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Thursday, April 20, 2006

On Disrespecting the Dead

I had sworn to myself that I would (in all likelihood) never talk about Cindy Sheehan again. At first I had thought her "star" in foaming-leftist circles would eventually fall. I waited through the marches, the arrests. I bided my time through her cozying up to dictators like Hugo Chavez. I even expected a semi-reasonable answer to why she hadn't purchased a headstone for her son Casey - the very cause of her "peace protest".

So what does she do? She smears anyone within a thirty mile radius:
I will tell the world why Casey has no marker yet. In the first place, does anyone who is attacking me know how Casey was brought home from Iraq? We picked him up in the United loading dock in a cardboard box and he was off-loaded into a hearse without one honor guard. We had to wait for about a half hour on a curb near the United freight area for his one escort, who rode from Dover Air Force Base in a seat, while Casey was treated as an over-sized piece of luggage. Has anybody held her other sobbing children who are sitting on a curb in San Francisco, waiting for the remains of their big brother to be carried over to the dock by a forklift?

Now, I may be a naive little college student, but I suspect that dead bodies are not delivered in cardboard boxes - especially United States military servicemen and women.

As it turns out, infinitely better-qualified sources went ahead and proved that out.

Every, single consideration could and was made for the respectful return of Sgt. Sheehan's remains. I mean, good Lord, the funeral home paid for the costs of the cemetary burial - they were friends of the Sheehan family!

The unmitigated, repulsive gall of Cindy Sheehan just knows no bounds. She has constructed a new sort of private hell atop of the one she made after her son had died - one where she lives in a world forever discredited, and forever scorned for lying about the funeral of her son.

What kind of madness do we live in to let someone do this to themselves?