The freedom of my life was purchased
by the sacrifice of countless patriots starting in 1776, including WWII which
took the lives of two of my uncles. They were plucked from a Kansas
farm life and thrust into the most horrific experiences that anyone can
imagine. The Medic never returned home and the Guam radar operator
returned to a completely distorted life after jungle malaria and untold
demons. I remember my grandmother finding solace in the Gold Star Mothers
meetings she religiously attended and we sold poppies on Veterans Day to help
those who returned with injuries.
The fluttering flag is overlayed in
both the opening and closing of Steven Spielberg's engrossing film, Saving
Private Ryan. Ryan has brought his family with him to the vast Normandy
gravesite of the man who sacrificed his life to save his and our freedom the
flag represents.
The adults of this
era were scarred from the horrors of war and perhaps showed some restraint to
the children that were spared the experience. But now in retrospect, I understand and truly appreciate
their sacrifice and courage. I also understand that freedom is not
free and is always just one generation from being lost. I do not
appreciate those today who take our freedoms so casually. And when
it comes to respect for our flag and all that it stands for in this great
nation, I will not defend the right of those who denigrate it.
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