<p>Gen. Downing (USMA 1962) was layed to rest at the West Point Cemetary today.</p>
<p><a href=“http://dailynightly.msnbc.msn.com/archive/2007/07/19/278621.aspx[/url]”>http://dailynightly.msnbc.msn.com/archive/2007/07/19/278621.aspx</a></p>
<p>dude he died in july…</p>
<p>Jesus:
Dude, --that is correct, but there was a service and burial at West Point Sept 27—Brian Williams of NBC covered it on NBC nightly news. That evening’s broadcast was direct from the Plain at the academy–</p>
<p>"The Long Gray Line Posted: Thursday, September 27, 2007 4:53 PM by Sam Singal
Categories: Brian Williams
By Brian Williams, anchor and managing editor</p>
<p>We gathered today at West Point for a farewell to Gen. Wayne Downing, with full military honors. Posted below is what I wrote following Wayne’s death. Today we gave our friend a fitting military tribute, accompanied by some great and heroic warriors. Following his burial, after the sound of 17 cannon rounds were fired out over the Hudson River Valley, the stillness of the gravesite was broken only by the sound of a passing train – on the very same tracks that carried Wayne Downing here for the first time on June 6th, 1958. </p>
<p>We hope you can join us for our broadcast tonight, from the grounds of the U. S. Military Academy.</p>
<p>The following is Brian’s blog entry about his friend Wayne Downing from July 19, 2007</p>
<p>There’s a long list of people who say they are alive today thanks to retired U.S. Army four-star General Wayne A. Downing, and my name’s on it.</p>
<p>When his mighty heart stopped beating early Wednesday morning, America lost a warrior, a patriot and a public servant. I lost a traveling companion, teacher, protector and friend.</p>
<p>Word of his death unleashed a torrent of emotion from the ranks of the normally stoic community of warriors. Within minutes, postings to our blog started coming in, from members of the military and civilians alike, from men who had served with him and people who had never met him. To read them is to be inspired, truly, by the power and sway one individual can have over American life. Hour after hour, our electronic gathering place has become the guest book for those who feel the need to talk about a man of so many facets: a diminutive giant, gregarious yet discreet, a soldier who taught us so much about humanity. It’s not so much a testament to the power of the Internet as it is to the power of a life in service to this country."</p>
<p>Not everyone is buried within a week of their death.</p>
<p>He seemed to be a great man, very good article. Thanks for sharing.</p>
<p>I suspect the funeral and burial at West Point was timed to coincide with the 45th reunion of the class of 1962, of which he was a part. Over 200 of his classmates were on hand to bid him farewell.</p>
<p>The author for the excerpt below is a classmate of Gen Downing with the class of 1962. I met him while he was doing research for a book he is writing on the 28 members of the West Point class of 1862, of which my GG Grandfather was a member.</p>
<pre><code> The Cadet Chapel, West Point, September 27, 2007
</code></pre>
<p>The Cadet Chapel was jammed. The lower panels in the high stained glass panels were open, but not enough to clear the air. Generals and ex-generals filled the front pews behind Wayne’s family. General Mahaffey, now an NBC news analyst, the Superintendent, the Commandant and the Dean. The NBC news team– Brian Williams, Lisa Meyers, Anne Curry and the video crews that had gone to Iraq with General Downing were all there to pay tribute to a fallen hero and friend. Representatives from each of the Special Operations Commands were present. Most were in civilian clothes this time – the varied uniforms of the memorial service in Peoria not as evident. </p>
<p>The Class of 1962 and their wives filled almost half of the Chapel. We had come by car, bus and train from various parts of the states to attend reunion activities that were put on hold for the day. We arrived and parked at the Cavalry Plain and caught the buses to the Chapel. Our old tactical officer – LTGEN (R) Richard Trefry and his wife Joyce – sat behind us. Wayne’s old cadet company, H-2, was well represented. Talk of cadet days flowed back and forth across the pews until the organ began playing when the clock reached two o’clock. </p>
