The wicked gets whacked!

$11 million verdict Wednesday against a fundamentalist Kansas church ….Some of you may remember my blog post about when Hate came to my town of Hampstead New Hampshire and the impact that had on me and on my community.

To watch first hand as hate was directed to my community and it’s people, in particular the family of one of our fallen war heroes captain Jonathan Grassbaugh was devastating.

I could not believe these people from a so called church in Kansas would come to my town and stand on my street corner carrying such hate filled signs and chanting such sick phrases. But they did. I couldn’t believe they had the right to…but they did.

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Like a Rock…The Patriot Guard Riders

Sometimes you just need a shove, this is a post that is long overdue. I think fear kept me from writing this…fear of not being able to do the subject justice. Fear of feeling uncomfortable…fear of failure. I dunno maybe a little of both.

Then I saw this video and knew that the right time is right now. Do me a favor and let it play while you read this.

Back in April I wrote a blog post about Hate, some of you may recall it. The NH Blog post itself took on a life of it’s own and exposed me to a whole world that I had no clue existed. The Patriot Guard Riders.

I found out that my little town of Hampstead NH had members that belonged to the Patriot Guard Riders and one of them a woman even documents and takes photographs of the mission rides. This is not a group of guys and gals who are out simply to have fun and ride wildly on their motorcycles.

These are people from all walks of life, many who volunteer their time and take days off from work -unpaid to Stand Tall and be a Rock when we need them.

Some of them may look a little on the wild side but all of them care deeply about doing the right thing…honoring our fallen heroes and protecting their families from further pain.

I didn’t know it then but they act as a human shield during funerals protecting the families from the evil of the protesters. I learned that in my town of Hampstead New Hampshire there were people who were going to make sure that the family of our fallen hero and the mourners were not to be touched by the evil of the protesters. They would be shielded from the ugly reality of this hate.

I learned that day that the Freedom a local boy had fought and died to preserve gave someone else the right to protest and spew hateful things even while his funeral was being held a few feet away.

I watched as the protesters were protected…albeit with great distaste by local law officials. After all…They had a right!

He died so they could have the right to be heard and seen.

My god that tore me apart!

I learned that day what being Patriotic really meant and it was not just waving a flag on the 4th of July or planting flowers on Veterans day.

It is something much deeper and more powerful than can be imagined.

It is the core of some people, it is unshakable…strong and quiet like a Rock.

It makes them stand in the rain, snow and wind enduring the elements while tightly holding a flag. Solid steady like a Rock for hours protecting people that in many cases they don’t even know. They stand there listening to hate filled protesters who carry ugly messages on signs…they listen and look and remain calm like a Rock.

I wrote that day… feeling all the raw emotion of a life shattered and a new awareness of just how ugly people can be. I wrote about a man who came out of nowhere and held a flag…I called him gruffy.

I wrote about how his actions changed the mood of the day on my little street corner. How he rallied the crowd and showed them how to stare the bad guys down.

I’ve learned so much since then about the group of bikers that showed up on that rainy day. Many of them Viet Nam vets, some who came from far away and some from the next street over. Many of them did not know Captain Grassbaugh and that didn’t matter…they were on a mission!

I watched from the safety of my window inside my real estate office as they rode by on the way to church.

They had flags on their bikes…they were called the Patriot Guard Riders, and they showed me the true meaning of word Patriotic!

Like a Rock they stood together holding their flags…OUR flag proudly.

A group of Bikers, that name alone might make some shutter but really they are your neighbors and I found out that some of them are mine.

They are no different than most folks but when the going gets tough and someone needs to be a Rock..shielding grieving families, rain or shine they band together and do it quietly without fan fare…without pay.

I had never heard of them. Have you?

They say on their webs site that Freedom isn’t Free but their membership is.

You don’t need to ride a bike to be PGR member. Please take a moment and visit their website it will change your attitude…perhaps forever about Bikers.

A little History about the Patriot Guard Riders

It all started back in early August of 2005 when a group of American Legion Riders from Kansas heard that a “fallen hero’s memory was being tarnished by misguided religious zealots who were protesting at funerals” and they decided to do something about it.

The Patriot Guard Riders were born.

They came from all walks of life…male, female, long hair, short hair, clean shaven, a weekend stubble or full grown beard, some wore denim and chaps others polyester…no matter what they looked liked…they had one thing in common. They were Patriotic and they cared deeply.

I’d like to say that the rest is history but I know firsthand that the PGR is still relatively unknown and while what they do is so greatly appreciated…the word still needs to be spread.

I think what they have accomplished in a few short years is remarkable.

Currently the PGR memberships stands over 100,000 members strong and from reading a message by Jeff Lockhart on their website I get the feeling that they think the battle has just begun. They still feel helpless…

The statement below are the words of Jeff Lockhart, taken from the PGR website with his permission.

