There was a funeral today in a small church in a small town whose best days are gone yet every pew was filled with those who came to pay final respects to the man with the big farmer hands who died just a few days short of his 88th birthday.

From a house across the street an old man wearing a VFW cap shuffled uneasily toward the church where he joined others with identical caps, including the veteran who struggled to hold the American flag outright as he limped down the middle aisle of the church. Seven other older men wearing flowing red capes and black and white plumed hats filed in to honor their former Knights of Columbus brethren.

Hundreds crowded into the church, some kneeling, some sitting, old and young. Three of the four priests conducting the service were black South Africans with strong accents who the farmer had met and befriended through family connections. Race, religion, age, political persuasion - none of this mattered.

“Dad was a veteran, a farmer, a catholic, a father and a faithful husband, ” a daughter said during her eulogy. “He loved the land.”