<p>The commands of the honor guard were muffled by the granite walls of the chapel, but we could hear ruffles and flourishes played by the West Point band. The Army honor guard from Washington brought the casket to the church door where it was then carried by a Ranger honor guard to the front of the Chapel. Prayers and hymns were said and sung – then the eulogies began. Jim Kimsey (’62) gave the first one ending by paying tribute to the loss of his best friend. Jim Heldman (’62) talked about Wayne as a cadet and roommate – “Wayne was unique and never caught.” Keith Hightower, a fellow Special Ops comrade, talked about Wayne as a soldier and the respect and honor shown him as the father of the modern Rangers. Wayne’s daughter spoke from the heart and in a choked, emotion filled voice, told us about her dad and what his loss meant to her and her children. Tom Brokaw finished with a well-crafted account of Wayne as correspondent and advisor to NBC news, putting into words what many of us remembered about Wayne and his career.</p>
<p>At the end the military took charge. The Ranger honor guard carried his casket back to the front door, the tread of their boots echoing in the still air. The army honor guard took charge again and carried it to a hearse for the procession to the cemetery. The West Point band played ruffles and flourishes. His four-star flag was hoisted behind the flag detail from the Corps of Cadets. A contingent of cadets in full dress gray over white – a brigade staff and First Classmen – with swords and reds sashes stood ready to march. A contingent of Rangers, the band, the family and honorary pall bearers, finally the rest of us, walked down the hill to the cemetery. The flag at Trophy Point was at half-mast and fluttered little in the humid air. When we turned the corner toward the cemetery – a slight breeze picked up, making the mile long walk a little easier. </p>
<p>Just before the procession reached the gates to the cemetery, it halted while honors were rendered again as the casket was transferred to the caisson from the hearse for the trip to the gravesite. We followed the military procession past the Old Chapel and around the grounds-keepers house. Just on the other side, under the spreading arms of a giant oak, the final resting place for the general had been prepared. The military contingents drew up in a semi-circle around a canvas canopy – the cadet honor guard, the Rangers, the flag details. The caisson and horses finished with their tasks drew away– the smell of the horses in the muggy air remained with us in the rear ranks. </p>
<p>The family and honorary pallbearers were seated. We crowded around the canopied area amidst the gravestones of past graduates to hear the final words. Another set of eulogies – this time from the various service representatives of the Special Operations commands. The flag draped over the casket was carefully folded by the honor guard. Commands rang out to the military contingents. For the first time, I saw the arms of my classmates raised in hand salutes – not the cover your heart gesture that so many of us have done at Arlington – but an Army salute in respect for a fallen warrior and classmate. The cadet sabers snapped up and down, the Rangers in their brown berets saluted, ribbons from tens of secret campaigns emblazoned on their crisp greens uniforms. An artillery battery fired 17 guns, the measured blasts echoing off the hillsides around us. Then came the final salute to a warrior. A Ranger firing squad sent three precise volleys into the air and the bugler played Taps – its mournful sounds flowing across the crowd around the gravesite. Emotions rose within us and I could see lots of handkerchiefs being pulled from pockets when the music died away. </p>
<p>There was a reception held later at the Hotel Thayer. The crowds from the Chapel and cemetery made their way to its terraces and ballroom where discussions about Wayne continued. We shook hands with the NBC crew – Brian Williams soon left – he broadcast “The Evening News” from West Point that night – adding a short memorial segment at the end about the passing of a warrior. We had a chance to talk with members of the family – his mother and sister telling us they always kept Wayne in his place even when he arrived with his Secret Service details in Peoria – his sister made sure we knew that she was better in math than Wayne. Kathy Downing, surrounded by so many people, graciously accepted their condolences. </p>
<p>Around us, the mountains surrounding the Academy looked down on the scene below as they have for a millennium or more. The river relentlessly flowed past. The train on the far bank wound its way around curves cut into the mountains. You could almost hear the strains of Benny Havens in the wind, just as I am sure that if he had lived during our time as cadets, he would have known Wayne Downing. Nestled in the quiet of the Hudson Highlands, West Point has laid another graduate to rest.</p>
<p>The next morning, as we have done during each reunion weekend, the Class of 1962 returned to the Chapel for a second memorial service. This time when the roll was read, Wayne A Downing’s name stood listed with the other 84 classmates we honored that day. Be Thou at Peace!</p>