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Darla has said the thank you’s, I will try to talk about saying good-bye.
The St. Louis Metropolitan Police Department did Rob proud. I knew that police look at funerals differently, but I didn’t really understand what that meant. Now, I do. I have, unfortunately, been to more than my share of funerals, and they are sad and bitter things. What Jon and I went to this last week was a celebration of Rob’s life. His brothers spoke of his life, and what they’d learned from him being their big brother. Fellow police spoke, and made us laugh and remember who Rob was and what he stood for.
Was it sad? Yes. Damn bag pipes. I might have held out, except for those.
But this isn’t about the sad, this is about the amazing. We had a sea of uniforms at the church. I have never seen so many police vehicles as I saw that day. It wasn’t just the metro either, but every flavor of police that you can imagine was there, or had talked to Darla and her family in the last few days. It’s been amazing. Darla said it, in her post, brothers and sisters in blue. I’d heard the phrase, but I didn’t understand what it meant, now I do. Or I do, as much as someone can who has never worn a uniform. I was very aware of the fact that no matter how much research I do, I won’t get all of it. I just won’t.
It wasn’t just the police officers that showed their respects. The fire department had two ladder trucks with a huge American flag hanging from them. The flag spanned the road where the procession had to drive, so that we all drove under it. How cool was that?
The head of the procession was all police cars, and the shiny black S. W. A. T. van. When I first met Rob and was doing research for INCUBUS DREAMS, there was no sexy black van. The van was what I described, crowded, and more utility vehicle than armored car. That van was something that Rob got for his guys. He was always trying to get them better equipment, better training, better everything.
Jon and I followed Darla and Jack in the procession, or as close as we could come. Police were there to direct us, as cars had been along the way to the church like lit up bread crumbs to make sure none of us got lost. It’s what the police do every day, they keep the rest of us from getting lost.
There were police cars at every intersection so that the procession wouldn’t have to fight traffic. They closed down 55 south, completely from Broadway to Reavis Barracks. The last person that the high way was shut down for was, I believe, the president. When I say this day was amazing, I mean it.
There were moments on the high way when the road stretched out in such a way that Jon and I could see the head of the procession and all those flashing lights, and behind us, to see more flashing lights that were bringing up the rear. It was miles of cars, not just police, but family, and friends. The only reason you didn’t see it all on the news was that the weather was too bad for the choppers to get airborne.
There were police at every on-ramp keeping back traffic. Some saluted, and I had to fight not to salute back. I have not earned that right, not in anyway, but I saw it, and it meant a great deal.
The graveside is always tough. There were so many people, that only a small fraction could fit under the cover with the family. We stood back, letting the relatives be there. We waited in the cold, with the snow beginning to fall again. We were too far away to hear most of the words of the priest. I was too short to see. Art let us know when the flag was folded and given to Rob’s wife. But something’s we could hear, just fine. There were more bagpipes, and drums. There was a gun salute, and staring straight at the riflemen, I still jumped with the first shot. I always do. The police dogs did not like the guns going off, either. I don’t know why the fact that they barked stands out in my mind, but it does.
Darla and her family came away, and we gave the comfort we could. Then it was time for the wake. I’d never been to a wake before. Carri had to go to work, so we took Pili in our car to meet Darla and Jack at the policemen’s hall. Again, it was crowded, and full of people with stories about Rob. Not just police, but friends that they grew up with as kids. So, the stories ranged from Rob literally saving someone’s life (there were a lot of those), to trouble all the Cooney children got into as kids. I think I now know more stories about Darla’s family than my own. Or maybe they’re just more fun.
At the end of the day, when talking to the family, the word, amazing kept coming up. What an amazing day it was. That is not a word you get to hear at the end of a day from most good-byes. But Rob was an amazing man, and did more in his life than most of us even knew.
I’ve skipped a lot here about talking to the family individually, because that just doesn’t seem mine to share. But it seemed right, and I’ve got permission from more than just Darla, to let you guys know how incredible it all was.