Flags

I have always been fascinated with flags, and the way people treat them. As a child living on a navy base, 4:00 pm meant everyone was going to stop playing and face the base flag pole while the music was piped throughout the base. In the 60s, most businesses and homes that chose to display the US flag did so between sun-up and sun-down. Our scout troop even raised money for camp by setting up flags in front of businesses on national holidays. I remember my scoutmaster having to go to the police station when some Hell's Angel stole one of our flags from a main street of Richmond, California.

While I was in the Army, there was always a certain comfort, while traveling in Germany, to driving through a town that was host to a US military facility. The stars and stripes could be seen flying proudly insid the kaserne. It meant we were "home".

I was priviledged a few times to be assigned flag detail. We met under the flag pole early in the morning, and when the bugle played, we ran the flag smartly up the flag pole. In the evening, we slowly brought her down, folder her up and marched back to the staff duty office.

When I was stationed at Goodfellow AFB, in San Angelo, I commanded a funeral detail once, for a Silver Star winner, a veteran of the Second World War. We folded the flag that was on the coffin, and I presented our nation's colors to the widow, with the Army's gratitude and deepest sympathy. This was a detail taken very seriously.

Now it's 2010, and flags fly all over the place, in all weather and 24 hours a day. We will see how they are doing, this summer.

By the way, the Alief neighborhood in Southwest Houston is the most international place I have ever seen. People from all over the world live here, and it is reflected in the flags flown over local businesses.