Israel O'Bryan - Meeting at the Airport

On Sunday, June 20, 2010, we began the first of two difficult days.

My brother-in-law Israel O'Bryan was killed by a suicide bomber in Iraq on June 11, 2010, and on Sunday, we met the body at the Watertown, SD, airport.

When Tracy, the kids and I reached the airport I began to feel the heartache that had been welling up over the past week. As we turned on the road to the airport, I saw several people gathering, many with flags already, preparing to spread out along the drive.

It was an amazing sight to see the Patriot Guard with their motorcycles lined up, ready to lead the procession back to Wilmot. The variety of people with the guard was moving. From vets of wars past to those that had seen the battlefields of Afghanastan and Iraq.

We waited for at least a half hour for the plane to land, making quiet small talk with family and friends, all knowing the sad reason we were brought together on this airstrip.

At 11 a.m. we could see the plane making its final approach and as it taxied to the terminal, we began to line up. The Patriot Guard formed a column for the casket and the Honor Guard prepared to bring the casket from the plane to the herse.

As the plane door opened, I began to tear up. Though I had not known Izzy as long as some, the fact that he died to protect all of us brought a lump to my throat that didn't go away for some time.

Slowly the casket was lowered to the ground as a friend of Brenna and Israel's deboarded the plan after what I can only imagine was the hardest flight of her life. Brenna asked that she escort the body home, something that showed what the friendship meant.

It was very quiet on the runway, with only the sounds of the wind and the commands of the Honor Guard piercing the silence. After the casket was respectfully placed in the herse, the Patriot Guard guided it to the gate while we returned to our cars.

We watched the motorcycles exit the runway and slowly joined the procession. As we reached the main part of the drive, the sight that greeted us brought tears to my eyes.

People from all walks of life lined both sides of the drive, each one holding an American flag. Older couples stood side-by-side and young children stood with their families, each holding a flag to show their respect to a fallen hero.

It made me proud to be an American and know that each of these people were here, not because they had to be, but because they wanted to be.

As we began the slow journey to Wilmot, we would pass homes where people had come to the end of their driveways. Some had flags, while others simply watched with their hands over their hearts. Each time we passed those people, my heart would swell with pride and thanks for their respect.

Once we reached the Wilmot exit, we paused for a moment so that the Patriot Guard could prepare their bikes to fly American flags and other flags. At the top of the hill, a small group of people with flags had gathered to form a small column, welcoming Israel to his final resting place.

Along the 8 miles to Wilmot, others had gathered, some holding flags, others paying their respects, but when we hit the city limits, I began to openly weep.

Both sides of the road were packed with people holding flags. All the way to the church, there was not a piece of space that didn't have someone there with a flag or a wave. We paraded through town and I would have to believe that everyone from Wilmot that could be there was.

The Patriot Guard formed another line into the church and the Honor Guard brought the body in with great respect.

After a final inspection, we were allowed in. It was a closed casket, but that didn't diminish the feelings that flowed.

My sister Theresa put together an amazing slide show that was played repetedly, showing Israel growing up, him, Brenna and Turner, and his time in Iraq. The one picture of Izzy and I that I know of was in there, making me think back to the first time I got to meet him.

There was lots of hugging and crying, some laughter from remembering stories of Izzy, and a great show of support for Brenna.

She was doing an amazing job of holding it together. The strength she has is second to none.

A short prayer service ended the evening at the church, but we had another long day ahead of us.