The history of the American flag is quite an incredible story to not only read about, but to also learn about. The collective red and white horizontal stripes representing the thirteen British colonies that sought and obtained their independence from Great Britain in the American Revolutionary War and the 50 small white 5-pointed stars representing our great 50 states. While the history and story of our flag could and does fill volumes, I’ll just impart a few little thoughts here.

While Christmas shopping a few weeks ago, a little boy, no older than about 5 or 6, was running around a garden center waving a small American flag. I smiled to myself as I watched him as it’s not something you see every day. After a while, he got bored with it as another bauble caught his eye and he dropped the flag on the ground. At that age, he obviously knew no better, so I calmly walked over, picked the flag up off the ground, rolled it up and placed it gently on the counter. His father saw me do this (he didn’t see his son drop the flag) and began profusely apologizing to me. I simply replied, “Sir, absolutely no problem, he’s just a little boy.” What happened next was just awesome. The father knelt down, called his son over to him and explained that the American flag should never touch the ground. He went on to tell his son that nothing should ever be below it and it should never get dirty or damaged. He then smiled at his son and said “Ok, bud?.” His son then smiled back and replied, “Yes Dad, sorry.” His dad then looked up at me and smiled and I smiled back, trying to hold back the tears. It was moment in time that I will never, ever forget.

I have my father’s casket flag (he was a WWII vet who served in many locales overseas) neatly folded in its representative tri-corner manner (meant to resemble a tri-cornered Revolutionary War hat) displayed in a beautiful handmade white oak case. It sits on a table in my apartment with a few other military mementos and is always in my view. I recently moved into my bosses’ old office at work and he also had a small, folded flag in a case which was found tucked away in some old closet in our building many years ago. We have absolutely no idea whose flag it was, what its meaning was or if it came from a military funeral, but here it sits. My boss knows about my background and he gave me the encased flag to put in my new office. I was and am very honored to have it…and, it is pictured below. While I don’t know the owner of this flag, it is being displayed with honor, respect, reverence, and admiration for whomever or wherever it came from.

To leave you with what I believe is the best description of our beloved flag, are the lyrics of the song “Ragged Old Flag,” written by Johnny Cash in 1974, during one of the most turbulent times in our history, (which coincidentally was the year I joined the United States Marine Corps).

I walked through a county courthouse square
On a park bench an old man was sitting there
I said, your old courthouse is kinda run down
He said, naw, it’ll do for our little town
I said, your old flagpole has leaned a little bit
And that’s a ragged old flag you got hanging on it

He said, have a seat, and I sat down
Is this the first time you’ve been to our little town?
I said, I think it is
He said, I don’t like to brag
But we’re kinda proud of that ragged old flag

You see, we got a little hole in that flag there when
Washington took it across the Delaware
And it got powder-burned the night Francis Scott Key
Sat watching it writing say can you see
And it got a bad rip in New Orleans
With Packingham and Jackson tuggin’ at its seams

And it almost fell at the Alamo
Beside the texas flag, but she waved on though
She got cut with a sword at Chancellorsville
And she got cut again at Shiloh Hill
There was Robert E. Lee, Beauregard, and Bragg
And the south wind blew hard on that ragged old flag

On Flanders field in World War one
She got a big hole from a Bertha gun
She turned blood red in World War Two
She hung limp and low a time or two
She was in Korea and Vietnam
She went where she was sent by Uncle Sam

She waved from our ships upon the Briny foam
And now they’ve about quit waving her back here at home
In her own good land here she’s been abused
She’s been burned, dishonored, denied, and refused

And the government for which she stands
Is scandalized throughout the land
And she’s getting threadbare and wearing thin
But she’s in good shape for the shape she’s in
‘Cause she’s been through the fire before
And I believe she can take a whole lot more

So we raise her up every morning
We take her down every night
We don’t let her touch the ground and we fold her up right
On second thought, I do like to brag
‘Cause I’m mighty proud of that ragged old flag

I would ask that in your travels over the holidays or at any time, if you see our flag raised high on a pole, hanging from someone’s home or building, or if it is displayed in some other manner, take a moment, and think about what it means…

The blood that was shed for it in conflicts near and far and for those that gave the ultimate sacrifice for it while serving our great country. The Star Spangled Banner always holds a special place for me and every time I hear it, a tear is always shed.

