By Kevin Simpson | The Colorado Sun
A motorcycle escort rumbled slowly along the pavement that cuts through meandering rows of identical white headstones at Denver’s Fort Logan National Cemetery, making its way toward a pavilion where dozens of military veterans converged under a brilliant late April sky for a long-overdue rite.
While bagpipes played, 13 men in crisp white dress shirts beneath black vests bearing patches signifying their military affiliations each accepted a wooden box unloaded from the back of a hearse. Solemnly cradling them in white gloves, some with trembling hands, they delivered sets of cremated remains to a table.
Once the boxes had been laid in a row, a folded American flag next to each, uniformed onlookers snapped a salute. The bagpipes quieted and speakers took their turn bestowing full military honors — and a final resting place — to men who had served their country in wars and peacetime. Men who returned home and fell in love, started families, launched careers, died too young, lived into their 90s.