Everyday, every month, all year my father flew the American flag, every night its was taken down, never allowed to touch the ground, then neatly stored until the next day when it was hung again outside the front door.
It wasn’t until late in my years that I understood why.
He was a proud man, a veteran of the Korea conflict, later to be called the Korean War. His father was a MASH Dr. He and his older brother served in WWII. If someone was to salute him he quickly said “at ease” – I was a gunnery sergeant”.
Later in life, I was able to gift him an American flag that was flown over the USS Arizona memorial at Pearl Harbor. We gave it to him before his 77th birthday after a Thanksgiving dinner. He was speechless which was a rarity for that old soldier. It runs in the family.
Aloha Hump Day