Here is something my brother wrote yesterday after he vistied the Ronald Reagan Library to pay his respects:
[quote=“Benjamin Hopkins”]Yesterday I stood in line with a friend of mine at Moorpark College in Simi Valley, California. We arrived at 6:05pm with little traffic. We followed those in front of us, not being able to see the turns and bends ahead. All we knew was that those wishing to pay their respects to the family of the late President Reagan would gather at the college, and wait to be shuttled to the nearby Ronald Reagan Presidential Library.
Five hours later at 11pm, we found ourselves very familiar with the campus, as the line had snaked for over a mile, two to five persons wide. Our feet hurt. Our backs hurt. We were hungry, not having thought about dinner beforehand. It was the same for the thousands before and behind us, yet I never heard a complaint uttered. What amazed me was how many children were in line with their parents. Even they could understand that what they were a part of was out of the ordinary, where special attention was necessary. I’ve been in public with children before, and this crowd was on their best behavior.
We had plenty of time to step out of line and look at the tables that were overflowing with gifts, flowers, poems, tributes, personal notes of thanks and cards to the grieving Reagan family. Many were from emigrants thanking the President for paving a way for them to find freedom in this great American land. One man had left an original 8x10 signed photograph of his one time meeting with the President, returning the gift with his own heart felt words to the Reagan family. And of course, there were jars, bags and boxes of jelly beans everywhere you looked.
We passed through a security checkpoint at the five-hour mark. There were metal detectors to walk through, and each handbag was searched. My belt must have warranted a wanding. Out of service Metro busses came to pick us up. But there was no rush. Every bus was carefully loaded until all the seats were taken. A few too many boarded our bus, and an elderly couple was left standing. I was touched when a man quickly gave up his seat for the woman, saying, “It just wouldn’t be right for me to sit instead of you.”
The bus ride was 25 minutes to the Library. We waited longer for our chance to unload and join another line inside the entry courtyard. It was 50 yards square with covered walkways around the edges protected by a colonnade. We were ushered in to the right and slowly made our way to the far side where President Reagan’s casket laid in the lobby. The Red Cross lady came by every few minutes with cups of water for the thirsty, and the library docents who must have been up all day long, greeted us warmly. The time was 12:06am. We had waited 6 hours for this moment. The Room was silent. It was about 50 feet square with an open ceiling that looked up to a second story 360 degree balcony. A photographer poked his camera through the blue velvet curtains that closed off the balcony area from the spectacular view below. A large US flag hung down vertically on the far upper curtain. There was also a blue velvet curtain that covered the entire far wall below. The side walls were beige stone with the names of trustees and donors engraved on them. The entrance we had just walked through was mostly glass.
Six service men, honor guards from the five branches of the armed forces, stood guard around the president’s casket. There was a marine centered near the entrance, and another marine opposite him at the far end of the room. This second marine was at the head of the casket, army to the right, coast guard, I believe, to the left, all facing the entrance of the lobby. Opposite them at the foot corners of the casket stood navy to the left and air force to the right. They were young men, all with strong solemn faces. The line was held up exiting, and as we were told that we’d have 30 seconds to a minute in the room, it must have turned into five minutes.
The casket lay on a three foot base which was covered by a black curtain decorated with tassels. A US flag had been draped over it, revealing only its glossy brown lower contours. All the neighborly chatter that helped us bear the previous six hours in line had now turned to solemn reflection. I glanced up to see a woman with her young teenager shedding a tear. I spent the first half of my time in this room noting all the detail. The second half I spent thanking Jesus for His providence and for Ronald Reagan. And I confessed to Him that His ways and thoughts are greater than my own.
An hour later the bus had dropped us off back at the college. We walked the long mile back to our car, passing thousand of others waiting in line for their turn to say goodbye. We reached the point where we had entered the line seven hours earlier, and it kept going for at least another quarter mile. We knew the line had slowed down too and that these people may have to wait nine or ten hours. But we also felt that it would be worth it for them, standing in line with their neighbors to pay their last respects to the Reagans and to hopefully thank the Lord for this great leader.[/quote]
