A Poem by the Shadow

Before I post this I want to mention that the Shadow is a friend of mine, and a great man.  I love his poetry and this one will make you tear up.

------------I AM PROUD

this i wrote in the third person--an observation of what went on in hurricane ,wv on last years RFTW..as follows------------I AM PROUD

By The Shadow

I heard you were coming, coming to Hurricane, West Virginia on your way to the Wall. I came out and I

wandered around the park, watching as the preparations were being made. I heard a familiar noise and looked

up to see an old Huey coming in for a landing in the parking lot. I moved closer, looking and remembering. I

listened to the small talk and heard someone say,---they are at the state line and coming fast.

The Huey sprang to life and I watched as it lifted into the air. I wondered where it was going, and I heard them

say, they are going out to meet the pack and lead them in. I was surprised at this and I began to get excited

along with everyone else there. Soon we heard the chop-chop-chop of the blades and she once again landed in

the parking lot. Someone was calling out the miles, 10--5--1 mile out and when the group turned off at the exit and headed into

the park I made my way to a place where I could see them pass by.

I stood there and saluted you, each and every one of you as you passed by. I looked into your faces and saw the

miles and hours in the saddle. You looked great. And I smiled to myself and thought, I am proud, so proud.!!

That all of you would do this--ride to remember those who have served and those who have paid the ultimate price.

I was there in the dining hall as you gathered to break bread and satisfy a well-deserved hunger. I stopped at

your table and listened to the small talk—the chuckles and the tears. I walked with you as you ate ice cream

cones, with it melting and dripping on your chins and beards. And I walked with you as you headed for your

tents and campers to lay the day’s exhaustion down.

As it got dark I listened to the night sounds creeping in, and stood watch over you as you slept through the

night. And as morning drew near I listened as you stirred, waking, stretching, softly cursing the stiffness you

tried to overcome.

Someone calls out—is there coffee yet? And there is the scent of hot coffee drifting through the morning air. I

remember the taste of hot coffee in the mornings. Ahhhh—it’d be wonderful to share a cup with you. but I shall

be content to stand close by as you pack and repack your gear, for today the much-anticipated ride to Rainelle

and the children is about to start. Oh how I wish I could go with you , but I must remain here. I cannot leave.

I hear the bikes begin to rumble as platoons and lines form. Last-minute instructions go out and I see everyone’s

anticipation building. Again I move to a spot where I can watch you leave and when the signal is given, the sea of

bikes begins moving as one. Again I look into your faces and I come to attention and salute you, each and every one of you, as you pass by.

As a tear rolls off my cheek, I say thank you—thank you for remembering me! I watch you in the distance, riding out of sight, and I feel my chest swell and again I am proud … so proud of you all.


Shadow I am proud of you, you endured pain, and you slept in a tent half the size you needed from Wentzville, MO to Rainelle, WV.  You participated in the greatest mission ever, and you support that mission every day in every way.   You are a great American.  And you ride proud my friend.