Today was a beautiful early fall day in New England. The air was crisp, the sun was bright, and the sky, the most beautiful blue you can imagine. It was the perfect day for the Military Funeral I attended this morning for an old soldier, a friend of my dad's and some one I have know most of my life. As we all walked behind the horse-drawn caisson to the cemetary, I felt this was a perfect day for honoring this man who had survived for 96 years. As the crack of the three Garands rang through the air, most of those in attendance, civilian all, jumped visibly. Our flag was folded, as it always should be, with honor and dignity. As Taps sounded plaintively through the beautiful day, I was carried back to my own father's funeral, something that happens to me everytime I hear Taps and I felt him standing beside me offering a salute to his old friend and comrade in arms. It was a good day to say goodby to an old soldier. Rest in Peace General Brodersen.