And our flag is still there

That our flag was still there
through the gloom and despair
hanging on porches,
flapping in schoolyards,
painted on cheeks of young mothers
whose husbands are leaving to face
the rockets' red glare,
bombs bursting in air
and our flag is still there

Through weeks of despair
that flag was still there
When death came on silver wings
towers in ruins,
bodies in flames,
when up from the ashes
a dark smoke arose
and lingering there,
like a child unaware,
waiting till mother or
father came home
but they
are never coming home
Hearts everywhere,
offered a prayer,
and in the midst of that gray rubble square
a flag was still there

Did you even know
two weeks ago
where your stars were buried?
Where your stripes were stowed?
Behind boxes and crates?
Behind mowers and rakes?
So taken for granted
this symbol of freedom, tucked
behind charcoal and snow boots
and rusty old bicycles,
but …
when the call came
to show that we care
we all did the same
our flags were right there

It has not always been
the most respected cloth
Burned in protest
mocked and ignored
But when, as a nation
the time comes to mourn
at half-staff it flies
from morning till dawn
And when we are stirred
as a people of might
it soars high on ships
It says "we are right
in this fight,
we are right"
It pulls out of port
It augurs "beware"
The flag that's still there

Those broad stripes and bright stars
are now hanging in bars
and diners and Kmarts
and windows of cars
We've even heard stories
of seeing Old Glory
tattooed on arms,
or stitched through the night
then purchased on sight
When this war began
the first thing we ran
out of, in fact, the only thing
that this great nation ran short of
was flags.
Flags everywhere
And the flag is still there

Oceans of banners now,
armies of flags,
sea to shining sea's worth of flags
We wave them at baseball games,
during the "stretch,"
we wave them at cameras, at airports,
at friends
Never before have we seen such array
the country bedecked
in a single display
It's like one shirt, one blouse,
one pair of shoes
red, white and blues
It's all that you wear
the flag, that's still there

I never did feel
the strength of those words
that Mr. Key wrote
often sung but not heard
"Gave proof through the night"
that she was still there
what a wonderful, comforting
image we share
We cherish it now,
it shows that we care
that our hearts will repair
And through this despair
this much we can swear
we bend but don't break
we are united, these states,
Look outside -
a new dawn's early light
And our flag is still there.

For more information on the events leading up to the British assault on Fort McHenry in Baltimore Harbor, in September of 1814, you might check out:

The Real Hornblower; the Life and Times of Admiral Sir James Gordon, GCB --- by Bryan Perrett

The Dawn's Early Light; the Climactic Shaping of "the Land of the Free" During the Hazardous Events of 1814 in Washington, Baltimore, and London --- by Walter Lord, author of A Night to Remember

How Mr. Francis Scott Key became involved:

Attempting to resist the British troops maneuvering in the State of Maryland, Dr. William Beanes ("a 65-year-old physician), came under arrest by British troopers.

He managed to secure his release for a time, but then his ties to the United Kingdom (he was born in Scotland), placed him ("in British eyes") as a traitor to the Crown.

Dr. Beanes appealed to a neighbor for help, who happened to be the brother-in-law of Francis Scott Key, a Washington attorney.

Key went to find President Madison "and had himself accredited as a government emissary to the British commander. Next, he visited the British wounded, supplied them with writing materials, and offered to deliver their letters to the fleet, which he found laying off the mouth of the Potomac on 7 September."

The letters impressed a British commander, who was assured that the wounded were taken care of, and he "penned a note" that Dr. Beanes would be released.

But that release, it turned out, would be delayed, because of the British necessity to keep Dr. Beanes and Mr. Key aboard ship, because they had seen enough, possibly, to be able to reveal the British plans for the assault on Baltimore.

The two men were placed aboard the *Minden,* from which they watched the bombardment of the fort(s).

"...Dr. Beanes, worried about the outcome, kept asking Key whether the American flag was still flying above the fort. Key, who wrote poetry in his spare time, was scribbling lines on a piece of paper. With rising irritation, he replied repeatedly that it was. Beanes, glancing over his shoulder, read something about 'the rocket's red glare' and left the lawyer to his scribbling."

When finally placed ashore, Mr. Key continued writing his poem, "setting it to the tune he had picked up aboard the *Minden.* The tune was entitled 'Anacreon in Heaven' and had been composed by a John Stafford Smith specially for the Anacreontic Society of London, the major activity of which seems to have been drunken singing."

"Key's work was first published on 20 September in the *Baltimore Patriot* as 'The Bombardment of Fort McHenry,' but it soon became known as 'The Star-Spangled Banner' and after a while was regularly sung as the National Anthem of the United States of America."

--- from Mr. Perrett's book

Great Post, well done!

Let me share something with you that I have kept to myself for over 31 years - when I outprocessed out of the Army back in '70 . . . as I was exiting a bus while in "dress greens" at the Philly airport on my way home . . . a young girl around 17 or 18 years old came up to me and spit in my face, screamed at me calling me a baby-killer at the top of her voice, and then threw an empty beer bottle at me. She was immediately taken into custody by a patrolman who witnessed the whole thing, but that one incident hurt my very soul up to this very day. Taking a bullet for the team wouldn't have hurt as much as that young lady hurt me . . . I hurt so bad, but not just for me . . . for my friends and comrades-in-arms who didn't run off to Canada, but did their duty beacuse their country called upon them - they were never ever coming home again.

So, to see foks display our flag everywhere and to feel the genuine spirit of patriotism from little children, teenagers and adults alike . . . well, it most surely helps to put those bitter memories behind me . . . wave your flag with pride and display its colors with the knowledge that many paid a heavy price for you to do so.

God Bless America.

FReegards . . .

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