Today is Memorial Day,
which means that yesterday the area around DC reverberated to the roar of
motorcycles of Rolling Thunder. It was, in fact, the 30th anniversary
of the event formally known as the Rolling Thunder Run to the Wall, in which
thousands of men and women (but, to be fair, mostly men) ride their choppers to
the Vietnam Memorial on the National Mall.
There’s a bit of an
outlaw feel to this commemoration. As, I suppose, is only right: the event’s
mission is to keep alive the memory of the POWs and MIAs of the Vietnam War, a
mission that seemed from the beginning to resonate in biker clubs.
Last year I lived
within a stone’s throw of the Pentagon, where the riders gathered in their
thousands in preparation for the run on the Sunday before Memorial Day. It’s a
stunning sight, even if you think you’re prepared for it. This year, on
Saturday I was running errands in Fairfax and came across clusters of bikers
gathering at a parking lot so as to be able to form ranks to ride in to
Arlington on I-66. Kind of like a defiant funeral cortege.
The hair and beards are
greyer now, but the resolve is not one whit weakened by time or age. And
younger riders dot the ranks to carry on the tradition.
Here’s video from this
year’s run—frankly, the music sucks, and I wish they’d just left the sound of
the engines, but it still gives you an idea.
Last year, the bikers
came to Arlington National Cemetery the next day to pay their respects to their
comrades. I got a few shots that give you an idea:
This year, when we have
someone holding titular command of all armed forces who’s spectacularly
unqualified to send men and women into harm’s way, and to care for them after
they return, I’m grateful for the roar of Rolling Thunder, and the riders who
refuse to go gentle into any dark night.
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