I’ll leave you with this…

If you’re reading this blog from inside the United States (or if you’re an American not presently in country) you’re here because of this flag and what it represents. Your freedoms, all you have and all you ever will have are because of this beautiful piece of colored cloth.

Please, please hold it with reverence.

It deserves at least that much.

Travelling to Center City Philadelphia each day for work is becoming quite wearisome. As you can well imagine, public transportation, the trains, train stations and that environment in general have within it a certain atmosphere that leaves much to be desired. The constant begging for money, rampant and open drug use, syringes laying on the ground, homelessness, obvious mental health issues and other things much too disgusting to mention here are all pretty much the daily fare. Fortunately, my military and law enforcement background has trained me to be in a constant state of situational awareness and I try and have eyes in the back of my very bald head, at just about every moment. I trust absolutely no one walking the streets and I am always on alert. Things can happen in a millisecond and I almost always “have a plan.” I know this is a difficult way to live each day, but it is just the reality of working in an exceptionally large American city. I chose this and have resigned myself to it…but it doesn’t mean I have to like it. I’ve just adapted.

Each day I often wonder how much longer I can do this. It’s been almost 7 years working in the most historic part of our country (I work about a block from Independence Hall and also did a 3-year stint at Pennsylvania Hospital back in the mid 2000’s) and I still find that I pretty much dislike the city. While the restaurants and nightlife can be quite nice at times, I don’t particularly prefer it. In my head, I’m playing with a 2-year plan for retirement and may attempt to go part time, but that remains to be seen. Don’t get me wrong, I do very much enjoy my job, but it wouldn’t take much for me to head to the door if I was disrespected or ill-treated by someone in a higher place of authority, (actually, this was exactly why I left Pennsylvania Hospital, but that for another time).

Last week, while walking to the train station, I came across what looked to be about a 50 to 60-year-old man passed out on the sidewalk. The temperature outside was about 30 degrees. Three or four other people had also stopped and I asked if anyone had called 911. One young lady was just getting on her phone and I stooped down to check his carotid pulse. It was extremely weak, and he was cold, sweaty, clammy, and barely breathing. His face color was gray. I did an extremely hard sternum rub on his chest to see if he would stir or awaken, but he did not. I feared for the worse. I rattled off his issues to the young woman who was relaying them to the ambulance dispatcher and a few moments later we could hear the sirens approaching. The two paramedics jumped in to do their job and two large doses of Narcan did absolutely nothing. One paramedic checked the man’s wrist and there were hospital bracelets on him. Then he said to his partner, “Hey, I know this guy, it’s Mike.” We got him onto the stretcher and off they went. All I could do was walk away and say a prayer for the guy.

Now, with all that said, you might think “you’re crazy for doing this every day.” And, you might be right. However, I’m where I’m at for a reason. As I said, I chose this and at the present time, I’m not being led to retire or head to the door anytime soon. I firmly believe we’re placed in certain situations, places and circumstances for specific reasons we may not yet know. And, what I have learned during my time in the city is that while the aforementioned descriptors of what I deal with each day seem terrible and repulsive, I believe this is my place…for “such a time as this.” So, what does all this mean? I believe it means that God has not relieved me of my responsibilities here just yet. It means that, for whatever reason, He has me here for a purpose. His purpose. And, I am sure when he relieves me of this responsibility, he’ll hopefully make it clear to me.

I do know one thing however…in my time working in the city, I never, ever look upon others with disdain or with contempt. Quite the opposite, as I have grown to have an affinity for and a certain empathy for those less fortunate than I. We’re called to “pray ceaselessly” and I find myself doing just that on almost a daily basis. I’ve said it before, this has absolutely nothing to do with religion, just a simple spiritual connection.

So, here I am. I will stay as long as I’m supposed to and will hopefully know when it’s time to leave…we’ll see. I certainly do not know why you may be in the position, place or circumstance you’re presently in, and it may be much worse or much better than mine. Just know that sometimes, there is a reason.

I have accepted mine.

Maybe think about yours?