With the sad passing of Betty Ford yesterday, it reminded me of when President Gerald Ford passed away. Gerald Ford grew up an hour from here, and I remember going to the Gerald Ford Museum in Grand Rapids as a child. The airport is named after him. He was the city's hometown hero.
When funeral and burial plans were being made for President Ford, I kept thinking about how close it was all taking place. I decided that this was a moment when history could be witnessed. Where I could watch something historical as it happened. I decided to take the day off from work and go up to the funeral.
I also decided to take Kyle. Knowing he would never remember it at 14 months, I still knew that he would be present for something historical. And being a scrapbooker, he would certainly have the pictures -- a learning moment for later. ;-)
I headed up there with my Google Maps printout in hand, not knowing where I was going or what to expect. It was a cold January day. I figured, we'd see what we could do. If it didn't work out, we would come home. But we'd make the effort.
As far as witnessing history goes, we could not have been more fortunate. We parked literally a couple blocks from the church. We stood right against the barricade, front and center, just across from the church corner. We saw the church entrance, the military processions, the casket. I stood somberly, holding Kyle, as the hearse drove right past me with a flag-draped casket carrying a man of greatness in it. A man with the ambition and motivation to seek and earn our nation's highest office. A moment of silent respect.
Some day, these pictures will tell Kyle the story. And he will be able to say, "I was there." (And, he was good!)
When funeral and burial plans were being made for President Ford, I kept thinking about how close it was all taking place. I decided that this was a moment when history could be witnessed. Where I could watch something historical as it happened. I decided to take the day off from work and go up to the funeral.
I also decided to take Kyle. Knowing he would never remember it at 14 months, I still knew that he would be present for something historical. And being a scrapbooker, he would certainly have the pictures -- a learning moment for later. ;-)
I headed up there with my Google Maps printout in hand, not knowing where I was going or what to expect. It was a cold January day. I figured, we'd see what we could do. If it didn't work out, we would come home. But we'd make the effort.
As far as witnessing history goes, we could not have been more fortunate. We parked literally a couple blocks from the church. We stood right against the barricade, front and center, just across from the church corner. We saw the church entrance, the military processions, the casket. I stood somberly, holding Kyle, as the hearse drove right past me with a flag-draped casket carrying a man of greatness in it. A man with the ambition and motivation to seek and earn our nation's highest office. A moment of silent respect.
Some day, these pictures will tell Kyle the story. And he will be able to say, "I was there." (And, he was good!)
2 comments:
What a great memory to have. <3
Are you going again? Might be a tad bit more difficult with a 3 yr old and a 5 yr old!! Think the service is Wed. I remember you and Kyle going last time.
Post a Comment