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We all watched as the flag came by. It was the first
thing in the parade, of course. Great big one, carried by two of the
kids from the ROTC at the high school. The bands followed, along
with the mounted patrol, the ski patrol in their summer-weight
jackets, the float with the princesses on it, and the local kids
leading dogs and cats – some rather reluctantly – on leashes.
For some of us, the Fourth of July parade is a chance to see just
how much the local kids have grown over the past year. For others,
it’s a chance to see something that is really ours. This is our
parade. These are our people. These are the people who make our
little valley unique in the whole world. This is a chance for us all
to get together and celebrate us, you know?
But all that comes later. What comes first on this day above all
others is the American flag. Oh, it’s a great big one. Where they
found this one, I don’t know, but it takes two high school boys to
carry it. It really doesn’t matter what size it is, because it’s
what it means to us that counts.
To Herb over there, there are memories of his terrible days in
Korea, I’m sure, and the wounds that sent him home early. To Doc,
maybe it’s the way the G.I. Bill let him go back to college and
fulfill his life’s dream of taking care of sick people.
To Annette, over across the street there, there is a look in her
eyes that tells us that flag meant she could protest whatever the
complaint-du-jour was during her college days. She knows there are
few places in the world this tolerant of unpopular opinions.
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There’s Dewey down on the corner. He’s got his hand
over his heart as the flag goes by. Maybe he’s thinking of a country
that will allow him to start a business with a borrowed pickup and a
shovel and supply our flower beds with fertilizer. He sure hasn’t
been able to make anything else work for him, so far.
But these are just speculations, because what the flag means to each
of us is personal. We don’t have to tell anyone. We never have to
explain. We even have the freedom not to be here looking as the flag
goes by.
It’s an American thing. A very private American moment.
[Text from file received from
Slim Randles]
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American flag. United States flag.com.
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