In early 2012, executive director Jenny Cauhorn shared the news of a wonderful opportunity for our summer seminar participants to ring the national anthem at a Cincinnati Reds baseball game. I was pretty excited about this because I love baseball, and I had never participated in anything like this.
The idea was to have hundreds of ringers spread out on the field, much like a marching band. To help facilitate, there would be three conductors working to keep everyone together. Jenny asked if I would be one of those conductors.
A few months later, I celebrated my 22nd year of service at First Baptist Church in Columbia, Missouri. Sterling was one of the kids born just after my arrival at the church. I watched him grow up. He was such a delight! If ever there was a child who ran to the beat of a different drummer, it was Sterling. He was inquisitive, helpful, encouraging, and quiet. There were times when you didn’t know what he was thinking, and then there were times when he would come up with suggestions that made you wonder why you’d never thought of that. He was a black belt in karate, an Eagle Scout, a goth (for a time with painted fingernails), and a lover of the great outdoors. Once he finished high school, he wasn’t sure what was next. But eventually, Sterling made the decision to join the Army.
The decision to join the Army was a bit of a surprise for a calm and peaceful soul like Sterling, but he jumped in and worked hard. He bulked up and worked to be the best possible soldier he could be. We received word in early 2012 that his unit was to be deployed to Afghanistan. Even though things were quieter in Afghanistan at that time, it was never a safe place to be, so we sent up many a prayer for his safety and the safety of our troops.
By early July, Seminar travel arrangements were set, the music for the national anthem was in hand, ringing positions were assigned, and music was being memorized. There was definitely a buzz about the chance to ring at the ballgame.
On July 11, 2012, I received a phone call from Sterling’s grandmother to inform me that Sterling’s unit was patrolling the Kandahar province of Afghanistan when their vehicle ran over an IED (improvised explosive device). Sterling was killed instantly; several others were severely injured. You never expect a phone call like this, and to this day, I wish that it had never happened.
Seminar seemed less important to me all of a sudden. I thought about skipping the seminar altogether, but the funeral date had not yet been determined. I had my tickets, so with a heavy heart, I packed my bags and headed for Cincinnati. Once I learned his funeral service was set for Saturday, July 21, I planned to conduct at the ballgame on Friday and head home for the funeral Saturday morning.
On Friday of Seminar, all the ringers gathered in a large convention foyer to practice the anthem. I don’t think it hit me until that moment that this was to be the beginning of a whole host of emotions that clouded my soul.
Prior to leaving for Cincinnati, Sterling’s family, representatives from the Army, civic leaders, and our ministry team began the process of making plans for Sterling’s memorial service. The support of the Army and our community was overwhelming.
Finally, the seminar ringers loaded the buses and travelled to The Great American Ball Park, Cincinnati’s home field. As they say, we did the hurry up and wait routine. After a lengthy wait, we made our way onto the outfield warning track. The ringers were spread out from right center field to right field. We waited on the track while ball players warmed up and the field was prepped for play. When we got the cue to begin, Lee Afdahl, Dave Weck, and I began to direct the ringers. Not only did we ring, but also we sang at the same time. I can remember thinking only of Sterling and those others who had sacrificed their lives so that we could be free. I had goose bumps—I had tears. It was an experience I will long remember, made more poignant by the loss of a dear young man.
The next morning, still emotionally raw, I boarded the plane to fly home for the funeral. While on the way, I received word that heavy funeral traffic and media would prevent me from parking anywhere near the church. I was encouraged to park at the university and walk to the church. You see, we had received word that the radicals of Westboro Baptist Church were sending representatives to protest the funeral. To counteract this and to shield Sterling’s family from any contact with this group, approximately 3,000 people from Columbia and from other communities across our nation arrived wearing red shirts. They formed a barricade that brought people together to support this family in their time of grief. It was 90 degrees, but the streets were lined with people in a silent memorial that lasted nearly three hours, not leaving until after the hearse began its procession to the cemetery.
The funeral was, of course, sad and optimistic. Sterling was an American hero, but his life was over way too soon. Through the years, I have looked back at this experience and have marveled at how these two memories intersected. The Star Spangled Banner would have been an amazing experience under any circumstances, but my thoughts of Sterling will forever intersect with this happening. It wasn’t just a wonderful handbell experience; it was a proud and patriotic moment of joy, freedom, and grief. To Army Specialist Sterling Wyatt, thank you. To all other heroes who have sacrificed for us, thank you.
Let me know how your handbell experiences have intersected with other aspects of your life, or contact me just to talk about Sterling. I’ll be glad to hear from you.
Ed Rollins [email protected]
Ed Rollins President |
