Site icon Colorado Country Life Magazine

Honoring Sacrifice with a Dignified Farewell

BY AUDRA DAUGHERTY – PHOTOS BY JASON CLAYPOOL

The regal Percheron horse carries himself with decorum as he methodically plods up the small road between rows of headstones. His harness polished, the horse carefully pulls a beautiful, old-fashioned carriage hearse as a woman, dressed in a black mourning coat, leads him to a graveside. With ceremony and respect, the coffin in the hearse is lifted out and carried to the grave. Family and friends follow. Another person is laid to rest with dignity and honor.

It is all thanks to Lorraine Melgosa, a woman with a mission from Manzanola, a small Colorado farming town of 500 in southeastern Colorado. She is the owner of Wellington Carriage Company and she and her horses have provided horse-drawn hearse services for more than 700 funerals for over 17 years.

Since the start of the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, her hearse has carried the bodies of more than 45 service people to their final resting place at no cost for the families. It is her personal mission to bring respect back to funerals, to slow life down and give grieving family members a few more minutes with their loved one. Her family, friends and community have all sacrificed with her to make this dream come true.

Beginning of a business

Lorraine’s brother, Barney Clancy. When their father died, they wanted a funeral befitting his aristocratic nature. He wasn’t from royalty, but he always carried himself with an air of dignity. When he passed away, Lorraine and Barney believed the best way to show their respect was with a horse-drawn hearse. To them, a horse-drawn hearse represented dignity and tradition.

However, no funeral home offered this service and they couldn’t find anyone locally who offered horse-drawn hearse services. Because of their frustration and inability to provide their father with a last ride, Barney was inspired to start a new business. Lorraine became a partner with Barney in Wellington Carriage Company, named after their father, Wellington Joseph Clancy.

The hearse, an 1867 James Cunningham & Sons hearse, was purchased at an auction in Pennsylvania. It was pulled by their first horse, Mike, a dapple gray Percheron. As you can expect, people weren’t knocking their door down for funerals. Barney ran the business for about a year before he lost interest and decided to sell it. Lorraine didn’t want him to sell the business they had named after their father, and she had grown quite fond of Mike. She took over the business from Barney in 1993. Lorraine now had a horse and a hearse, and no truck with which to haul either. She was also a farmer’s wife with two small children at home. But she was dedicated to this business and she added on.

She bought a surrey so she could offer horse-drawn carriage services for weddings in addition to funerals. “I discovered real quick, weddings are depressing,” she says. Brides would call and say they only needed her for 15 minutes, gripe about paying and want her to take the horse and carriage places she wouldn’t take her own truck. Lorraine started stressing over wedding commitments and how she would handle it if a funeral came up suddenly. She never wanted to turn a funeral down so she could do someone’s fourth wedding. “Funerals are a once-in-a-lifetime thing,” says Lorraine. “Just like my dad was special; it’s an honor for me that they would include us in that special time.

That’s what you live your whole life for, and your funeral should reflect on your life. So I just do funerals.” From the early days of the business, Lorraine never charged for the funerals of veterans, service personnel, children, murder victims or family or friends within the state. That meant 90 percent of all her services were free. “It’s a labor of love,” she said. “You can’t be in it for the paycheck. You have to do it because you love it.

I believe in it and I get a lot of satisfaction from doing it.” When the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan started in 2001 she was going through a pretty tough time in her life. Then Staff Sgt. Justin Vasquez, who grew up in Manzanola, was killed while serving in Iraq. Lorraine had known Justin since he was born. She knew she had to do Justin’s funeral. She immediately called his family. A thousand people attended Justin’s funeral, twice the population of Manzanola. That’s when Lorraine says it hit her: “What problem do I have that’s bigger than this?” Commitment to those who served Two weeks later Lorraine received a phone call from a funeral home in Denver requesting her services for Marine Lance Cpl. Chad Maynard. At the funeral for Cpl. Maynard she had someone stay with Mike so she could go into the church and hear the service. It was her first real exposure to the sacrifices being made by our military servicemen and women.

After the funeral, as she was pulling out of the cemetery grounds holding up rush hour traffic, she encountered several impatient drivers. She realized at that moment this kid didn’t know any of us. “This kid died for us,” she says. “People can be mad and honk at me because of this inconvenience.

These people don’t care, but I have to care and I have to bring awareness to the public. Every day, these kids are dying for us.” The Maynard funeral was a turning point in Lorraine’s life. The Denver Post carried a story about Lorraine, the funerals and her aging and injured horse, Mike. After reading the article, Phyllis Patterson contacted Lorraine about helping her with the purchase of another horse. Lorraine had previously met Phyllis when she and Mike carried the body of Phyllis’s nephew, Navy Seal Danny Dietz, to his burial at Fort Logan National Cemetery in Denver.

