The line to see Queen Elizabeth II lie in state stretched from Westminster Hall, across the River Thames and then past the London Eye and the Tate Modern and Tower Bridge. On Thursday night he made it all the way to Southwark Park in South East London. A government tracker on YouTube said Thursday night that it was nearly 5 miles long. That was an understatement, though. A government spokeswoman confirmed to the Washington Post that the distance measured was “as the crow flies” and did not include the zig-zag maze of the home’s grounds. But the mourners were undaunted. Their beloved monarch has died and they are determined to pay their respects. If they have to wait eight hours? Ten hours? They would rather sooner than later, but they are fully committed. After all, queuing is what the British do. Americans like to call it a “line,” but that word doesn’t quite capture the near-sacred, rule-bound nature the British have developed of waiting patiently behind someone to accomplish a goal. Asked to explain the meaning of the British queue, Robin Wight, 78, launched into an impassioned speech. “Queuing is something we have in Britain. … We’re used to being obedient that way,” said White, who was about a five-minute walk — or more than two hours away — from the front. “But this queue is unlike any other queue I’ve ever been in. Because everyone here is here for one purpose: to see the queen.” William and Harry walk together behind Queen Elizabeth II’s coffin “If you go to Stansted Airport, you’re queuing up for your holiday. Well, that’s okay,” he continued. “But here, this is not a queue, this is a magical moment that we all share together.” When he finished, thousands around him broke into (polite) applause. This reporter got in line around 6 p.m. on Wednesday afternoon, meeting people who planned to stay up all night if they were to see the queen’s coffin, which lies in state — draped in the imperial standard and bearing the crown of the imperial state on a purple velvet pillow — until funeral on Monday morning. I was quickly trained in queen queue decorum. Get a wristband with a number and obey that number. Stay in line. Do not push or push. Do not cut. There was a rumor that someone, six snaking rows ahead of us, tried to jump the queue. But then someone else pointed out that this was not verified, as if to suggest that the idea itself was slightly scandalous. The closure for the Queen’s funeral is causing consternation across the UK It later emerged that the lawmakers had been given passes to jump to the front of the queue along with four guests of their choice – which, predictably, caused an uproar. “Revolutions were sparked by less,” wrote the Telegraph’s Tom Harris. For context: In a major Brexit speech in 2018, then-Prime Minister Theresa May called on Europeans in Britain to queue up. This was considered a serious insult. People queued for more than seven hours overnight to see Queen Elizabeth II lie in state at Westminster Hall on September 14. (Video: Alexa Juliana Ard, Karla Adam/The Washington Post) In line for the queen, people formed small families in line. As the hours passed, they came together and offered comfort. Biscuits and tea and, sometimes, stronger drinks were shared. Strangers who normally never spoke to each other in public situations were suddenly fiercely loyal. If you needed to use the restroom — there were portable “reliefs.” This was a well-planned queue, after all — then your family in line held your place in line. Everyone had a story about the Queen: about times they saw her or met her or received a medal from her or had her as their boss. Surveys show that around a third of Britons have met or seen the Queen in person during her 70-year reign. “The Queen personally put it around my neck. It was a magical moment,” said Wight, the philosopher of tails, of 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 would stay here for 30 hours if I had to.” Hilary Beckley worked as a chef for Princess Margaret, the Queen’s sister, and Beckley’s husband Gary worked as a palace carpenter. “We met through the royal family. We’ve been married 31 years,” Beckley, 61, said. “We couldn’t not come.” Of course, the Queen was not just the UK’s head of state, but 14 other countries — and head of the Commonwealth, which covers a third of the globe. Her death has sparked mixed feelings in places affected by the legacy of British colonialism. And many Commonwealth realms are reassessing their relationship with the crown. In former British colonies, ghosts of the past haunt the mourning for the queen But Queen Elizabeth II also had admirers around the world, with many explaining that they separated her as a person from imperial power. The queue for the Queen was testament to her international appeal. The top three ladies were from Sri Lanka, Wales and Ghana. The Washington Post also interviewed from India, Bangladesh, Ireland, Germany, Sierra Leone, the United States, Spain, Italy, Hong Kong, China, Australia — to name a few countries. They talked about her mostly scandal-free life, which made her a model, and her children’s scandalous lives, which made her seem human. They cited her devotion to country, sense of humor, work ethic, foreign travel, longevity. 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 dine with the queen, who was visiting one of her kingdoms. “She has given her whole life to this country and to all other countries,” he said. “I think she’s worth standing in line for.” The queen tail has become itself. This is not the “mother of all queues” — that title may be retired. This is “The Queue”. “I don’t particularly care for the queen. But the queue? The queue is a triumph of Britishness. It’s unbelievable,” one social media user wrote in a post that went viral. #QueueForTheQueen was trending on social media. Another pointed out that “queue” is a beautiful word: “The real important letter and then four more waiting silently behind it in a row.” The Queen was very funny, as James Bond and Paddington Bear discovered For those of us joining the queue on Wednesday night, it started off pretty well. We moved along at a decent clip — offering a false sense of optimism about how this would all play out. About four or five hours later, things started to look bleak as we hit the zig-zag section, reminiscent of a bad day at the airport. We learned that a royal guard standing by the Queen’s coffin passed out around 1am, bringing everything to a brief halt. Then, finally, we were inside. After 7-1/2 hours of casual conversation in the queue, the scene inside Westminster Hall was completely different. Mourners entering the hall, with its cavernous hammer-beam roof, were met with silence. Still in regular line, we were led past the queen’s coffin, on its raised dais, guarded by soldiers wearing bearskin hats. Some mourners bent and collapsed or nodded or whispered “thank you.” Anyone inclined to linger was induced by the officials to signal that it was time to leave. “It’s a whole different atmosphere in there, the world around you stops and you’re in the moment,” Megan Foy, 35, said after leaving the room. She was there with her husband and their 9-month-old daughter and said they had “only” queued for six hours, arriving at the hall around 2am. , referring to her stroller. But for our part of the queue, the wait was not over. A funeral rehearsal was underway in the early hours of the morning and no one was allowed to walk in the area around Westminster while the soldier practiced his march. And so, along with everyone else who had just left the hall, we were back in another queue.
