All Somerville wanted to do was say thank you.
"That's why I'm here, just to thank him and pay respects to the Howe family and thank them for allowing us to be part of this," Somerville said.
Somerville wrote a message on one of two posters on the cinderblock wall outside the building, then walked through the door, into the arena and through the entrance to where the ice normally would be. So many people followed, old and young, dressed in suits and hockey sweaters and Red Wings apparel, and yet it was silent, the only sound the humming of the air conditioning.
Joe Louis Arena had become a cathedral. A red carpet led to Howe's closed casket, which seemed to sit upon an altar. Above him was his No. 9, lowered from the rafters and illuminated by a spotlight, flanked by the four Stanley Cup banners he helped win. His family sat to the right. Memorabilia from his career sat to the left, his Red Wings jerseys, his leather gloves, programs and photos and more.
Gretzky, Bowman, Kaline and Yzerman stood nearby. So did Howe's sons: Mark, Marty and Murray. Mark and Murray greeted mourners personally.
Second in line was Beverly Alfes, 60, of Harrison Township, Mich., who grew up watching Howe on "Hockey Night in Canada." She had taken her son to see Howe's last professional shift, with the Detroit Vipers of the International Hockey League in 1997 when Howe was 69, and she had arrived at 6:45 a.m. with a favorite image living in her memory.
"His twinkle in his eye," she said. "Whenever somebody tried something on the ice you saw that and you knew that person was long gone."
Down the line was Marti Miller, 79, of Grosse Pointe Woods, Mich., wearing a hockey jersey Howe had autographed and clutching Howe's autobiography, "And … Howe!" She had shaken hands with Howe once at the Olympia, and she had met Howe and his wife, Colleen, at a book signing. Tucked inside her book was a photograph of the moment and an autograph on the title page. Howe had signed it to "a great lady" with "kindest wishes."
"Well," she said, almost blushing, "he didn't know I was a great lady."
But that was Gordie, and that was why the line continued to stretch, hundreds, thousands, to 10 a.m., to 11 a.m. …
It is one thing to play in the NHL. It is another to be a great player in the NHL. It is another to be one of the greatest or maybe even the greatest.
It is yet another to be a great player and a great person, and to share yourself with everyone.
"To be that humble and polite and respectful to people," Yzerman said, "is good for us all to learn from."