Sunday, after church, Jen, Miss Daisy and I went into Bemidji to help welcome home the troops. It was a very emotional moment. Paul Bunyan Drive was shoulder to shoulder people from the bridge, by Paul and Babe, to the University Field House, where the ceremony was held.
It started at Ft. Ripley and yellow ribbons were tied around trees, banners and signs were wired to overpasses and nailed to wooden stakes and stuck in the ground. It all started south of Brainerd. Three days earlier women were out tying yellow ribbons on sign posts along the highway from Ft. Ripley to Brainerd. At the beginning of their journey the local radio station, 98.3, sent their representative down to ride the bus home with the troops. Speakers, for the troops to listen and a remote for the DJ to work were hooked up in the bus. During the trip patriotic country and traditional music was broadcast. Between the songs folks called in and recorded messages from loved ones were placed so that the troops and the listening audience could share in the happiness.
As the escorted bus entered Brainerd the troops were met by Middle Americans lining the streets. These weren’t the troops home town folks, but up here were consider folks neighbors who live in lake country. As they traveled through Brainerd, Baxter, and Nisswa their procession grew. When they went through Pine River it looked as if every man, woman and child had lined the highway in their honor, and every town that followed did the same. Then there was La Porte, population 145. The radio announcer was stunned because close to 500 people lined the street that does a double ninety through that small rural town. As each town was passed through more and more motorcycles joined in the procession. The Patriot Guard was there. This time they weren’t somber; this time it wasn’t a funeral, it was a joyous happening.
The word was shouted up and down Paul Bunyan Drive, in Bemidji, “the bus had crossed Highway 2 and was coming down Washington.” Anticipation grew and hearts raced. All who had been sitting got up and crowed close to the edge of the street. Thousands of home folks had come in droves and lined that street in Bemidji, from Babe, the blue ox to Bemidji State University, with their flags, hankies and signs. A hush fell over the crowd as ears strained to hear the first faint wails of the escort’s sirens. Little children fervently waved flags as the siren screaming, lights flashing police cars came into view over the bridge along Lake Bemidji. The time had arrived. Their bus, escorted by State Patrol, County Sheriff’s deputies, Bemidji police, fire personnel, and more motorcycles then most had ever seen at one time, arrived about 3 p.m. at the south end of town. As loud as the sirens and motorcycles were, the cheer that rose from the crowd could be heard above it all.
In a little more than 3 minutes it was over. The troops had arrived at John Glas Field House where dozens of Patriot Guard members stood at attention, and the smiles of family members outshined the warm summer sun. Our children had returned to us.
The home folks from Bemidji and her surrounding communities gathered up their chairs, signs and flags and slowly returned to their cars and homes. A small red, white and blue, bow tied ribbon tied to a sign in the middle street softly fluttered in the aftermath as the crowd meandered across the street. The feasting would be great this night.



We, way up nort here, feel this way about all of our troop, you betcha. God Bless All of you.