‘We hope to send him off grandly’

SINGAPORE — Seemingly oblivious to the rain, they lined the streets of the financial district, waiting to catch a glimpse of Mr Lee Kuan Yew’s funeral procession as it passed.

Some came as early as 8am to make sure they got a good spot, and by the time the procession began at 12.30pm, the streets were packed with people clutching umbrellas against the lashings of wind and rain.

A group of some 200 pilots from Singapore Airlines (SIA), SilkAir and SIA Cargo from the Airline Pilots Association Singapore (ALPA-S) were among those present. Said Mr Tan Peng Koon, ALPA-S honorary secretary: “Without him, there will not be an airline (SIA).” The group, which has clashed with Mr Lee over wages, stood near the NTUC centre.

Like the archetypal pragmatic Singaporean, Mr Ng Chee Siong, 39, did some research the night before to determine which would be the ideal spot. Said Mr Ng: “The heartlands might be congested...and waiting at some of them might mean standing on overhead bridges looking down on his casket, which I felt was a sign of disrespect.”

Another said he circled the area the previous evening to suss out the best spot to watch the procession.

Many came with foldable stools and snacks. Some were not expecting the heavy storm, but volunteers were on hand to gave out free umbrellas and ponchos.

Mr Ang Peng Xiong, 72, waited about three hours, perched on the foldable stool he had brought, and did not budge even when the rain began to fall. “This is the last thing I can do for him,” said Mr Ang, who came all the way from his home in Pasir Ris. “What is waiting for a few hours compared to the years of hardworking and the effort he (Mr Lee) put in?”

Although everyone was eager for a prime spot, there was little jostling and people were more than willing to share their umbrellas and tissues with those next to them.

Teacher Trina Pook, 36, came with her family, including her four-month-old son. Said Ms Pook: “The offices are all closed on Sunday and I didn’t want the streets to be empty when Mr Lee’s casket pass by.”

Many in the crowd carried flags, both large and small handheld ones, which were distributed by volunteers. One family even attached the flag to a stick. “I thought it will be easier to wave at him (when he passes by). We hope to send him off grandly,” explained Mrs Wendy Neo, 47, who came with her family. Her husband Reno Neo, 49, had cut short his business trip to Shanghai in order to pay his final respects.

As the police sirens sounded to clear the streets, some climbed up onto elevated platforms and craned their necks anxiously to spot the procession’s approach. For a moment, only the heavy patter of rain against the concrete pavements could be heard, occasionally punctured by children asking: “Where is it?”.

Moments later, at about 1pm, growing cheers of “Lee Kuan Yew, Lee Kuan Yew” signalled the arrival of the procession.

Mourners instantly whipped out their phones to capture the moment, waved their flags and saluted. Tears also welled up in the eyes of many — including one man in a wheelchair who gingerly wheeled himself forward. Other elderly members of the crowd struggled to stand unsupported against the strong winds.

Ms Dorothy Pang, 54, was emotional after the hearse went by. Her eyes reddened, she said: “That feeling of unity with other Singaporeans...I am at a loss for words, the feeling is indescribable. The casket went past quickly but I’m still glad to be here to bid my last good-bye”.

Other large groups that came include employees and their families from DBS numbering about 400, who bore a large banner thanking Mr Lee for their contributions. Another group of 80 representatives from Jamiyah Singapore came at about 8am. “We are waiting to bid farewell to Mr Lee Kuan Yew for making Singapore what it is today...We are securing a place to make sure that we can bid farewell (to Mr Lee),” said the association’s vice-president Dr Hameen Mohamed Saleem.

When procession passed, the streets grew quiet again as the crowd dispersed. Only a smattering of bright pink flowers on the road — tossed onto the street when the cortege passed — remained to mark Mr Lee’s final journey past the thriving city centre he and those of his generation helped build.