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LONDON — It is the queue to end all queues.
The mourners in the line — or queue as it is known here — on the first night to see Queen Elizabeth II lying in state were ready. They had heard rumors of a 30-hour wait time and were undeterred.
Their beloved monarch was lying in state and they would pay their respects. 2 a.m.? 4 a.m.? They would prefer earlier rather than later but they were in.
Plus, this is what British do. People from all over were queuing — the first three ladies were from Sri Lanka, Wales and Ghana — but they were here and, well, when in Rome …
Americans of course like to call it a “line,” but that word doesn’t quite encompass the almost holy rule-bound nature the British have developed of waiting patiently behind someone to achieve a goal.
And so it was that great symbols of Britain — the queen, the queue — are on vivid display as hundreds of thousands line up to pay their final respects to Elizabeth for the next four days.
The queue quickly became a thing of its own.
“I don’t particularly care either way about the Queen. But the queue? The Queue is a triumph of Britishness. It’s incredible,” wrote one social media user in a post that went viral. #QueueForTheQueen was trending on social media.
Another pointed out that queue is a beautiful word: “The actual important letter, and then four more silently waiting behind it in a line.”
The British government launched a “queue tracker” on YouTube, with up-to-date news on the state of the line, which by Thursday lunchtime, was approximately four miles long.
This reporter joined the queue around 6 p.m. on Wednesday evening, meeting people who were planning to stay up all night if they had to in order to see the queen’s coffin.
I was quickly educated in queue decorum. Get a wristband with a number and obey that number. Stay in the queue. Do not push or shove in the queue. Do not cut the queue. If someone does cut the queue, breathe heavily, but absolutely do not say anything out loud. It is okay to give people dirty or scowling looks, however.
There was a rumor that someone, six rows in front of us, tried to jump the queue but then someone else pointed out that this was unverified, as if to suggest the very notion was slightly scandalous.
People quickly made little queuing families. They may have started out as strangers, but as the hours dragged on, they knew each other’s life stories. They looked out for each other. Strangers who would normally never talk to each other in public situations were suddenly fiercely loyal. If you needed to leave to use the toilet — there were portable “loos,” this was a well-planned queue after all — then your queuing family held your place in line. Some fetched tea for each other.
Asked to explain the concept of British queuing, Robin Wright, 78, launched into an impassioned speech, describing the queue as a “magical moment we are all sharing together.”
Thousands around him broke into (polite) applause when he finished.
It’s 1am and I asked this British man to explain “The Queue” to me. After this impassioned speech, the crowd broke into applause. #Queue pic.twitter.com/SVAhr3pDGz
The night started out well enough, the queue moving at a decent clip, offering up a false sense of optimism about how it would all unfold, while taking mourners past the city’s landmarks like Tower Bridge, Tate Modern, the London Eye Ferris wheel, and then the covid wall memorial of hearts marking those lost — a shuddering reminder of the deaths over the last two years.
But about four or five hours on, it started looking bleak as the mourners hit the home stretch and reached the labyrinthine zigzag section, reminiscent of a bad day at the airport that foretold of much more waiting to come.
People banded together, offered comfort and swapped stories — many about the times they had met the queen, or seen the queen, or had a medal pinned on them by the queen, or had the queen as their boss. Polls show that about a third of Britons have met or seen the queen during her 70-year-reign.
“The queen personally put this around my neck, it was a magic moment,” said Wright, the philosopher of queues, about his Royal Victorian Order medal for raising millions for charity. “I really want to come and say goodbye to her, with all these people here … I’d stay here for 30 hours if I had to.”
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“We met through the royal family. We have been married for 31 one years,” said Hilary Beckley, 61. She worked as a chef for Princess Margaret, the queen’s sister, and her husband, Gary, worked as the carpenter. “We couldn’t not come.”
Joyce Skeete, 74, a retired nurse, has lived her adult life in London, but was born and raised in Barbados, where she was a star netball player. As a 14-year-old she was invited to have a meal with the queen, who was visiting one of her realms. “We had a chance to eat with her, but we couldn’t actually eat,” she said.
“I think for her it is worth queuing.”
The queen is not just head of state for United Kingdom, but for 14 other countries — and head of the Commonwealth, which covers a third of the planet. During her long reign, she made a point to regularly visit these countries.
For some, the queue on Wednesday night lasted just over seven hours. And then it was over. The scene inside Westminster Hall was very different. In the endless world of the queue, it had been chatty and upbeat as we supported each other through the ordeal, but inside the hall, with the coffin, it was quiet, solemn, and over quickly.
When mourners entered Westminster Hall, a cavernous, historic building with a hammer-beam roof, they were met with silence. The queen’s coffin is raised on a platform and draped with a royal standard flag and a crown and orb. As people passed by the queen’s coffin, guarded by soldiers wearing bearskin hats, some bowed and curtsied or nodded or whispered “thank you.”
After leaving the hall, Megan Foy, 35, together with her husband and 9-month-old daughter, said they had “only” queued for six hours, reaching the hall around 2 a.m. “We got to skirt around a little bit because of the buggy situation,” she said referring to her stroller.
“It’s a whole other atmosphere in there, the world around you stops and you’re in the moment,” she said.
But it wasn’t over.
The funeral preparations and rehearsals taking place in the early hours of the morning all around Westminster meant no one was allowed to leave as the soldiers practiced their marching.
And so together with everyone else who had just exited the hall, we were back in another queue.