I've been working so much this week that I haven't had time to write about the Ford funeral. (Or not time to write about it for my blog. I've definitely spent time writing about it, or trying to write about it.)

I know next to nothing about Ford. About every fifth time I think about him I think his name is Henry Ford. Until this evening I was pretty sure he served after LBJ. I think I know more about Betty Ford. She's the one with the clinics.

But why his death is exciting (excuse the morbidity) is the whole state funeral. I was in DC when the last president (Reagan) died for my study abroad (okay, study off-campus). And, to add to that, we were also reporters, so that meant we really dug into the whole thing (or had the chance to. I chose to run away from the parade when there was a false bomb scare at the Capitol. But I did see the plane salute from the roof).

What I really remember, other than hearing the stories of my classmates who actually did cool journalist things, is standing in line to view the coffin at the lying in state at the Capitol rotunda. I don't remember that much about seeing the actual coffin -- it's the standing in line I remember. It took six hours. But six hours in a I'll-remember-this-forever sense and not a this-sucks sense. Laura Keith and I got in line at 8:15ish p.m. after an eight-block walk from my dorm. At 2:30 a.m. we were in the rotunda. As we left the Capitol you could look down the mall and all you could see was lines of people (the line would zigzag the length of each block 12 times before moving onto the next), and you knew the ones way at the end might never get in because rumor had it they were closing at 6 a.m. And there were so many people. And they were America.