The Funeral

I was caught in traffic at lunch Thursday, as what I can only assume was a fireman's funeral crawling slowly through Ville Platte, grinding traffic to a complete halt.  There must have been a dozen modern fire engines with sirens blaring that preceded this one.  I was overwhelmed at the solemnity of the firemen riding on the old Mack engine that served as the funeral caisson.

The one on the front running board, standing at attention, particularly impressed me with his haunting stare that seemed to penetrate straight through the camera and looked directly into my head.

I am not sure of the significance, if any at all, but he was the only one without a cap.