It’s amazing how so much can happen in such a short period of time. On Feb 26, Kevin told us that Joe Comer (Herkybirdman) had a stroke, and was in hospice care. On Mar 1, Kevin told us that Joe was flying without wings. And on Mar 4, he was laid to rest. I promised my fellow TDBers that I would post about that, but I’ve found myself curiously reluctant to do so, as if publishing this piece makes it all final, and drives home the reality that our friend Joe won’t be posting here anymore.
I left Atlanta between 8 and 830am on Sat, heading southeast to Joe’s small town. I had contacted the funeral director (didn’t want to bother his family) to find out the details of where and when, and he gave me excellent directions, and asked me to find him when I got there, and introduce myself.
Saturday was beautiful – the sky was that clear blue that you get on days that start chilly and warm up nicely, with no clouds to mar its beauty. I kept thinking it was a great day for flying – I know that’s what Joe would have said. And that reminded me of my favorite picture of him, that he posted one time on his own blog (and possibly here, as well).
It was easy to forget why I was heading southeast, on such a beautiful day. Eventually, after another stop to stretch my legs, I turned off on the state route that would lead to Joe’s town, and enjoyed several miles of back-roads Georgia scenery before arriving at the church.
It was time for me to swallow hard, take some deep breaths, and remind myself that I’m an adult. I don’t know that I’ve ever before attended a funeral where I had never met anyone involved. But I *knew* Joe, even if we’d never met in real life, just like I know Timmer & Kevin & Sgt Blondie & Sgt Mom. We share ourselves in our writings, here, and we form community, and this is the power of the internet, and the value of the information superhighway. In our fragmented society, we form bonds that are not bound by the laws of geography, but only by the laws of love and caring. And we are the better for it.
So I swallowed hard, took some deep breaths, and headed into the church, to find the funeral director. He was thrilled to see me, and told me to make sure that I introduced myself to Nurse Jenny & the family. I promised I would (it’s why I came, after all, but my hidden shyness was trying to reassert itself).
Joe’s casket was at the front of the church, flanked by flowers and plants. An easel stood next to the head of the casket, bearing a photo collage – Joe as a youngster, Joe in the Air Force, Joe with his family. In the center of the collage was a photo of Joe in a cowboy hat, looking very happy. Below that picture, neatly printed out, was a poem. Although I couldn’t see the words from where I was standing with Mr. Stewart, I had a hunch that I knew what poem it was. My hunch was correct – every family member I met told me that they had printed out “Flying Without Wings” and put it in the photo collage. They loved it, as they loved all our posts, and our obvious affection for their beloved Joe.
As Mr. Stewart was escorting me to Nurse Jenny, he stopped beside a young man who looked barely old enough to shave. Mr. Stewart said: “This is Joe,” and it took a minute to sink it that he meant Joe JR, our Joe’s son.
I introduced myself, and he shook my hand and smiled politely, until I said “A Proud Veteran” – then I was pulled into a fantastic hug. (That was when I stopped worrying about whether I was intruding on the family). We clung to each other for a minute or two, sharing tears, and then he took my hand and pulled me over to where the rest of his family was sitting, and I got to meet Nurse Jenny.
Oh, I wish you guys could have been there. No wonder Joe was so in love with her… she’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever met in my life, and every inch a lady.
We cried on each others’ shoulder for a minute or two, as well. I wanted to just hang onto her until her pain eased, trusting that my encircling arms were joined by those of all the TDBers who were thinking of them on that day.
Then I met “Daddy’s Little Girl,” Joe’s daughter Sheri, and her relatively new husband, also named Joe.
Finally, just before the service was due to start, I approached the casket, and gazed for the first and last time on the face of my friend. After a brief pause, I centered myself, stiffened to attention, and saluted what was now just the shell of my friend, lying under the flag he loved.
The service was everything you would expect for a man who truly loved his God and believed wholeheartedly in his God’s promises.
Joe’s online activities were mentioned, included blogging (the pastor said “I can’t tell you what blogging is, but I know Joe loved it.” ). His love of flying was also mentioned, as well as his love for his family, and for the world around him. I think I remember hearing the pastor say that Joe’s online friends had been a source of comfort for his family this week – I *know* I heard each of his family members tell me so.
They were so touched by our various posts, and the responses to them by our readers. They said Joe would have been so proud, if he knew. I told them he knows. 🙂
After the service, I met most of the rest of Joe’s family, shared hugs and tears again, and got my picture taken with Nurse Jenny. Joe Jr. took the pics, and I got camera envy. He has the next generation of my digicam, and it’s awesome. So is he, for that matter. Joe had every right to be proud of his kids and his grandkids – the ones I met were top-notch.
The interment was about 30 miles away, with no processional, so I followed Joe’s family. They’re good leaders, and I’m very grateful, because we were in small-town backwoods areas, and I had no idea where I was, where I was going, or how to get from point A to point B.
Joe was buried with full military honors provided by an Air Force honor guard from Robins AFB. I used to be a member of my base’s honor guard, so I stood where I could see them remove the casket from the hearse, fold the flag, and fire the volleys. I could also see the bugler, tall and proud as he sounded Taps.
I wanted to stay longer, and visit more with the family, but I had a 3-4 hour drive ahead of me, so after another round of hugs, and another batch of directions, I headed out.
Nurse Jenny hasn’t been able to find words to describe how blessed she’s been by our honoring Joe here at TDB, but I’m telling you folks… every post or comment you made here was like a virtual hug for them. There is an inexpressible comfort just in knowing that someone cares. Our caring comforted and nurtured them, and reminded them that they’re not alone, that others share their loss, and their grief.
Thank you for those posts, my friends. Thank you for finding the words and images to convey your thoughts, and sharing those thoughts “out loud,” so Nurse Jenny & her family could be blessed.
And thank you, Nurse Jenny, Joe Jr, and Sheri, for so graciously receiving a virtual stranger, and making her feel like an honored guest.
And thank you, Joe Sr, for flying along with me on Saturday, keeping me company all the way to your small town, and to your cemetery. I know it sounds crazy, but I could almsot see you, gliding between your family’s car and mine. After all, it was a great day for flying.
