Words Are Lacking

Dear Editor,

I have struggled to find words to adequately express my own feelings of pride in the good folks in Port St. Joe and gratitude toward all of those who turned out from Marianna to Apalachicola, but nothing that I can think  of seems to do it all justice.

For those who rode, both young and old, it was a wonderful welcome home, and a fitting and proper tribute to those silent heroes, whose names are inscribed on THE WALL.

My one regret is that everyone who filed along both sides of  Costin Boulevard and Long Avenue could not see themselves.  If you didn't ride the full length of the town, you missed a truly amazing sight, an ocean of red, white and blue that was inundated with both cheers and tears.

I cannot possibly recite how many riders have shared with me the double emotional broadside that they felt when they rounded the curve into Port St. Joe -- the poster with Clifford Sims' image, surrounded by friends, and the massive flag that was draped splendidly over the highway.   And, it only seemed to get better as the escort thundered through the sea of well-wishers and patriots.

Whether it was the dignified and respectful salute of NJROTC Commander Marty Jarosz, in his resplendent, crisp dress whites, or the perfectly executed salutes of the elementary school students, all were returned, at least in spirit, and, for the moment, all were joined together as Americans.

Then, I received the attached email from C.D. Mack of the American Legion Riders in Panama City.  This was too good not to share, and I hope that it speaks to the hearts of all who love our great country!   Please print it in full.

Respectfully,

Rodney Herring

Port St. Joe

* Tuesday I was part of the few, the proud, among 420-plus motorcycles escorting the ‘The Wall That Heals' to the wonderful Civil War city of Apalachicola, FL, where the Chattahoochee and  Flint Rivers empty into the Gulf of Mexico.  "The Wall That Heals" - one of four that circulate the USA - is the half-size replica of the Washington, DC Vietnam Veterans Memorial, and this was to be the first  time out of D.C. for this very Wall - brand new, having just been dedicated in  early April.

What an experience to take part in this memorable occasion.  Riders came on this very warm day from all over; up from coastal cities, close-by Florida capital Tallahassee, down from anywhere and everywhere in Georgia, likewise Alabama, gathering in spots here and there to finally at the jumping off place near Marianna, FL.

There were  full-bore American Cruisers, European road machines, Japanese Sport bikes, a  few with sidecars, trikes of all kinds, off road machines and dual-sport rides,  but the majority were the big iron of Harley Davidson and all ridden by both  men and women.

Straight south from I-10 and Marianna, bona fide county Sheriffs' Patrol cars lead while four Vietnam Vets formed the lead escort followed immediately by the 18-wheeler Semi-truck containing the Wall, all others then in trail making an endless line of bikes as far as the eye could see.  Two-by-two, down across the country-side, police blocked traffic at all intersections and busy side-roads while we ran all stop lights to the joy of many.

Honeysuckle, that arching, twining vine or shrub, native to northwest Florida, was the scent of the day as we cruised close to the speed limits, all the while spring and green was everywhere.  In the little hamlets of Oakdale, Sink Creek, Chipola Park, Honeyville, and White City, the folks watched as if witnessing a sudden and unannounced funeral - stopping to  wave, salute, simply stare, wave their flag, or palm across their heart, while the cities of Altha, Blountstown, Wewa, Port St. Joe, and the final city of Apalachicola turned out in mass.  Churches were represented by the large personnel on their grounds, all schools were recessed - the hoards and hoards of children, all ages, lined both sides of the roads to touch a hand, wave a flag, see these motorcycles cruise through the middle of their streets.   Business men and women came out from their buildings, county workmen lined up shoulder to shoulder, the cities fire fighters hung large US flags across the roads high up connected by their respective trucks ladders while police officers stood at attention, signs of "God Bless" and "Thank You"  were everywhere, and in Port St. Joe, where the highway made a ninety-degree  southeast turn, stood a haunting, saluting, magnificently white fully  uniformed towns person, stoic as a statute, oblivious to the heat or the time  it took for eight miles of bikes to pass.  Shot pangs through your heart!  Further down on Long Avenue the procession passed a Vets Rest Home where they and Staff were loudly cheering and waving more signs, then the St. Joe High School - home of the proud Sharks - where yours truly refereed many a football game.  From there it was the short twenty-three mile jaunt on into Apalachicola, the ceremony, lunch, and general ride camaraderie.  Wonderful event.  A privilege to participate.

C.D. Mack

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