I Cried on BBC Radio Leicester

It's true. I actually started to cry for the reporter from BBC Radio Leicester who interviewed me after the Reinterment. It was quite embarrassing. But what can she expect, asking people coming out of the Cathedral, "What was the most moving part of the ceremony for you?" If only she had given me a couple of hours....

I arrived in good time to the Cathedral. I didn't know how they were going to assign seats, but I assumed it would be arrival time somewhat. So at the entrance to the little alley near where I needed to go, there was a checkpoint. I presented to the security guard my Admittance Card and my passport. He let me in.


Then I entered the Leicester Cathedral for the first time. It was immense, dim, and there were people and cameras everywhere. I was guided to a seat. At first I didn't think it was a good seat. It was on the front row of a section but in front of a pillar and a giant floral arrangement. I could just see part of the pall on Richard's coffin, the back of the reader's stand, and a bit of the altar area. There was no way to see into the new tomb area off to my right, which was enclosed into a little side chapel area.

I'm actually in this picture that was published in the Leicester Mercury. You can see my hat, sort of!

I'm on the far right end of this row, third in from the right.

Then we sat. And sat. And sat.

It was okay to sit for awhile and watch people. I was looking at hats, and people, and camera crew, and wondering how will I see much of anything with all this plant life in front of me. I talked with the lady next to me. She was a local lady from Bosworth. She told me that she was glad to be sitting by someone from far away. Lovely lady.

Then something magical happened. People started carrying things past us. Official looking people. And what did they have, you might ask? My goodness, that looks like the actual Book of Hours, Richard's very own that will be part of the ceremony! And wait, what do those people have? The crown, the specially made crown for King Richard himself went whizzing by me, not more than 2 feet away. I could have touched it! But then I might have had my hands cut off or something, so of course, I didn't try that.

Pretty soon, some other official people came and moved the big floral arrangement and told us that someone in the procession would be passing by with a wheelchair, so we should be on the alert. What's this? The procession? We are on the procession now! My seat got even better!

Unfortunately, we didn't have the Countess or Benedict Cumberbatch process by us, but we did have a bunch of nobility related to War of the Roses participants go by. That was rather interesting.

And then the ceremony began. I gave you a link to the order of the service. They followed it quite strictly. There were a few speeches, and probably the best one was by the Bishop of Leicester, Tim Stephens.

The first hymn really got to me. It was a hymn collected by Ralph Vaughn Williams with words by devout Catholic, G. K. Chesterton, O God of Earth and Altar.

It was at this moment that the Bearers moved Richard's coffin to the altar area. I think that is when it truly hit me that this man we were honouring was my ancestor, dead over 500 long years, and a King of England. That was a lot to take in, especially with beautiful musical accompaniment by a well-trained choir. Out came the kleenex.

The rest of the service was equally reverent. Benedict Cumberbatch did well at his reading. I liked the poem, actually. I was intrigued that the poet had used part of a knight's epitaph for it. One thing afterwards, however, about this portion of the service, is that the press has made it out to be more than it was. Benedict was only reading for about five minutes. It was not the highlight of the service. He was there, participating not performing.

I think the most moving part for all of us was the lowering of the coffin into the grave. I could not see any of it, but of course we knew it was happening. The Countess of Wessex and the Duke of Gloucester, along with various other dignitaries, such as the Archbishop of Canterbury, went up to witness it. Richard would be lost no more.

And then it ended with a beautiful arrangement of the National Anthem. I, being proud of my Canadian heritage, could sing along having learned the words long ago. 

When we were dismissed, after all of the important people had gone, the lady next to me and I crept up to have a look at the space where Richard would lie. I might not get another chance! There will be larger tomb on top, but he was underground, under a large black slab. I think people were happy with it.

And then out I came. I was alone, not in a crowd. I think that was how the BBC interviewer picked me out. I started out all right, telling her my name and what I thought of the service in general, but then she asked me for more details about the moving part of the ceremony. I hadn't had enough time to recover fully from all of it, so that's when the tears came out again. 

I hope nobody actually heard that interview, although if she wanted somebody more emotional about it instead of gushy, I guess I would have qualified.

I can't believe I helped to bury a King of England today. The experience will be one I will never forget.