People started to gather yesterday morning before 9:30, staking out their spots along Fulton St., where the funeral cortege for President Gerald R. Ford — one of Grand Rapids’ own – was scheduled to pass sometime after 1 p.m. on its way to the funeral service at Grace Espiscopal Church in East Grand Rapids.
I work in Davenport University’s Peter C. Cook Building on the corner of Fulton and Prospect, where our second-floor office windows overlook Fulton St. Our parking lots were barricaded, and only cars bearing employees and Boy Scouts in uniform were allowed in. Our building doors were locked as well, but bystanders were directed to the student Welcome Center in the building next door if they had "personal needs" to take care of.
I’d read in a Google news alert that Boy Scouts would be lining up along the processional route in front of the university, and as the morning wore on, hundreds of Scouts gathered. They hoisted flags — American flags and those bearing the names and towns of their packs and troops — up and down both sides of the street. Others came, too: Parents brought their children out, and the young ones played tag and ran around on the banked lawn of the Cook Building while the older ones stood, hands in pockets, talking in small groups.
Upstairs in our offices we tried to work, but we kept wandering over to the windows, looking down at the growing crowd. A television was on in the conference room and some watched streaming video on their computers, keeping tabs on the goings on so we wouldn’t miss the cortege when it finally passed by.
Just before 1:00 I took my camera down and stood on the lawn with my coworkers. It was a beautiful warm-for-January day. Forty-some degrees and sunny.
Then, it must have been around 1:30, the police escort leading the procession came slowly past, headed east on Fulton, lights flashing. They were followed by a slow procession of shiny black vehicles bearing family members and dignitaries. Then the first hearse. And a few cars later, a second. An astonishing, respectful hush came over the crowd — even the smallest children stopped their games and were quiet. Flags of all sizes fluttered in a light breeze. Spectators stood, some at attention, some with their hands over their hearts. And the hundreds of Scouts stood still, smartly saluting as the cars rolled slowly on.
After the last car passed and was well up the street, a quiet applause broke out, and some turned to go. But most — especially the Scouts — simply broke rank and resumed waiting as they had been. They’d repeat the entire scene again some two hours later when the cortege passed by again, this time headed west to the place where Mr. Ford would be laid to rest, on the grounds of his library and museum, overlooking the river in his home town, Grand Rapids.
