Under a sunny Colorado sky at Pikes Peak National Cemetery, Kennedy Pugh took a breath Thursday afternoon, bracing himself as members of the U.S. Air Force Honor Guard slid a gleaming silver casket out of a hearse.
His brother, Alvin Pugh, was finally home.
As Taps echoed through the cemetery, the Honor Guard draped a flag over the casket, and the priest from the Pugh family’s parish in Pueblo began the ritual of laying Alvin to rest.
“It was beautiful,” Kennedy said.
This was Alvin Pugh’s second burial, though. His two sisters and three brothers didn’t attend his first one. They didn’t even know about it.
On Feb. 21, 2023, about 1,800 miles away from Colorado, the Department of Veterans Affairs mistakenly buried 60-year-old Pugh as an unclaimed veteran in Calverton National Cemetery in New York. After The War Horse reported on the Pugh family’s ordeal three months ago, the VA pledged to reinter Alvin Pugh at Pikes Peak and cover all costs.
“I’m at peace,” said Patti Pugh, Alvin’s sister, after the burial, which included the traditional 21-gun salute, and a surprise touch Alvin would’ve loved. The Blue Angels were practicing for an air show in nearby Colorado Springs, and as his family prepared for the burial, their jets roared overhead in formation.
Most unclaimed veterans don’t find such a resolution. For decades, bureaucracy and a lack of coordination among Veterans Affairs and local agencies have allowed the remains of tens of thousands of veterans who die alone to pile up in funeral homes and morgues around the country, some collecting dust for more than 100 years.
Had the VA checked Pugh’s medical records, they would’ve seen one of his sisters, Theresa, listed as a contact. But when Pugh died in his New York City apartment on Feb. 2, 2022, from a pulmonary embolism, the medical examiner didn’t find any evidence of family members at his home or in city public records. All his siblings live in Colorado, and his parents died years ago.
The medical examiner’s office did, however, discover a VA prescription in his apartment, and reported Alvin as an unclaimed veteran. The agency took their word, never looking to see if Pugh’s records in their system indicated otherwise.
More than 40 years ago, in 1981, Pugh announced to his family that he was joining the Air Force, following in the footsteps of his father and two uncles who also served in the military.
![A photo of Alvin Pugh at his family's home in Pueblo, Colorado on Thursday, May 23, 2024. (Photo by Hyoung Chang/The Denver Post)](https://i0.wp.com/www.denverpost.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/TDP-L-pughfamily052324-cha-196.jpg?fit=620%2C9999px&ssl=1)
Kennedy recalls his brother being proud of his time in uniform. Alvin deployed to Germany and the Persian Gulf, earning achievement medals for his work in intelligence and the rank of staff sergeant before an honorable discharge in 1995.
Despite his family’s deep military connections, and a family he often talked to in Colorado, Pugh mistakenly became one of the 2,300 “unclaimed veterans” buried by VA’s National Cemetery Administration across the country last year. By law, the VA is required to ensure that deceased veterans without a next of kin receive dignified burials, with a casket or urn.
Veterans Affairs recently surveyed funeral homes and counted 21,000 unclaimed deceased veterans. Don Gerspach, director of the Missing in America Project, told The War Horse in May that that number seems low. There’s “probably 100,000 or more out there,” said Gerspach, whose nonprofit has located and identified unclaimed veterans and provided thousands of proper burials since 2007.
The Department of Veterans Affairs has tried to improve its handling of unclaimed vets. Until April 2023, no one in the agency was responsible for overseeing burials, but the VA’s Pension and Fiduciary Service Office is now in charge. Its coordinators throughout the country search the entire VA system to find a next-of-kin.
The Pughs only learned of Alvin’s accidental burial in March when Patti was conducting one of her many online searches in hopes of discovering her brother’s whereabouts. For two years, she and her siblings could not find a trace of him. Then, this past March, Findagrave.com popped up: Calverton National Cemetery, section 51A, site 2098.
In the months since, she and her siblings have pushed for the VA to correct its error and bring their brother back to Colorado.
In a statement, VA spokesman Terrence Hayes said the agency was glad to honor the wishes of the Pugh family and that, “moving forward, we will continue to review and improve our policies to prevent issues like this from happening again.”
Kennedy Pugh is relieved that the burial has finally happened, but he says there are parts of this ordeal that remain hurtful. After the New York Medical Examiner identified Pugh as an unclaimed veteran, all of his belongings, including photos and other personal items, were thrown away.
And after they learned Alvin had died this past spring, his devoutly Catholic siblings held a funeral mass without their brother’s body. Usually the ache of a funeral and burial is contained to one day, and for Kennedy, grief swelled when he saw his brother’s casket for the first time.
![Alvin Pugh's family receives a flag at Pikes Peak National Cemetery in Colorado Springs, Colorado on Thursday, Aug. 15, 2024. The family members, from left, are Kennedy, Horace and Patti Pugh. (Photo by Hyoung Chang/The Denver Post)](https://i0.wp.com/www.denverpost.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/08/TDP-L-CastlePines081524-cha-1317_d6a46d.jpg?fit=620%2C9999px&ssl=1)
“It felt more like, this is real,” he said.
It also felt like proper closure.
A childhood friend of Alvin’s who went to boot camp with him arrived out of the blue. And members of the Colorado Patriot Guard Riders showed up, held flags, and paid their respects.
“They kept on coming up to us and saying how honored they were to be there,” Kennedy said, fighting tears. “We were honored that they were there.”
When the burial service ended, and the small crowd of family and close friends drifted, Kennedy and one of his brothers laid their hands on Alvin’s casket. They took a moment — an overdue and final goodbye.
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