“100,000 strong… and still feeling helpless…”

“The statement above is what I would really like to title this collection of thoughts. Why? Because it’s the first phrase that comes to mind that truly describes who we are – and what we are.

You see, the PGR was founded with the idea of helping the family of a fallen soldier – a hero. Help them get through their grief in peace and surround them with the love and support of a nation that cares about them – and the memory of a hero. The PGR started by focusing on soldiers who were killed in action – but it wasn’t enough. Our membership saw the need to show a veteran who had passed that the PGR cared and loved them as well. In the same vein, the PGR took on the services of first responders – police, and firefighters. Finally… we were doing all we could.

Wrong. Help On the Homefront was established to deliver aid and assistance to troops and their families who were experiencing hardships due to injuries received. Now we’re good to go. Nope. The Fallen Warrior Scholarship fund was created for children of fallen heroes to pursue their dreams of higher education.

Is it ever enough? No… it isn’t. Thus you see the logic of my statement “100,000 strong… and still feeling helpless…”

The PGR rapidly grew in membership because it made sense – it was logical – it was sincere. To this day, these same values drive our mission and our efforts. What makes the PGR such a beautiful organization is the over 100,000 members who all share the same sentiment and ask the same question: “What else can I do?”

What else can I do? What else can I do to honor a man or woman who committed all that they are in this world to serve this country? What else can I do to preserve the honor and memory of a soldier who paid the ultimate price and gave the last full measure of themselves? What else can I do to make sure that they all know I care – it matters… they matter… they truly are special people… heroes to me. ” Jeff Lockhart 2007

I personally know that the PGR do good deeds, so many of them and yet they ask what else can I do? For me that rainy day in April they made a big difference. I’m sure that they made a difference for the family of Captain Grassbaugh and all the other fallen heroes they have protected. What a mission…may god bless them all!

Like a Rock…Jeff’s words can be thrown right back at them…they truly are special people… heroes to me. Patriot Guard Riders…like A Rock!
Captain Grassbaugh Honor Mission

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The Guy with the Flag

Finally the guy with the Flag came forward. Please follow the links below to read the rest of the story! Frank Downs a Patriot Guard Rider member from Massachusetts proudly held our flag during the the funeral services that day.

My “Flag Man found” post.

My original “HATE” post with over 120 comments.

If you visit please read the comments as they are from people all over the country and even overseas.

Flag Man Found

Friday was a pretty emotional day for me.  The guy with the flag and his wife Pamela,who just happens to be a real estate agent in Massachusetts, came to Hampstead New Hampshire to meet me.  If you haven’t read my story about when Hate came to Hampstead please take a few moments and read it so that this will make sense to you.Our meeting was recorded by the Union Leader Newspaper which is the largest newspaper in NH.  They also interviewed me last week about my original Hate post and I posted about that experience on my blog.

Over this last week I’ve had a lot of people e-mail me and comment on my post…all wanting to know who the guy holding the flag was so they could shake his hand and say Thank You. He remained a mystery…no one seemed to know who he was.

This past Monday, he came to my office, Prudential Verani Realty in Hampstead but I was away teaching in Vermont. He left me a yellow rose but no contact information.  The mystery deepened.

Finally he decided to come forward…the guy I called gruffy in my Hate post the guy who held the flag.

He is a member of the Patriot Guard Riders out of Massachusetts and came that day to pay tribute by showing respect for our fallen hometown hero being buried that day.  Mr McGruffy (aka Frank Downs) arrived a little late and experienced for the first time this hateful group of uninvited guests (UG’s) standing on our street corner.

I’m not sure how many Patriot Guard members were in town that day but I do know that the 7 Hampstead members were joined by many more from all across NH and New England. They provided a human shield preventing the family and mourners from seeing the hateful scene being played out down the road.  For that I am so grateful. The thought, that the family might see these people polluting our town was just too much to bare. The Patriot Guard Riders were there making sure that would not happen.

Prior to this I really didn’t even know they existed.  My good friend and fellow NH blogger Ann Cummings had posted about them in her post called Wreaths Across America other than that I knew nothing.  My education was about to begin! Guess what my next post will be about??? The PGR!
This post is about Frank Downs. He gave us something that day, a small act that seemed so big and for those of us on the corner that day he made a difference.

What he did by holding that flag and staring quietly at those hateful people gave us hope.  little things can make a difference…ordinary people can make a difference. Thank you Frank and Thank you to all the Patriot Guard members across the nation… you all make a difference.  (Patriot Guard Riders marching photo courtesy of Arline Grant)

Power of Active Rain-Patriotism Prevails

Power Of Active Rain- Patriotism Prevails over Protest

The Power of the Rain

Last week I wrote a little post about when hate came to my town. While it wasn’t a featured Post…nor widely read by Rainers, it had a life of it’s own.

