And The Flag Flies High
There’s no doubt about it. Those of us who lived through the Viet Nam years simply will never again allow a single veteran to feel unappreciated, hated even, “NOT EVER,” as my youngest grandson would say.
No, we lived through that era once, and once was enough to last us through many more lifetimes, and never was that more obvious to me than it was on November 11, 2011, as I drove across the Texas countryside.
I wasn’t at all happy that morning about having to miss our local Veterans Day celebration because Comanche Mayor Ronnie Clifton does know how to put on a good show, and each year I am reminded all over again just how much I love this country and how thankful I am to those who defend it with their very lives.
No, I was not happy when I left home early that morning, but it wasn’t long before I realized that I was in for a treat, a Texas-style Veterans Day that extended throughout what seemed to be most of the state! Before my day was done, I also realized that I had experienced a special blessing, a day filled with smiling faces and flags waving in what truly seemed to be “From the Mountains, to the Prairies, to the Oceans, white with foam.”
As I returned home late in the evening, I found myself rethinking the day and the fact that I did not find even one town, village, hamlet, or city that did not have flags flying in the Texas breeze. In addition, I found hundreds of pieces of children’s artwork on the walls of schools, and chambers, and Dairy Queens, and so many other places.
It was with all of this in mind that I entered the little town of Dublin, Texas and found that the Rotary Club members had worked their usual magic with the flags that flanked either side of the road on which I drove. Combined with the soft evening breeze, the red, white, and blue flutter and the patriotism it exuded was almost magical.
Truly, what I had believed was just going to be a very long trip turned out to be so much more. I know that all of you join me in saying GOD BLESS AMERICA.