Gratitude Monday: Thunder in the streets

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 30^th 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.