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THE FUNERAL FLAG MAN IS FINALLY FOUND -- "My
first
reason for being there is that kid in the box.
My second
reason is to empower these other people who
should
be standing there with a flag like me."

Monika McGillicuddy listens to
Frank Downs as he recounts his confrontation with the Westboro
Baptist Church protesters at the funeral of Army Capt. Jonathan
Grassbaugh April 18th in Hampsted. McGillicuddy had posted a blog
about the event and finally got to meet Downs last Friday. (photo:
BOB LAPREE) |
Story here...
http://unionleader.com/article.aspx?
headline=Funeral+flag+man+FOUND&articl
eId=f25d748b-0a29-4fc4-bce4-3a4c273daa70
Story below:
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Funeral flag man FOUND
By SHAWNE K. WICKHAM
New Hampshire Sunday News Staff
Hampstead – Monika McGillicuddy got to meet her hero last week and, true
to form, he brought her an American flag.
Frank Downs Jr. of Wilmington, Mass., a former Marine, was the man who
held aloft a large American flag and stared down a trio of Kansas
protesters who came to town for the April 18 funeral of Army Capt.
Jonathan Grassbaugh.
"My first reason for being there is that kid in the box," Downs told the
Sunday News. "My second reason is to empower these other people who
should be standing there with a flag like me."
And that's exactly what he did.
Grassbaugh's funeral was held at a church just up the street from
McGillicuddy's real estate office, and she was horrified by the "vile"
words coming from the three protesters who stood on the corner,
McGillicuddy told the New Hampshire Sunday News.
But, as chronicled in last week's Sunday News, and in her own blog,
McGillicuddy's faith was restored by the man with a large flag who
defiantly stood before the protesters, gathering a small crowd.
She never got a chance to thank him or find out his name.
He left her a yellow rose, he explained, "Just to say, 'I still believe
that 99.9 percent of people are good -- and they are. Don't let these
people rock your world and your belief in humanity.'"
On Friday afternoon, they met at last, two halves of a story that has
inspired folks not just across New Hampshire, but far beyond. Joined by
their respective spouses, they arranged to meet at McGillicuddy's
office, where they exchanged a warm hug.
Then Downs, a big man with a bigger smile, presented McGillicuddy with a
small American flag, looking suddenly shy.
"You have a sweet man here," McGillicuddy told Downs' wife, Pamela.
"He's been a hero for so many people."
Indeed, McGillicuddy has had e-mails and postings on her blog from
dozens of strangers.
One of her favorites was an email from Airman First Class Scott
Desaulniers, a Manchester native currently stationed at Ramstein Air
Force Base in Germany who keeps up with news from home by reading the
New Hampshire Union Leader and Sunday News on-line.
"I'm sure like many Americans, I would like to shake the hand of that
man who so proudly held our colors," Desaulniers wrote.
Another soldier emailed McGillicuddy to say that the story, and her
blog, had boosted the morale of the troops.
McGillicuddy wiped away tears as the emotions of that day hit her anew
Friday, the hatred she felt from the protesters she confronted and, even
more powerful, the hope that Downs and his flag inspired. "When you
stood there," she told him, "You were bigger than life."
Some time ago, Downs started attending the funerals of New England
service members who had made the ultimate sacrifice. One of the most
painful was for the son of Downs' best high school friend, killed in
Iraq last month. Downs carries a memorial card for his friend's boy, PFC
John Francis Landry, Jr., with him at all times.
The large flag he carries with him to these "missions," a gift from a
friend who serves in the Navy, once flew over the USS Constitution.
The funeral of Capt. Jonathan Grassbaugh in Hampstead was Downs' first
encounter with members of the organization that calls itself Westboro
Baptist Church. Using extreme language and Biblical references, the
group claims a variety of events, including the Sept. 11 attacks, the
deaths of American soldiers and, most recently, the Virginia Tech
shootings, are God's punishment for America's tolerance for
homosexuality.
►Patriotism prevails over protest
Downs, who served in the Marine Corps from 1977 to 1981, recently joined
the Massachusetts chapter of the Patriot Guard Riders, a coalition of
motorcycle and veterans organizations that formed in direct response to
the Kansas group. PGR members attend military funerals to honor the
troops and support their families.
Patriot Guard Riders from New Hampshire and other states showed up in
force for Capt. Grassbaugh's funeral. Bearing flags, they passed
silently by the Westboro protesters without acknowledging them, members
told the Sunday News previously. They headed for St. Anne Catholic
Church, up the hill and out of sight from the Kansas trio, to honor the
young Army Ranger.
When Downs arrived in town, a Hampstead police officer told him the
other Patriot Guard Riders had moved on to the church. That's when Downs
decided to make his stand on the corner.
"That Captain Grassbaugh, I guarantee you he wanted somebody down there
holding a flag so that everybody going by there saw there were more
people behind me and my flag than there were behind those three people
and their signs," he said.
He understands why the Guard members moved on to the church. "The
Patriot Guard's motto is to stand for those who stood for us. Their
mission statement is to shield the family from uninvited guests," he
explained. "So if the uninvited guests are not going to have the
opportunity to be visible by the family, they're not going to even
bother with them. They're going to honor the dead."
Had the protesters been closer to the funeral, he knows the Guard would
have formed a wall to block the family's view of their signs and voices,
as they have at other military funerals, Downs said.
But he felt someone had to face them down. And he wasn't alone.
At a nearby country store, Downs noticed a group of local residents
watching the protesters "with disgust."
"You're thinking about it, do something," he challenged them. They
joined him on the corner with his flag.
Several students from Endicott College who had come for the funeral also
stood with them. "I've got faith in your generation," he told the young
men.
"I'm going to be an old man and these guys are the ones we're going to
have to count on to wave the flag," he said.
As soon as the protesters left the corner, their permit expired, Downs
moved quickly to the fire station up the street, where he knew the
Grassbaugh family would pass after the funeral. "What else can you do
for people? Let them see a total stranger standing there with a flag."
Downs has two boys of his own, aged 19 and 21. "It makes it hurt even
more when somebody else is burying theirs," he said.
Both sons have flag tattoos and inherited the family's patriotic spirit.
But their Marine Corps dad has forbidden them from joining the military
until they've finished college.
"I don't want to be responsible for depriving them of this feeling that
you get after being a Marine or any service member. But I just didn't
want Bush to get them," Downs said.
"When they're done with their college, if they still feel the call, I
don't blame them. I don't want them to miss this patriotic feeling I
have in my heart."
Downs said he gets his patriotism from his mom, Elizabeth Downs. She and
his dad live next door to him in Wilmington.
Mrs. Downs says she was proud, if not at all surprised, to learn what
her son did that day for the young Army captain and his family.
"He's patriotic down to the bottom of his shoes," she said in a
telephone interview. "It started the day he was born" -- which just
happened to be Veterans Day, in 1958.
Downs said he never expected so much response to his quiet act of
patriotism. "I've got so many people thinking the way I do," he said.
"That's really all it was about."
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Larry Scott --