The funeral started at 10:00 am (“It is teh early!” I commented upon waking up this morning). The service was packed with people and Joe delivered a wonderful eulogy for his father. Afterwards we piled into our cars for the vehicular cortège to the cemetary.
As we were driving (which seemed like for miles and miles along unpaved roads), Gregory remarked “There's no here here! It's not on the map!” And indeed, we were somewhere, I suppose, still in the state of Florida, but the exact location, I have no idea. We just followed the rest of the cars to the cemetary.
The service at the cemetary was moving. The American Legion Post № 241 [1] conducted the second part of the service; the eulogy of Joe Sr.'s service to his country, presenting the American Flag to Joe's Mom, the 21-gun salute—very powerful stuff.
Final farewells were said, and the scene shifts back to the family farm (nearly everybody changed into causual clothing prior to or just after, arriving) for more food and conversation that lasted well into the night.
[Shooting the breeze] [2] [3]
Left to right: Marty, Joe, Kurt.
[More shooting the breeze] [4] [5]
Left to right: Larry, Gregory, me.
[With so much shooting of the breeze, I'm surprised there was any air left] [6] [7]
Left to right: Joe's Mom, Joe (sitting), Kurt, me, Gregory, Larry, Marty. Except for Kurt, we all knew each other since high school (and I've known Joe since middle school).
Afterwards, Gregory, Kurt, Bunny and I headed over to Joe's house (in Blounts Town, about forty minutes south of the family farm) and hung out for a few hours. Tomorrow, we head back home.
[2] /boston/2009/01/23/thumb.marty-joe-kurt.jpg
[3] /boston/2009/01/23/marty-joe-kurt.jpg
[4] /boston/2009/01/23/thumb.larry-gregory-sean.jpg
[5] /boston/2009/01/23/larry-gregory-sean.jpg
[6] /boston/2009/01/23/thumb.all.jpg