My little post traveled, far and wide, beyond the borders of Hampstead, New Hampshire. A college student in Newton, Mass. found it and sent the link home to her mother in Hampstead. A woman in Maine who read it, was really touched by it, felt compelled to let me know how it made her feel. She told me that she passed my words on to others as she felt it was something that everyone should read.

I’ve had e-mails from people talking about the impact of my “Voice” and how my post affected them.
Today I’m on the front page of the biggest NH newspaper,The Union Leader and on the front page of their website…so is Active Rain. It was amazing to be interviewed and have the write up be on the front page. I was interviewed by Shawne Wickham and she was excellent.

I’m so honored and touched by the reaction of so many that I don’t know what to say but “thank you” for reading.

Was it The Power of the Rain that sent that blog post beyond my little world. Absolutely! Was it my voice…have I finally found it ? I’m not sure but I think I’m getting closer.

The Power of the Rain…gave me my voice. Then TLW…Billie Tutas started the REALTY Blogging Book Club which helped me find my voice and along with the other lovely ladies of the book club I was able to grow and refine my voice. Active Rain became my learning center…I’ve blogged about Mice and Biker Chicks but writing about Hate was scary. Writing about Hate propelled me outside of my comfort zone. I wasn’t even sure I should post it but Jay encouraged me to do so. I was afraid as it all seemed so personal but I posted it anyway.

I can’t believe the reaction my little Hate post has received outside the Rain.

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Hampstead New Hampshire… a fallen hero and people filled with hate

HATE

Such an ugly word isn’t it?

Maybe I’ve been sheltered but I’ve never really felt that word before nor have I used it. HATE is such a strong lonely word…thinking about it makes me incredibly sad.

Today for the first time in my life I “felt” hate. Hard, Cold, Ugly, Hate and it made me more than sad, it made me mad and it brought me to tears.

My small town buried a war hero on Wednesday, a fallen child, a human being, who fought and died in Iraq. He was newly married and a real nice guy by all accounts. He gave his life and left behind a family who loved him dearly. I didn’t know him personally but I felt the incredible sadness of his death.

This is not a Political/Religious Post nor is it a War Protest post…please I ask that you don’t turn it into such. This is a post about Hate…simply hate.

I had the mid day shift in my office in Hampstead New Hampshire. My office is located right in the center of town…next to a church and school.
The funeral was scheduled for 1 pm. I believe nearly the entire town showed up and then some. At about 11:00 a.m. we were notified that there would be a protest, an anti-war demonstration and that they would be on the public walkway in front of our office.

They had a “right to protest and be heard” and we had no choice as to allow them to do their thing, freedom of speech, public property…they had the right.
To say we were upset puts it mildly…embarrassed that during a funeral of a local boy…people would do this…we just didn’t understand but we were resigned to whatever would happen.

I’ve seen news accounts of these types of things…but the TV was somehow a barrier a safe barrier. I know these things are very real but I never expected this.

It was small scale with only 3 protesters and many more police. I watched from the safety of my window…my insulation slipping away slowly.

I could not believe what I was seeing…what the signs said. I mean someone was being buried here, people, humans had broken hearts here and these people were spewing hateful things for all to see and hear.

Could these people possibly be local people?? I had to find out.
I took out my camera and went outside with another lady. Real ugly hate filled our little street corner. I made the mistake of saying “aren’t you ashamed of yourself doing this?” I can’t repeat what was said back to me by a woman who delighted in verbally attacking me. But I looked hate in the eye today…I’ve never seen what hate looked like, up close like that.

These 3 “people” were flown in by a “church” from the mid-west (Kansas) to spread the word…and it was sickening.

I can’t seem to shake the stench. I’m not sure what they were protesting and the reaction of the towns people was shock and dismay.

Some people drove by blowing horns and some gesturing with their fingers but nothing bothered these people.

Finally a man…very gruff looking came walking up, he seemed to come out of nowhere, carrying a huge American flag and he stood in our parking lot about 15 feet away from the protesters. He stood there holding the flag all alone.

We didn’t know what he was up to…was he one of them? Then the police came and talked to him…he stayed and held that flag tightly. Suddenly, other people joined him in our parking lot and they stood together with his large flag between them. They just stood quietly by, while hate was delivered in their direction.

Our parking lot crowd grew, the protesters seemed to shrink, maybe it was all my imagination but they seemed to get smaller.

Pride filled my heart, even while it was breaking, for the pain this group of protesters were causing.

After a while an officer went over to the protesters and they packed it up…apparently they only had a permit to protest an hour and a half. Then the people in our parking lot started to dissipate and our Admin. Pat went out to thank the big guy holding the flag. He told her all we can do is out number them.

Hate…what a waste of an emotion. I saw hate today and it was as ugly as I had imagined it to be. But, I have never heard nor imagined that such disturbing rantings could come from the mouths and hearts of fellow human beings. The stench is overwhelming and the sadness is suffocating. They left a part of me that will never be the same.

But the man with the Flag, he made me proud…I wish I knew who he was. I bet he was a local guy!