Justin was 21 years old when he and seven others were killed in an ambush in Afghanistan a few days ago. Justin left a wife, a father, and many other family members and friends. Yesterday, I attended a Patriot Guard Riders flag line mission in honor of Justin near Tampa Florida, a 220 mile (354 kilometers). 52 bikes and five cages turned out to honor this hero.
Today was service and burial at Florida National Cemetery. Mae Lyne and I both attended the mission. The funeral was near Tampa with an escort to Florida National Cemetery, a distance of about 40 miles. 75 bikes escorted the procession to FNC where 55 more bikes and riders were waiting with 3ft X 5ft American flags.
After the three rifle volleys and the mournful playing of taps by the US Army Honor Guard and following the presentation of the casket flag to Mrs. Coleman, Mr Coleman's (the dad), best friend read the following poem. This poem was written by a young woman who did not personally know Justin; but know him from what she had read. But she definitely has a true feeling for the military.
A TRUE SOLDIER
A little boy was born one day and grew to be a man.
His career was uncertain; but he had no concrete plan.
He wanted to go to college; but the money wasn't there,
And to be a loafer, Justin wouldn't dare.
He chose to join the Army to be all that he could be.
To show his love of country, and to help keep her free.
He went through basic training enduring the drill and the grind,
And furthered his education with a special goal in mind.
Holding steadfast to his faith, allowing God to lead the way,
He became and ordained minister and often stopped to pray.
When orders cam for Justin to fight in foreign lands,
He asked, God safe;y keep me in your loving hands.
He bravely faced his duty in Afghanistan,
Where life is so uncertain and you dare not trust any man.
Soldiers group together in this world so far from home,
Where things are so very different from the life that they have known.
Strangers become brothers; they watch each others back.
They give no though or whining to the comforts that they lack.
They cross unknown territory, enormous weight upon their back,
Where the enemy lay hid just waiting to attack.
While on a special mission Justin's spirit quickly soared,
When an angel came to guide him through the gates at Heaven's door.
God welcomed Justin home with a gentle warm embrace.
His soul was filled with peace; danger never again to face.
And though this Solder's laid to rest, he still has things to do;
He'll join the choir in Amazing Grace and walk each step with you.
He'll stand guard as you are sleeping and watch over you each day,
And pray that you find comfort until you pass his way.
The meaning of a hero has gotten lost along the way;
A her9 is not an athlete that makes a living while at play.
A hero is a SOLDIER looking out for you and me,
Fighting for our country to preserve our liberty.
Our freedom is a gift forged by bravery and pride.
Many soldiers fought for it and many soldiers died.
As you enjoy your freedom, let Justin's memory live on;
Pray for those still fighting and those already gone.
Leaving on a mission, can't say more.
If you want more details, I'll tell you at heaven's door.
Written by Annie Brown Bonnett
Today was service and burial at Florida National Cemetery. Mae Lyne and I both attended the mission. The funeral was near Tampa with an escort to Florida National Cemetery, a distance of about 40 miles. 75 bikes escorted the procession to FNC where 55 more bikes and riders were waiting with 3ft X 5ft American flags.
After the three rifle volleys and the mournful playing of taps by the US Army Honor Guard and following the presentation of the casket flag to Mrs. Coleman, Mr Coleman's (the dad), best friend read the following poem. This poem was written by a young woman who did not personally know Justin; but know him from what she had read. But she definitely has a true feeling for the military.
A TRUE SOLDIER
A little boy was born one day and grew to be a man.
His career was uncertain; but he had no concrete plan.
He wanted to go to college; but the money wasn't there,
And to be a loafer, Justin wouldn't dare.
He chose to join the Army to be all that he could be.
To show his love of country, and to help keep her free.
He went through basic training enduring the drill and the grind,
And furthered his education with a special goal in mind.
Holding steadfast to his faith, allowing God to lead the way,
He became and ordained minister and often stopped to pray.
When orders cam for Justin to fight in foreign lands,
He asked, God safe;y keep me in your loving hands.
He bravely faced his duty in Afghanistan,
Where life is so uncertain and you dare not trust any man.
Soldiers group together in this world so far from home,
Where things are so very different from the life that they have known.
Strangers become brothers; they watch each others back.
They give no though or whining to the comforts that they lack.
They cross unknown territory, enormous weight upon their back,
Where the enemy lay hid just waiting to attack.
While on a special mission Justin's spirit quickly soared,
When an angel came to guide him through the gates at Heaven's door.
God welcomed Justin home with a gentle warm embrace.
His soul was filled with peace; danger never again to face.
And though this Solder's laid to rest, he still has things to do;
He'll join the choir in Amazing Grace and walk each step with you.
He'll stand guard as you are sleeping and watch over you each day,
And pray that you find comfort until you pass his way.
The meaning of a hero has gotten lost along the way;
A her9 is not an athlete that makes a living while at play.
A hero is a SOLDIER looking out for you and me,
Fighting for our country to preserve our liberty.
Our freedom is a gift forged by bravery and pride.
Many soldiers fought for it and many soldiers died.
As you enjoy your freedom, let Justin's memory live on;
Pray for those still fighting and those already gone.
Leaving on a mission, can't say more.
If you want more details, I'll tell you at heaven's door.
Written by Annie Brown Bonnett
