I’ve been meaning, ever since I moved to my new house in Columbia, Maryland, almost two years ago, to hang an American flag from the front of my garage, facing the street. So I bought a flag of the right size, about five feet long and three feet wide. Then I tried to find a pole to hang it on. No luck. No local stores the right size. So I put the flag aside and started shopping online for a five-by-three flag that came with an appropriate poll. No luck. Next I looked in the catalogue of the American Legion, of which I am a proud member, and found exactly the right flag that came with a pole of the right length. I ordered it. It came. I hung it on the garage in front of my house.
Readers may not understand why a flag was so important to me. I should explain that I see myself as a patriot. I was willing to put my life on the line for my nation as part of my work as a signals intelligence spy on and off for thirteen years in Vietnam and, after the fall of Saigon, in other parts of the world. I believed deeply, to the very core of my being, that I was doing urgently needed work in defense of my beloved homeland.
So the stars and stripes are sacred to me. It is with both pride and love that I display the paramount symbol of my country in front of my house. May my beautiful flag portray to all who see it where my heart lies.