This is how Saints, New Orleans said goodbye to Will Smith

His name is Frank Moran, and he was one of the first in line to arrive at Will Smith's casket.

He had brought something with him on this cloudy, somber Friday, something to share with Smith and the hundreds of mourners who came to say goodbye at the Saints' training facility.

Moran stood on the indoor practice field, at the 50-yard-line, and lifted his horn to his lips. The sounds of "When The Saints Go Marching In" filled the quiet building. And some of those waiting behind him, in the darkness, began to cry.

Smith’s wife, Racquel, was here for the memorial, in her first public appearance since her husband’s fatal shooting last Saturday in what police call a road rage incident after a night out in the city. She was shot once in each of her legs that evening, and arrived here in a wheelchair. She stayed for more than two hours with her three children, comforted by friends, Smith’s former coaches and teammates, and Saints owners Tom and Gayle Benson.

Saturday is Smith's funeral, and will be held in private, but Friday was for everyone – the public that cheered for him in the loudest of times and now grieve in silence. The Saints opened their facility to the public at 2 p.m. here, but many lined up long before. When people walked in, they saw tributes to Smith along a black ropeline: a photo of him and Racquel; lockers from his high school, from Ohio State, and from the Saints; huge posters of him during his playing days, including one of him closing in on Peyton Manning; and videos of his highlights interspersed with more photos of him with his family. Then there was his casket, covered with flowers, next to the Lombardi Trophy he helped win.

Smith's career here encompassed the most memorable days of the team's half-century history. There was the arrival of Sean Payton and Drew Brees, the horror of Hurricane Katrina, the ascendance to the Super Bowl title, the bounty scandal, and an era of seemingly constant emotion. Smith, who played in nearly every Saints game from 2004 to 2012, was there for all of it, spending countless hours in the practice facility where many fans who never met him came to say goodbye. It was perhaps an unintentional but fitting tribute that the rowing machines and exercise bikes were stationed along the wall Friday, as Smith worked most of his life to be a Saint.

There were former teammates and coaches as well: Sean Payton, Cameron Jordan, Lance Moore, Marques Colston, Malcolm Jenkins, Reggie Bush, Charles Grant, Roman Harper, Jahri Evans in a Smith jersey, and others. Steve Gleason came early, moving his wheelchair to the back of the gathering, underneath the huge poster of his famous blocked punt after Katrina. He appeared emotional, and after many of the fans had made the procession, Gleason approached the casket too.

	Eric Adelson @eric_adelson
Photo of Will Smith and wife Racquel next to a replica of his high school locker. pic.twitter.com/Z4pKRuZdz6 12:05 PM - 15 Apr 2016

"It's a hurting feeling," said Grant's cousin, Derrick Ware, who lives in Kenner. "I was seeing all those pictures of him, and I have pictures of him. I haven't even erased his number out of my phone."

The line to get out of the facility was as slow as that to enter, as fans stopped to sign a guestbook for the family. There was also a text number for anyone who wanted to send thoughts by phone.

"Very emotional," said Ulyesses White, 46, his eyes rimmed with tears. "Seeing the whole atmosphere, the pictures. I have lost loved ones myself."

Smith was supposed to be back in this building as a first-time coaching intern this summer, perhaps the start of another career helping the team. Instead he was here on Friday for the last time.

After the first swell of mourners left, others trickled in throughout the afternoon, coming from work or from farther away. Some dressed formally, as for a funeral. Some dressed in jerseys, as for a game. That has been the sense all week in this city, people torn between gratitude for Smith's life and sadness at his passing. New Orleans has a history of violence, but the overwhelming sense is that this loss, this memorial, shouldn't have happened. Smith was 34, done with playing but just starting his second life. Tragedy is always possible – everyone in New Orleans knows that – but a week later, this all still seems impossible.

"We have too much gun violence," said Parnell Smith, who drove an hour to be a part of the visitation. "We need to stop this."

Some of the mourners went from the facility in Metairie to the heart of the city for a "second line" tribute on Friday evening. That procession was planned to move through the city blocks where Smith spent his last hours, toward a makeshift memorial near where he died.

"Musicians bring your instruments," declared an online bulletin about the gathering.

	Eric Adelson @eric_adelson
Just an amazing scene. vine.co/v/itXE0ZVDgma 4:27 PM - 15 Apr 2016

There would be much music on Friday night for Smith, but nothing quite like the single horn that played at his casket. They marched in one more time for this fallen Saint on Friday, and a song played for him.

The notes were familiar and strange, fleeting and lasting, uplifting and still so very sad.