Naples woman joins buglers who volunteer at veterans funerals

On a morning of mourning, two dozen somber notes cut through the impenetrable silence, each one puncturing the dense May air like a soldier's razor-sharp bayonet.

Scores listened to the unmistakable cadence at the Lee County Fallen Officer Memorial, the notes knocking on heavy hearts like the waves of the nearby Caloosahatchee River lapping against the banks of Centennial Park in Fort Myers.

The song lasts less than a minute. But as it echoes into eternity, it signals the end of a lifetime.

Behind the brass bugle playing taps, the historic call to sound a military member's final tour from one world into the next, was Beth McElheran, a North Naples woman who has made it her mission to offer veterans the sendoff they deserve.

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McElheran, 36, is part of a national network of buglers, called Bugles Across America, that plays taps at veterans funerals. Members accept no payment.

The mother of two boys is also part of a local pipes and drum band, named Guns and Hoses, that plays at a range of military events across Southwest Florida.

Though McElheran, who has been playing a number of instruments since she was a little girl, never served in the military, she said she has long felt a deep connection with veterans and first responders.

"My dad is state police," McElheran said, her green eyes welling up, tears trickling down her freckled cheeks.

"I think about how awful people are treated — the Vietnam vets when they came back — how awful they were treated. My mom's husband took care of burn victims in Vietnam. And they were spit on. These kids died at 16, 17."

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To McElheran, playing a fleeting song and paying lasting homage to those who fought for their country is the least she can do.

"This is like your last respects: Thank you for what you do," she said. "And I can't be a police officer, I can't be a fireman. I'm not cut out for that. Not cut out to be a veteran. My boyfriend is actually a Bosnia vet. It's just important that you ..."

Her voice trailed off. Then, soft, but determined it returned for a crescendo.

"They're humans," she said. "They put on a uniform, but they go home to a family every night. You know, they have lives. So if 24 notes give some families some peace and some respect, then I'll play it every day, all day."

Since starting to play trumpet at 11 years old, McElheran has played taps probably 500 times.

Still, she gets nervous every time she plays the song. A little meditation beforehand helps calm her nerves.

“If I go to play to a cemetery, I have to kind of walk around the cemetery and relax,” McElheran said. “When I’m here (at Centennial Park) there’s like certain things I have to look for … I just have to relax and say, ‘You’ve played this 500 times. You know it. You’re going to play it fine.’”

McElheran joined Guns and Hoses in 2013, eight years after becoming a part of Bugles Across America as one of the first couple hundred volunteers.

Since then, the not-for-profit network has grown to 5,500 horn players, ages 10 to 90, across every state of the union, in parts of Europe and even Australia, said Tom Day, founder of Bugles Across America.

“We are of every color, religion and what have you,” said Day, 77, a veteran and bugler. “Many are former military.”

The impetus for starting the not-for-profit, which allows individuals arranging for funerals of veterans to request a bugler through the organization’s website, came in 1999 when Day started to hear rumblings about Congress drafting legislation that would allow every veteran to receive a military funeral.

The law went into effect the following year and stated that vets have a right to at least two uniformed military personnel, who fold and present the flag, and play a recording of taps.

But why a recording, Day wondered.

“And so I asked, and they said, ‘Well, there are no buglers,’” Day recalled.

So he began building a registry of buglers across the nation and connected them with individuals arranging funerals for vets.

“It just started to grow,” said Day, who lives just outside Chicago.

In the organization’s 17-year existence, its buglers have played at more than 200,000 funerals, Day said.

Like McElheran, Day said servicemen and women deserve a proper sendoff with a live bugle player instead of a recording that could be compromised by technical difficulties or lead to other mishaps.

“Why we do it is because it should be done and the recipients deserve it,” he said. “They have given their lives for our country, and if we can’t do that small thing — 24 notes, approximately one minute — then what the hell are we all about?”