I was driving around town yesterday, running errands before my Sunday morning drive to Phoenix. I just happened to be on my way home, not a half a mile away, when the traffic stopped. I didn't know why the street was lined with hundreds of people, many holding flags. There were children and grandfathers standing with their hands clasped and mothers with babies, boys on bikes and skate boards. I wasn't sure what to make of it. Memorial Day had passed, and then I remembered. I stopped my car in the middle of the street as I watched a few dozen motorcycle officers round the corner of Torrance Blvd and head south with their lights on and their faces solemn. Then came his hearse. It was within touching distance of me. I saw his flag draped coffin and I wept. I sobbed.
Joseph graduated from the same high school my daughter attended and the same school where my sister taught for many years. He was so young. He suffered so terribly.
If you are so inclined, here is a guest book where you can leave a message for the his family.
