I hate this war.
The rain came down on the mourners outside the Old Whalers Church in Sag Harbor yesterday, on groups of people standing in a respectful silence, while inside the building several hundred others filled nearly every pew or stood against the walls.
All had come to pay their final respects to Marine Lance Cpl. Jordan C. Haerter. The 19-year-old grew up in Sag Harbor, had been in Iraq for a month, and died a hero last Tuesday - pushing a fellow marine out of the way and shooting the driver of an explosives-laden truck that was running a barrier and about to crash into dozens of other Marines.
The people inside heard of bits and pieces of Haerter's life from the Rev. Steven E. Howarth: a letter his father had written to him, a snatch of conversation that explained why he joined the Marines, some memories of how he learned to fly a plane before he was old enough to get a driver's license and how as a youngster he displayed determination and resourcefulness.
More than 100 children from the Stella Maris Catholic School down the street from the church stood in blue ponchos in a single line, many holding small American flags in their hands.
Haerter had gone to school there. None of the children were old enough to know him but Janie Peters, the principal, was his elementary school teacher. "We don't forget," she said, a tear on her cheek mixing with the rain.
Next to them, on the street facing the church, about two dozen veterans - each with a large American flag - stood at informal parade rest. They were Patriot Guard Riders, whose members are often invited by families to stand between the mourners and any anti-war demonstrators who may try to disrupt them at military funerals. But yesterday no one came to protest the war.
Inside the church, the flag-draped coffin was carried to the front by a Marine Corps honor guard. Howarth told the crowd what many of them already knew - that when Haerter explained to his parents why he joined the Marine Corps, it was because "it's the hardest" branch of the service.
The minister read part of a letter Haerter's father had given him, to open when he was in Iraq, reminding his son "how proud I am of you for the sacrifice you have made ... you have turned into the man I always dreamed you would become when you were a child."
And Howarth also spoke of sadness, of a poet's realization that the death of a child leaves a hole in the world that nothing can ever again fill. He also talked of the eternal life promised in his religion, the life after death that brings comfort, not immediately for the people who sat in the pews in the old church, but as time goes on.
As part of the service, high school students sang two of Haerter's favorite songs. And, the minister asked the mourners to remember Cpl. Jonathan T. Yale, 21, of Burkeville, Va., who also died in the explosion at the checkpoint in Al Anbar province.
Then he shared the story of how the family of the Marine whom Haerter pushed aside last week came to Sag Harbor on Saturday, just to say "thank you" for their son's life.
Outside the church, all through Sag Harbor, there were flags on display in the rain. And, on the lawn in front of the church, police officers and volunteer firemen and old men in VFW caps all stood, quietly and respectfully, waiting for the services to end.
Shortly after noon, it did. And the church bells sounded, and the Marine honor guard carried the flag-draped coffin down the steps and to the hearse, and Haerter's body was taken to nearby Oakland Cemetery for burial.
RIP Jordan
My mom said that Jordan had a funeral precession from Philly, Pa to Sag Harbor, NY. Over 4,000 people said farewell to the young soldier.
I am so proud of my hometown. I have never known a community to come together like the harbor.
All had come to pay their final respects to Marine Lance Cpl. Jordan C. Haerter. The 19-year-old grew up in Sag Harbor, had been in Iraq for a month, and died a hero last Tuesday - pushing a fellow marine out of the way and shooting the driver of an explosives-laden truck that was running a barrier and about to crash into dozens of other Marines.
The people inside heard of bits and pieces of Haerter's life from the Rev. Steven E. Howarth: a letter his father had written to him, a snatch of conversation that explained why he joined the Marines, some memories of how he learned to fly a plane before he was old enough to get a driver's license and how as a youngster he displayed determination and resourcefulness.
More than 100 children from the Stella Maris Catholic School down the street from the church stood in blue ponchos in a single line, many holding small American flags in their hands.
Haerter had gone to school there. None of the children were old enough to know him but Janie Peters, the principal, was his elementary school teacher. "We don't forget," she said, a tear on her cheek mixing with the rain.
Next to them, on the street facing the church, about two dozen veterans - each with a large American flag - stood at informal parade rest. They were Patriot Guard Riders, whose members are often invited by families to stand between the mourners and any anti-war demonstrators who may try to disrupt them at military funerals. But yesterday no one came to protest the war.
Inside the church, the flag-draped coffin was carried to the front by a Marine Corps honor guard. Howarth told the crowd what many of them already knew - that when Haerter explained to his parents why he joined the Marine Corps, it was because "it's the hardest" branch of the service.
The minister read part of a letter Haerter's father had given him, to open when he was in Iraq, reminding his son "how proud I am of you for the sacrifice you have made ... you have turned into the man I always dreamed you would become when you were a child."
And Howarth also spoke of sadness, of a poet's realization that the death of a child leaves a hole in the world that nothing can ever again fill. He also talked of the eternal life promised in his religion, the life after death that brings comfort, not immediately for the people who sat in the pews in the old church, but as time goes on.
As part of the service, high school students sang two of Haerter's favorite songs. And, the minister asked the mourners to remember Cpl. Jonathan T. Yale, 21, of Burkeville, Va., who also died in the explosion at the checkpoint in Al Anbar province.
Then he shared the story of how the family of the Marine whom Haerter pushed aside last week came to Sag Harbor on Saturday, just to say "thank you" for their son's life.
Outside the church, all through Sag Harbor, there were flags on display in the rain. And, on the lawn in front of the church, police officers and volunteer firemen and old men in VFW caps all stood, quietly and respectfully, waiting for the services to end.
Shortly after noon, it did. And the church bells sounded, and the Marine honor guard carried the flag-draped coffin down the steps and to the hearse, and Haerter's body was taken to nearby Oakland Cemetery for burial.
RIP Jordan
My mom said that Jordan had a funeral precession from Philly, Pa to Sag Harbor, NY. Over 4,000 people said farewell to the young soldier.
I am so proud of my hometown. I have never known a community to come together like the harbor.