R.I.P. Staff Sgt. Edward Karolasz

Saturday morning family, friends and many people who never met U.S. Army Staff Sgt. Edward Karolasz turned out in Kearny, NJ, to say farewell to the young soldier who died in Iraq.

Sgt. Karolasz and three other American soldiers were killed when a roadside bomb blew up their Humvee on November 19 in a place called Beiji, about 155 miles north of Baghdad.

Outside St. Stephen’s Roman Catholic Church the grisly details of his death were overshadowed by the loss and a sober mood of respect. Cops, firemen, bikers and families stood silently and watched six soldiers carry the 25-year-old’s coffin into the old stone church.

Jim Lowney Photo

Jim Lowney Photo

Jim Lowney Photo

As a funeral Mass was said for Sgt. Karolasz, more and more people appeared outside the church on Kearny Avenue. It seemed as everyone of them had at least one American flag.

Jim Lowney Photo

The only area empty in the blocks closest to the church was a bit of sidewalk marked off with sawhorses.

“See that? The protest area is empty,” said a biker who looked more like an accountant dressed for a casual Friday.

“Isn’t that the press area?” he was asked.

There were plenty of reporters and photographers wandering around at a respectable distance but none of them like being boxed in “their” little piece of land across the street from the church. The press were behaving and the cops were cool so it wasn’t an issue.

“No. The protest area is up where those police cars are,” the biker said pointing up the street.

“Who the hell would protest this poor kid’s funeral?”

“These religious nuts from Kansas.”

“Who?”

“The Westboro Baptist Church from Topeka.”

“Why?”

“They hate fags.”

“What?”

“That’s their website, www.godhatesfags.com.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, that’s why we are here,” he said pointing proudly to the two dozen motorcycles parked on the street opposite the church.

Jim Lowney Photo

He pulled a flier out of his pocket. It said “Patriot Guard Riders” across the top.

“They are protesting gays in the military.”

Down the page was a bit about the biker group.

“We don’t care what you ride, what your political views are, or whether you’re a "hawk" or a "dove". It is not a requirement that you be a veteran. It doesn't matter where you’re from or what your income is. You don’t even have to ride. The only prerequisite is Respect.

“Our mission is to attend the funeral services of fallen American military heroes.”

“That’s a good thing you guys are doing.”

“We are only two weeks old and have 1,100 members already.”

A cop quietly gave the word that the Mass would end soon and people began moving to their places. The bikers mounted their rides and started the engines with a roar. The news photographers lined up shots directly across from the church doors. And young parents hoisted small children up on shoulders for a better view.

The church doors slowly opened and soon Sgt. Karolasz’s flag-draped coffin was carried down the steps to the hearse. Crying mourners in black followed.

Jim Lowney Photo

By the time the family was sitting in the back of the black limo, hundreds of people had lined both sides of Kearny Avenue for at least ten blocks. Not far from the church, a massive American flag hung over the funeral path from the buckets of two Kearny Fire department ladder trucks.

Jim Lowney Photo

Lead by the bikers, the funeral precession slowly rolled past the crowds and under the flag and off to the cemetery to lay Staff Sgt. Edward Karolasz to rest.