The following introduction letter is from Aaron T. from Atlanta, Georgia, to Patriot Guard Riders and is posted here with permission. I found this to be a very moving tribute.
Today I joined close to 100 Americans in an effort to support the family and friends in remembering the life of a person I have never met. Lauren Burk was viciously murdered this past week in Auburn, AL. I know nothing about her other than what the news and internet has told me. She was a person loved by many that left us much too soon in a random act of violence.
Her funeral was held today in Roswell, GA. The sky was a brilliant blue in which I could see the War Eagle soaring through on wide spread wings, letting out its piercing, lonesome cry as its heart ached in loss. The eagle was not alone.
Over 100 members of the community arrived, hearts heavy but spirits united in one voice. We will not let your passing be tarnished. The Patriot Guard, with flags waiting to unfurl, gathered in mass. From first glance they were hard core bikers and accountants. Standing in prideful leather and Woodstock florals waiting to align themselves side by side to impart a single message: Lauren, your passing has not gone unnoticed and it will be as honorable as these humble folks can provide.
Hours before her family was set to arrive at a small Temple on a side street in a sleepy suburb of busy Atlanta, flags were being unfurled. I arrived knowing no one and with one purpose: Do not allow more suffering to be inflicted upon this family; both blood and bond. Unfortunately, a group wanted to do just that. I will not give them name for they do not deserve mention along with the souls I would stand shoulder to shoulder with today.
My Honda Accord looked sorely out of place among the chromed Harleys and Detroit built SUVs. But as soon as my feet hit the pavement, I made eye contact with a kindred spirit. Although I had no idea who he was or what side he stood on. I watched as he and his colleagues pulled American flags out of the back of vehicle, one after the other and I nervously walked forward with an out-stretched hand and introduced myself. I asked if he was here to honor Lauren Burks’ memory….he simply said he was a member of the Patriot Guard. My heart paused….I was with the ‘right’ people. He told me his name, introduced me to the man standing with him and handed me an American flag on a 7 or 8 foot tall piece of PVC. As I looked around, I saw 50 or 60 of them. Then I realized I was standing in the parking lot of a church. Here I was, hoping to protect the family of a young Jewish woman and to accomplish that I was in a church parking lot. I smiled. This is the America I love.
A woman wearing more leather than I own, asked me if I knew how to conduct myself with the flag. My ego said, “Of, course.” But in truth, I wanted her to tell me so that I would properly do it honor. So, I listened to her tell someone else. Do Not dip the flag. Do Not drop the flag. Do Not let it touch the ground.
Now I was in the know. We spread out across the corner that directly faced the synagogue and stood arm length apart. My curiosity had me searching for the mongers we were protecting others from . They were a force that the world had seen and given credence to, but I could not spot them. So I asked the engineer decked out in leather next to me. He said the police would escort them in, limit them to a space behind us. We were the WALL! It all made sense. Our mission was not to confront them, but to negate their presence. And our weapon was the flag. I have a flag flying on my home every day, but the flag in my hand would do more than flutter in the breeze and tangle itself. The flag I held was my weapon to say that my voice would be heard above yours. You can say what you like, but I will say it louder and the flag of MY country will prevail.
SO we stood. For more than an hour we stood. Some never moved more than a few feet as the group spread to accommodate the growing ranks. Others, myself included, stepped back to take in the sight. From the time I arrived until moments before the call to attention was made, our ranks swelled from 50 or so to almost 100. As I looked to my right, three young women had joined us. They may have been 15 years old or possibly 21, either way they wanted to let their voices be apart of the chorus. Lauren, your passing has not gone unnoticed and it will be as honorable as these humble folks can provide.
The captain of the Patriot Guard walked the line. He explained to us, that when the procession with Lauren’s family neared we would stand tall, grip the flag to our right and hold it tight, creating a single banner of over 100 flags, end to end. This would ensure that the family would not even know there were others present that wished to tarnish this most sorrowful moment.
When the moment arrived, not only did we stand tall, we stood proud and respectful. People who had never met each other or Lauren Burk stood, clinched the American flag and provided the grief filled family one moment of clarity. Lauren, your passing has not gone unnoticed and it will be as honorable as these humble folks can provide.
Sure, I am a tough guy. I grew up in the South where men are strong and when need be, a rock. Behind my black sunglasses I cried. I hated that I had to watch others drive past wearing their black suits and dresses praying that our wall would not fail and evil would show itself. Lauren, your passing has not gone unnoticed and it will be as honorable as these humble folks can provide.
I am humbled to have met and been graced by members of the Patriot Guard who perform this honorable duty whenever they are summoned. I am in their debt and soon hope to join their ranks. Hopefully one day we will no longer have to say: your passing has not gone unnoticed and it will be as honorable as these humble folks can provide.
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