By Cate Lecuyer
BEVERLY — One by one, families walked out of their houses and stood in the crisp morning air outside the Campbell Funeral Home.
They silently squeezed into spaces along Cabot Street and watched the horse-drawn caisson — a restored antique hearse from 1874 — that carried the body of Army Spc. Stephen Fortunato.
A lone drum began to slowly beat. Then a drum roll, and another, followed by the clopping of hooves. Bagpipers played, leading the march to honor Fortunato's life and sacrifice for his country.
The 25-year-old Beverly High School graduate was killed in Afghanistan on Oct. 14 when a bomb destroyed the armored Humvee he was riding in.
During the procession, people stood shoulder-to-shoulder along parts of the route from the funeral home to St. Mary Star of the Sea Church. Hundreds of students from Briscoe Middle School and Shore Country Day School held flags as the caisson passed. Parents brought their babies. Elderly men and women brought their walkers and canes. Some brought their dogs.
From a string of limousines following the horse-drawn carriage, members of Fortunato's family peered out at the crowd. One woman looked through the tinted window at a small terrier straining at its leash.
She smiled, and wiped away a tear.
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Standing in the sun outside St. Mary's Church, Suzanne Sarhi wasn't sure if she should go inside.
"Part of me wants to go in," she said. But part of her didn't want to attend the funeral for a boy she watched grow up.
"I used to baby-sit him and his brother," said Sarhi, 38. "I just remember chasing them around. And I remember their curly hair. They were boys, you know."
She was one of about 200 people who paid their respects outside the church. Many more packed inside, and thousands turned out for the procession.
"The way the city has responded is great," Sarhi said. "I was just thinking, standing here, if he even knew. All of Beverly has stopped."
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Many people at the funeral never knew Fortunato. They recognized the last name because his great uncle was the mayor of Beverly, and another great uncle was the superintendent of schools.
Bob Atherton, a Vietnam and Korean War veteran, used to buy all his shirts from a clothing store on Rantoul Street that was owned by a Fortunato. He watched the procession with his daughter Sue from her front lawn on Cabot Street.
"My son is 25," she said. "I feel like that could be anyone's son or grandson."
Fortunato was the first serviceman from Beverly killed since Vietnam.
"It makes it a little more real," Deanna Swensen said. "Not that it wasn't real before. But there's a disconnect between reading about a war or hearing about it on TV, and seeing the effects on the faces of those grieving, she said.
"You're strolling around Beverly, drinking your latte and thinking everything is perfect," she said. "It makes you appreciate your freedom a little bit more. I grew up in a peaceful time, before now. You take it for granted."
