SCRANTON -- Hundreds of police officers from departments in New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania stood in a line three deep to pay their respects to Officer John Wilding.
These officers provided a spectacle as they framed the funeral procession downtown.
Many say their communities had similar tragedies and they wanted to be here to let police in Scranton and relatives of John Wilding know they care.
A long line of blue and gray framed Wyoming Avenue's funeral procession in downtown Scranton. Police officers from states throughout the northeast paid their respects to the community and to Officer John Wilding, a man most never met.
"It's something you don't like to have to repeat."
To Deputy Dennis Rowlands of the Broome County, New York Sheriff's Department, the funeral procession hits home. In 2002, his fellow deputy, Kevin Tarsia, was shot and killed as Tarsia tried to confront a man who stole firearms from a store in Great Bend, Susquehanna County.
It happened 13 years ago, but the shock and grief remain fresh in Deputy Rowlands' memory.
"It opens up some old wounds, sometimes. But I think you get used to this aspect of the job. It's part of the job."
Patrolman Kenneth Meyer patrols a Philadelphia suburb where one of his colleagues recently was badly beaten after a traffic stop.
"It's brotherhood. One of us falls, we all feel it."
He says there is a special satisfaction coming to Scranton in support.
Men and women in law enforcement support officers in Scranton who lost a colleague and they're supporting family members who lost a loved one.
"Officers, firefighters know there's something that when you do this job, it's more than any other kind of job, it's a calling," said Officer Meyer.
Kim Weigand of Gettysburg thought about Wilding's family: the children, the widow, and the parents, whose grieving is just beginning.
"We know what they're going through. We know what the road ahead lies for them. It's a never ending pain. It never goes away," said Weigand.
Weigand's son Michael was a police officer near Gettysburg. He died in the line of duty seven years ago when a pickup truck slammed into his police motorcycle.
"People say it gets better with time. I'm seven years out, and coming to a funeral, or hearing of an officer's death takes you right back to that day," Weigand said.
Weigand said part of the healing process comes from the sheer beauty of the long line of law enforcement officers lining a funeral procession.
Scott Owen is a corrections officer at the state prison in Dallas. He calls it an honor to part of a spectacle of respect for a fallen officer.
"I look at the long line and I get chills. And I'm just thankful all these people are here," said Owen.
In addition to the long line, the procession paid respect to John Wilding with a riderless horse, a helicopter flyover, even Wilding's police bike that he rode on his beat.
"It's not only their loss, it's our loss that we all share in this moment," Owen said.
Every member of the long line hopes their presence helps a grieving family, a police department, and even a community to heal.
Many of the hundreds of police officers who came to Scranton say law enforcement work seems to be getting more dangerous, and that's one of the many reasons they believe they need to support fallen officers, their colleagues, their families, and the communities they served.