In 2014, Ralph “Rowdy” Butler Jr. made a decision that would forever change his life.
He had heard about Wreaths Across America and the work they do, and he was intrigued. A veteran himself, serving in both the Air Force and the Army, he wanted to help. That year, he asked David Freymiller if he could participate, and his answer was a resounding “yes.” He was given his choice of routes and he chose Oklahoma. Why this route? Well, according to Butler, this choice was because, “I’m a seasoned driver, but the fact of the matter is that I hate snow.”
As luck would have it, 2014 was an extra special year for the organization. It was the first year that Wreaths Across America was able to cover every single gravesite in Arlington.
Before embarking on that first journey, Butler found himself imagining what the experience would be like. He wondered what it would be like to make that journey, how it would feel to lay wreaths on those graves. A lifetime writer by nature, he put pen to paper and wrote a poem about what he thought the experience would be like. Of this poem, he said. “I didn’t know it at the time, but how I imagined it would be through these words was pretty spot on.”
Below is the poem Butler wrote before that first ride.
The Silence of a Fallen Tear
By SSGT Ralph “Rowdy” Lee Butler Jr.
Have you ever
Heard his voice
Or do you even
Know his name
As I leave a wreath
At the cross
Where he lays
For I myself
I did not know
Anything
About this man
That lays here
Beneath my feet
As I read his name
For the very first time
As I hear
Something
That is so unique
From a voice
Like no other
That touches the heart
And the soul
In so many ways
As he whispers
Unto me
Saying
Thank you
For remembering me
On this day
With a wreath
From across America
To where I lay
And I know
Without a doubt
That you yourself
Will carry
A thousand more
That will come
To a rest
Somewhere
Along the way
From a journey
Like no other
That will cross
The USA
Honoring those
That had fallen
That you
Will never forget
As you read
The very names
Of my brothers
Along the way
And because of that
You will never
Forget this day
From the silence
Of a whisper
And to the fall
Of a broken tear
That no one else
Will ever see
Or ever hear
That says
Thank you
My brother
Thank you
My friend
For such an honor
As you lay the wreath
At the grave
Of my brother
With honor
And respect
As I leave with you
The very journey
Of a broken tear
That will come
From the silence
Of a fallen Vet…
Where the wreath itself
Will come to rest…
In the silence
Of a fallen tear
With honor
And respect…
Butler has driven wreaths many times since that first ride, feeling called to honor these fallen soldiers and the families who loved them.
Butler has been trucking for nearly 30 years on and off and has been with Freymiller long enough at this point to have accumulated more than a million miles with the company, so it’s safe to say he’s no stranger to the road, but working with Wreaths Across America quicky became very special to him.
“The stories are unbelievable and the journeys are never the same,” he said. “And there is always something special about the journey itself.”
A quick chat with this driver reveals this to be more than true as he shares just a few of the special moments he’s experienced doing this work.
He shared with us the story of his encounter with Jerry Newman a retired first sergeant. Newman had come across one of Butler’s posts which talked about the mission of Wreaths Across America and shared his personal itinerary for National Wreath Day, which included a stop at Ft. Riley, Kansas. The two exchanged a few messages and as Newman learned what this all meant, he asked Butler who refers to in a writing as the ‘trucker stranger’ if while at Fr Riley, he might render a short salute in honor of his only son, who is buried in that cemetery. Due to failing health, he had not been able to visit his son’s grave in nearly four years, and this small kindness would mean the world to him.
Butler told Newman he would do better than that. He promised this stranger he would seek out his son’s grave, salute him personally, and leave a memento of their visit. He did just that, leaving a challenge coin and sending a picture to a very grateful father. He has been back to this grave every year since, even since the passing of the soldier’s parents.
“I go back there every year, and I keep a father’s promise,” said Butler.
He recalled some special experiences at this particular grave over the years. Once as they were visiting, he remembers looking at the flag flying at the cemetery. It was a windless day and the flag hung limp on its post. He said to those he was with, “The only ting that would make this better is if Old Glory was waving.” In that moment without a hint of breeze in the air, the flag began to wave. On another occasion, a bald eagle flew over during their visit.
Each year, Butler takes a week and a half off work to enjoy the journey. He admits this puts him in a financial bind but wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Those little things like the eagle or the flag waving at you make it so worth it,” he says.
Butler has several incredible tales of the journey, and for most, he has a corresponding poem, each eloquently written and deeply moving.
In other stories he talked of driving over 100 miles out of his way to ensure a specific soldier’s grave received a wreath. He spoke of the time he arrived in Saint Louis with his manifest short two people who were on it when he left. He met the son of one of the men who had disappeared from his list. After trying to figure out what was going on, he told the man to put the wreath on his truck and he would personally ensure the wreath made it to his father’s grave.
In another tale from the journey, he spoke of a time in Wingfield, Kansas when a veteran’s urn was being delivered on the day he was there. This particular vet had no close friends and no family nearby. There were only two people there to attend the service. Without hesitation, Butler made the decision to stay and honor this man, a total stranger, but a brother in the service to this nation.
He told us the tale of a time he was delivering wreaths and he got to the end of all he had on board, only to see a small boy with tears in his eyes. The boy’s father hadn’t received a wreath. They didn’t have enough. Butler wanted to solve this for the boy. Thinking quickly, he cut the wreath from his truck’s grill, and gave it to the boy to place on his daddy’s grave. The boy saluted him and thanked him for honoring his father. When he turned back to his truck a new wreath was in place on his grill. To this day, he has no idea where it came from or how it got there.
In 2014, after that first ride, Butler founded Roll To Wreaths – RTW-Riders 4 Vets. This is their oath.
For I myself will carry a wreath in memory of my brothers… And for those that have fallen that lay here beside him as I pray out loud that no headstone will ever be forgotten. As we lay a wreath in honor of those that have fallen. For this here wreath that I carry today has crossed the USA and for those of you who do not know this here wreath that you see is called A Veterans Wreath and it was made of ten bouquets and each bouquet has its own significance with the words of dedication written only for our vets… As I render a salute and leave behind this here wreath that was made for a vet…
Butler hauls and places an average of about 900 wreaths per year, a number he hopes to keep growing.
