Alone at death, veteran finds friends at funeral

Charly Hornbrook didn't know the man who was about to be buried at the Florida National Cemetery, but it didn't matter.

Leo Joseph Becker, a former U.S. Marine who served in Korea, was 75 when he died, alone, at a Polk County home for veterans. If he had any surviving relatives, no one could find them.

So Hornbrook hopped on his motorcycle and drove three hours from Lake City to stand in the hot sun and hold a flag for a man he never met.

"Since I did not actually serve, I need to do as much as I can to help the vets," said Hornbrook, who is the same age as Becker. "I've welcomed troops home before, but I have never done a funeral."

Hornbrook was not alone at the service in Bushnell. A member of the Patriot Guard Riders, he was joined by others from the group, as well as members of Rolling Thunder, both motorcycle organizations that spend their own time and money to honor veterans like Becker. The riders would later be joined by members of the Veterans of Foreign Wars and American Legion.

Becker's funeral and his final ride were provided by the Ott-Laughlin Funeral Home in Winter Haven under the Dignity Memorial Homeless Veterans Burial Program, a cooperative effort among 1,800 funeral, cremation and cemetery service providers across the country.

The program has helped more than 600 veterans since its inception in 2000. Wednesday's funeral was the first in Polk County.

"We are here to honor the fallen," said Bill Snelson of Webster, a Vietnam Army vet and one of the Patriot Guard Riders leaders. "Once you do this, you are never the same."

"We feel like veterans deserve in death the quality of honor they gave in service to the country," said Ott-Laughlin funeral director Eddie Allen. He estimated the funeral home spent $2,800 for the service, casket and transportation.

Becker was living in a government-subsidized veteran's home in Winter Haven when he died May 5. He provided officials there with a contact list of two people, but neither phone number was valid, Allen said.

But just because no family members or friends attended his funeral didn't mean Becker wasn't shown respect at the end.

Around 10:30 a.m., Hornbrook and Snelson were joined on the "flag line" by a half-dozen others, people like John Fair and his girlfriend, Judith Birch, of Hudson.

They stood at attention, the men in black leather vests, each holding an American flag. They stood there, sweat dripping from their faces, and waited for the hearse that would arrive with Becker's flag-draped casket.

By 11, the hearse arrived. Mary Thomas, a volunteer at Bushnell, read a memorial prayer. Seven men with rifles fired three times each, the loud report breaking the silence, the smell of gunpowder filling the thick Florida summer air.

Finally, the casket containing Becker, surrounded by strangers who came pay him a final honor, was carted off and Hornbrook got back on his motorcycle for the three-plus-hour ride back north.

"I am very humbled," he said. "It was an honor to be here."