But I’m not sure why this would demand respect.
I find it a bit amazing that this question has been asked. Yet, I’ll answer:
The concept of respect has it’s roots in perspective, namely that the object of respect has a different perspective than the subject. English linguistic development following Shakespeare illustrates that we show respect out of a desire to learn and potentially emulate those we observe. Initial sixteenth century usage reflects this meaning: To regard, consider, take into account or To heed, pay attention to; to observe carefully. By the seventeenth century value was implied, namely because the subject was inevitably moving toward the position of the object and observation could prove useful to the subject: *To relate to, as regards the effect or result produced and, finally, To treat or regard with deference, esteem, or honour; to feel or show respect for. *We show respect by observing, noticing, or marking the lives of others because their actions can inform our behavior when we arrive in their situation.
Blazeman dealt with the situation of impending death - which is also our situation - very well, in a way that deserves notice and recognition (you can dispute this). He lived out the ideals latent in Dylan Thomas’ poem Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night that I, and many others on this board, would like to live out.
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.