I can't go past the Pavilion nor the place where Natalie fell and not drop a tear, or more. Even all these years later, I can't forget, and never will. And I never even met her.
Yes, I have the same feelings every time I walk into that building, which is often. I've never seen it like that, with people lining the aisles and the concourse.
I was afraid the fire marshals would close it down, but for the fact many in the crowd were fire marshals, there to honor Natalie. But that Blue and Gold fire engine from Natalie's hometown of Arbuckle put a lump in my throat that wouldn't got away.
Definitely the most powerful thing I've ever attended on campus. There was a moment when they read her evaluation from the academy. The LEOs in the room were instructed to voice their approval at each item on the list. I still can't remember the exact sound they made, a chant of some kind, but entire room full of people did it in perfect unison. That sound, whatever it was, turned the chills to tears for me. I still get choked up thinking about it despite not being able to imitate the sound they made – as I've I have not earned the right to do it.
Something else I'll forever remember: LEOs from all over the country walked past my seat to get to their respective sections, and each time they did, I checked out their shoulder insignia to see where they came from. Oh look, there's Orange County, there's San Diego. My section ended up being San Ramon PD. Sometimes it was a lone officer, apparently to represent their department from places farther away. But the one officer for whom I needed not look at the shoulder wore a police cap with a checkered band. That's Chicago PD. I'd seen that lid in numerous movies and TV shows, but there was something about seeing a lone officer walk onto the floor of our Pavilion while wearing a dress uniform and that unmistakable hat.
There were two funny memories from it, too: Tim Ornelas, then the UC Davis football video coordinator, joined me in the back of the arena. This event was maybe a week before the annual Guns & Hoses (formerly Pig Bowl), for which TO serves as a coach. It seemed like every Sacramento-area LEO came over to say hello to him and share their excitement about the game, which was amusingly and refreshingly out of place at this otherwise solemn event.
Finally, when the guitarist took the stage, he introduced himself. "Hi, I'm Billy Ray Cyrus." Tim and I chuckled, thinking it was a guy having a laugh about his own resemblance to the country star. Then it clicked, no, that really IS Billy Ray Cyrus. Now, I don't like country music and I still can't stand "Achy Breaky Heart," but I will always reserve a world of respect for Cyrus for coming out to Davis to pay tribute with a performance.
I remember having the same thought about all those folks in uniform for places near and far. Had the same thought, too, about Billy Ray Cyrus, not knowing enough and sitting too far away to know if it was him or not. Thanks a million.
Her loss was such a terrible tragedy. I remember the day of her memorial well. I joined hundreds of Woodlanders who filled every Hwy 113 overpass in town, holding strips of blue cloth, signs, and flags. We watched the approaching line of LEO vehicles from all over the state heading from Davis to Arbuckle. The line went on literally for several miles. Everyone was crying or trying not to cry. I’ve never seen anything like it and am so grateful my husband and I participated. I think of her often.
Yes, Marjorie, that procession from Davis to Arbuckle is one of the most heartfelt activities I've ever witnessed. Everyone was crying and paying their respects to Natalie.
Bob, thanks for such a wonderful story for those of us who couldn't be present that day.
Thanks, Julia.
It was a sad, but powerfully inspiring day.
I can't go past the Pavilion nor the place where Natalie fell and not drop a tear, or more. Even all these years later, I can't forget, and never will. And I never even met her.
Drop a tear and drop a knee, Phil.
Yes, I have the same feelings every time I walk into that building, which is often. I've never seen it like that, with people lining the aisles and the concourse.
I was afraid the fire marshals would close it down, but for the fact many in the crowd were fire marshals, there to honor Natalie. But that Blue and Gold fire engine from Natalie's hometown of Arbuckle put a lump in my throat that wouldn't got away.
Definitely the most powerful thing I've ever attended on campus. There was a moment when they read her evaluation from the academy. The LEOs in the room were instructed to voice their approval at each item on the list. I still can't remember the exact sound they made, a chant of some kind, but entire room full of people did it in perfect unison. That sound, whatever it was, turned the chills to tears for me. I still get choked up thinking about it despite not being able to imitate the sound they made – as I've I have not earned the right to do it.
Something else I'll forever remember: LEOs from all over the country walked past my seat to get to their respective sections, and each time they did, I checked out their shoulder insignia to see where they came from. Oh look, there's Orange County, there's San Diego. My section ended up being San Ramon PD. Sometimes it was a lone officer, apparently to represent their department from places farther away. But the one officer for whom I needed not look at the shoulder wore a police cap with a checkered band. That's Chicago PD. I'd seen that lid in numerous movies and TV shows, but there was something about seeing a lone officer walk onto the floor of our Pavilion while wearing a dress uniform and that unmistakable hat.
There were two funny memories from it, too: Tim Ornelas, then the UC Davis football video coordinator, joined me in the back of the arena. This event was maybe a week before the annual Guns & Hoses (formerly Pig Bowl), for which TO serves as a coach. It seemed like every Sacramento-area LEO came over to say hello to him and share their excitement about the game, which was amusingly and refreshingly out of place at this otherwise solemn event.
Finally, when the guitarist took the stage, he introduced himself. "Hi, I'm Billy Ray Cyrus." Tim and I chuckled, thinking it was a guy having a laugh about his own resemblance to the country star. Then it clicked, no, that really IS Billy Ray Cyrus. Now, I don't like country music and I still can't stand "Achy Breaky Heart," but I will always reserve a world of respect for Cyrus for coming out to Davis to pay tribute with a performance.
Great memories, Mark.
I remember having the same thought about all those folks in uniform for places near and far. Had the same thought, too, about Billy Ray Cyrus, not knowing enough and sitting too far away to know if it was him or not. Thanks a million.
Powerful column, Bob. Thank you once again.
Much appreciated, Anne.
Very moving, thank you.
God's blessings to you, Myrna
Her loss was such a terrible tragedy. I remember the day of her memorial well. I joined hundreds of Woodlanders who filled every Hwy 113 overpass in town, holding strips of blue cloth, signs, and flags. We watched the approaching line of LEO vehicles from all over the state heading from Davis to Arbuckle. The line went on literally for several miles. Everyone was crying or trying not to cry. I’ve never seen anything like it and am so grateful my husband and I participated. I think of her often.
Thank you for this column.
Yes, Marjorie, that procession from Davis to Arbuckle is one of the most heartfelt activities I've ever witnessed. Everyone was crying and paying their respects to Natalie.
Beautiful testimony of the power and peace that come with Faith in God! Thank you!
Beautifully said, Carol.
Thank you