It's not uncommon for a Patriot Guard Rider to travel hundreds of miles on a motorcycle to attend a stranger's funeral.
The commonly leather-clad members attend military burials as an honor guard, volunteer at veteran organizations and greet troops who are returning from their tours. On many occasions, they present themselves as a family for those who don't have any left.
"You want to honor their loved ones for their service to our country," Patriot Guard Rider Lynn Vaughn said. "We're going to be there for them, even after the service."
The group emerged in 2005 as a response to Westboro Baptist Church protests, which asserted that divine retribution was the cause of soldiers' deaths in Iraq and Afghanistan. Motorcycle fleets became a shield for people attending these ceremonies and, eventually, became an all-encompassing entity to honor fallen service members and first responders — even police canines. The nonprofit has 50 chapters nationwide.
The only requirement to join the Patriot Guard Riders' group is to have respect for those who served in the military, according to Vaughn. He said members don't have to be a veteran, know anyone who served or even ride a motorcycle — a staple of the group's image. The best way to help is to volunteer time, rather than donate money, he added.
Mary Astrid of Centralia is a "cager," meaning she acts as a support vehicle that carries all the necessary equipment for the motorcycle fleets. Tall flag poles are difficult to haul on two wheels.
Since joining the group in 2014, Astrid can precisely recall the missions where she experienced chills from hearing "Taps" ring through the somber atmosphere. Riders, including herself, normally hide their tears behind sunglasses, she said.
"It's personal, because it makes you relive your own experiences and your own loss," Astrid said.
Astrid's family held onto generational trauma from the death of her uncle, a 19-year-old World War II soldier who was captured by enemies and died while imprisoned. They didn't explain their grief and let the silence take its toll, she said.
"It passed on such sadness and sorrow that they just seemed to stop living, and my treatment for me has been helping veterans," Astrid said. "That's what helped me."
Vaughn, who served in the Marines and Army Reserve for 30 years, joined the organization shortly after its inception. He was attending a funeral service in Portland for a soldier who died and crossed an unfamiliar group holding American flags near the chapel's entry. The Patriot Guard Riders pointed Vaughn to "the big ugly guy inside," or the ride captain, and he signed up later that night.
During his membership, he assumed the ride, district and assistant state captain roles and admitted that the work can lead to burnout, especially for those with full-time jobs. Yet it doesn't feel like an overwhelming task because it makes him feel "right."
"By being right, I simply mean being present for a veteran that you never knew, but he knows on that day that you were there and that you cared," he added.
A family can request the Patriot Guard Riders' presence at a ceremony, which are forwarded to a regional chapter where the ride captain can formulate the "mission." The volunteer honor guard will do as much or as little as the family wishes, Vaughn said.
Pamela Sander, a Patriot Guard cager, and her husband entered the fleet shortly after the group was established. The couple, both without military experience, wanted to show their gratitude for service people. Sander said she witnessed many touching moments, but the most memorable were in harsh conditions — standing for hours outdoors while frigid wind and snow swirled around them.
"My entire body was trembling from the cold and the wind, and our flags were standing out straight with the stiffness of the wind," Sander said, recollecting a soldier's winter homecoming. "I just kept reminding myself: yes, I'm miserable, but this is absolutely nothing compared to what our soldiers have gone through."
Sander participates in as many missions as she can and sometimes brings along her grandchildren, hoping that they may be interested in becoming a Patriot Guard Rider when they're older.
"I would love to see the balance flip where there are more civilians (in the group) than there are veterans," she said.