Phyllis explained that the Dietz family wanted to buy her another horse for all she had done for them. Lorraine instantly refused,” she told Phyllis. “Number one, your family has already given so much. I can’t take anything from you. I can’t take a cup of coffee from anyone, let alone have a family that’s lost a soldier buy me a horse.” Lorraine says she lovingly argued with Phyllis over a period of time.

However the family was so persistent that Lorraine eventually accepted the offer. The generosity of the Dietz family resulted in Lorraine purchasing Lady, a black Percheron mare. Life went on for three years with Lady. Lorraine and Lady provided horse-drawn hearse services at more than 80 funerals, 21 of which were for active military personnel. Then Lady died suddenly of colic in November of 2009. She was just 14 years old.

She is buried in Lorraine’s yard next to Mike. Near the time of Lady’s death, the motor in Lorraine’s truck died. Suddenly, two-thirds of her funeral business assests were gone. No horse, no truck. Lorraine almost quit the day Lady died. What was God telling her? She felt like she’d given enough. There was no shame in quitting. After crying all day and night, the thought came to her, “Soldiers can’t quit when their guys die.

They have to keep going into battle. Why should I be able to quit?” A good friend came to Lorraine with an idea for a fundraiser she wanted to organize to buy Lorraine another horse and truck. Lorraine balked at the idea of accepting the help and money of others. “I don’t feel right about this. I can find another horse. I don’t need this,” she recalls saying.

She discussed her concerns over the fund-raising event with another friend, whose advice was, that Lorraine can’t deny people the blessing of helping her. She wants to do all this for other people but part of God’s test is seeing what she can accept, too.” Realizing that in order to give, one must learn to receive, Lorraine attended the benefit. The event was wildly successful and with the help of her local community she was able to purchase her next horse. She felt that God was telling her to come back stronger and better than before. She bought her next horse, sight unseen. When Lorraine saw the horse for the first time she wasn’t sure she had done the right thing.

The horse was just off the truck and still had his winter coat and his name was Bill. That was the first thing she changed and he became Duke because he was just not a “Bill” to her. Her father’s nickname had been Duke, so she felt it was a fitting name for her new horse. Back at home, she lit firecrackers to simulate the guns that are fired during military funerals and she walked him beside the trains tracks near her farm. Nothing she did fazed him. Duke has proven to be a superb horse. Today, Lorraine believes that Duke will be her best horse yet.

Mission to honor others

Since the first military funerals Lorraine did with Mike, her mission in life has become clear to her. All she had been through prior to the wars was preparing her for what she’s now doing. Lorraine and her horses have provided horse-drawn hearse services at 45 military funerals. She vividly remembers them all. When asked if one funeral in particular touched her the most, she says. “They all do, they all have a story,” she says. Lorraine has attracted the attention of the national media. She has been featured in the Los Angeles Times, The Denver Post, and as well as on the “NBC Nightly News,” during the Making a Difference segment.

She does not like the attention for herself but sees it as a means to an end, to bring attention to the servicemen and women and their stories. She’s been called a hero and she immediately says she’s not. To her the soldiers, sailors, airmen and marines are the heroes. “They risk their lives every day and what do I do?” she says. “I put on a tux and go to work.

There’s a lot of other people [continued from page 17] Lorrain Melgosa drives the hearse carriage in one of the many military funerals she has assisted gratis. ColoradoCountryLife.coop January 2012 19 doing more than I’m doing. It’s not a big deal.” Because of the media attention, people from all over the country contact Lorraine and new friendships are made. Through her new friends, family and community, she is able to deal with the constant grief felt at each funeral. The effect each person has on her is evident as she recounts them for this interview. She remembers each and every funeral vividly, not just the military funerals.

There have been funerals for children and complete strangers; she can recall something about every one. “Yes, I have the hurt.” she says. “I lose a piece of my heart each time, but look what I’ve gained. That’s how I deal with it.” Lorraine feels we all have a gift and this is why God put her here and why she didn’t quit after Lady died. She feels stronger for all she’s been through and for what she can do. “Not everyone can do what I do, but everyone can do something to help,” she says.

The families of the fallen deeply appreciate Lorraine’s efforts. It means a lot to them that a stranger would do this for them — that she would pick up the phone and call them and do this for their loved one. “Just like I am humbled that a stranger would die for me, they are humbled that a stranger would drive 400 miles and do this funeral for them,” she says.

She wants the families to know she cares, that a stranger appreciates the sacrifice and what they’ve been through. While the ceremony of a horse-drawn procession is common for burials in Arlington National Cemetery, it isn’t generally seen otherwise. For Lorraine, it is important to add this extra measure of honor and dignity to a veteran’s funeral. With her horse and her hearse Lorraine is saying, “I recognize the sacrifice you gave, and you’re going to receive the highest honor that I can give.”

Audra Daugherty is a freelance writer from Arizona. This is her second feature for Colorado Country Life.

Exit mobile version