had a business man, looked successful, nice car, chances are a nice house,
pretty wife, cute kids, great job, got it all. All this country has to offer he
has and he has to get out his car and flip us off because we held him up for 5
minutes. Then in the middle of nowhere a man that has nothing other than what
he’s carrying on his back stands and shows the proper respect as we pass,
I was amazed and dumbfounded. I will continue to carry this story and tell this
story now every chance I get. We did finish the escort to the absolute
amazement of the 9 Metal of Honor recipients. Every indication was they were
completely blown away by our show of honor and respect we gave them.
Unfortunately, for all of us we found out the next day that would be the final
mission for one of our own. Gary Maddux was killed around 8:30PM on his way
home from the mission when a truck pulled out in front of him and he hit it and
died at the scene. I rode in the row directly behind and opposite from Gary on
his last mission, he will be missed. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class=MsoNormal> I said Gainesville was the fun stuff and the mission
to get our heroes there was only the beginning. Saturday the 4<sup>th</sup> was
the day of the parade, never ridden in a parade before so this was another
first. Leaving the house well before sun up was the start of a very long day as
I’m sure it was for many of us there. But that was a day like no other
and I’ll never forget it. I rode in the parade, it was wonderful. Riding
4 wide down that main street was about as cool as it gets. If that didn’t
get your blood moving having all those people yelling and waving you need
to get checked out, to see if your still alive. Shortly after the end of the
parade we had the chance to see and talk, ever so briefly, with the Metal of
Honor recipients. Everyone either bought a book or brought something for them
to sign. The one single thing that hit me was that these heroes, these
gentlemen, these Metal of Honor recipients were thanking me and all us Patriot
Guard Riders for being there and doing what we do. Think of that for just a
minute, here’s a man wearing the Metal of Honor signing or book or
whatever you brought and when he’s done he shakes your hand and thanks
you for doing what you do. But, you think, he’s received the Metal of
Honor I should, we all should be thanking him and we did. Anyone that was there
that day should have been completely blown away by those men. They are heroes,
they are gentlemen, and it was wonderful meeting them. What a great day it was!<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class=MsoNormal> Well I started this story sort of on 7 March
with the services for SFC Munden and I’ll bring it to a close on 7 April
with the Patriot Guard Riders of North Texas honoring one of our own, Gary
Maddux. It was cold just getting to the church in Greenville. Everyone that
arrived was cold, you could tell. Hell, I felt bad for some because I traveled
less than 20 miles and I got cold and the gentleman standing next to me at the
church told George he came from 150 miles away. Wow, that had to have been a
long cold ride. This was one of the more complicated staging processes at the
church because of the limited parking space. Poor Dewey, it was move the bikes
here, move the bikes there. But it’s just like everything in the PGR you
just do what you got to do to make things right. The service was fairly short
at the church and we were off on the ride from Greenville to DFW National
Cemetery. Man that was a long ride at 45MPH. As I told you earlier I rode close
to Gary on his last mission and to my surprise as we was going down to the
cemetery I was again riding beside and behind the same two guys I did on that
mission. We spoke when we stopped at the cemetery and they too had realized we
were in the same spot as we were on Gary’s last mission and we all
thought that we should have left Gary’s spot open, sort of like a missing
man formation. That would have been fitting. Then we departed the welcome
center and moved down to the pavilion and everyone moved into position and they
were ready to take Gary out of the hearse. And I’m sure this was a first
for most of us, they couldn’t get the back door to open. During the time
several folks were fumbling with the door and this and that I looked over at
Wild Bill and whispered, I guess Gary really doesn’t want to leave the
Patriot Guard. He quietly agreed and smiled. I wonder how many others were
thinking that very same thing about then? God bless Gary and his family!<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class=MsoNormal> That’s it, from the 7<sup>th</sup> to the
7<sup>th</sup>. Like I said I have never written anything like this before,
maybe never will again. It was an extraordinary month for me. I met 11
extraordinary heroes, witnessed extraordinary acts, good and bad, in 1 short
month. I’ll close this by saying that I am proud and honored to ride with
each and every PGR member here in north Texas, what a great bunch of folks! We
do what we do because it’s the right thing to do! Maybe we ought to get a
north Texas PGR patch that says that. God bless you all and please ride safe!<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Comic Sans MS";
color:blue'><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
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