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When I was in the 82nd Airborne, one of my side duties was to be in the Honor Guard for military funerals. And boy-- I attended a whole bunch. They were mostly in the back towns of the Carolinas--- I mean the boonies...
Quite a few were for African-American vets. Man those were some great funerals. I remember one funeral where me and 5 other of my comrades were standing at attention--3 on each side of the coffin--while the preacher spoke about the Dearly departed.
All of a sudden the Dearly departed's wife stood up, threw her hands in the air, let out a "Praise God" scream and then rushed the casket knocking me and another soldier on to the casket and almost into the hole it was going in to. She then fainted and was brought back to her seat to revive.
The emotion that African-Americans display at the funerals I attended was something to behold. Heartfelt, genuine emotion.
But what happened next was awesome. The folks would invite the Honor Guard back to their homes for a gathering and celebration of the person that we had just buried. Geaud Dang the food was great.
I watched in awe as they celebrated the mans life with food, drink and memories--- and it was obvious that they were all comforted in the fact that their loved one was in God's hands.
I hope when I die, my funerals are like that.
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