The flag inside a triangular wooden frame that hangs on my wall, has a story.
It was given to me at my World War One Veteran grandfather's funeral in Sacramento, CA. I'm not sure why they gave it to me, or how I managed to keep it, as my crazy life evolved in the late sixties.
But I did. It's a huge flag and a neighbor of mine and I in Kent, WA held it up to the evening traffic coming up the hill on September 11. That was a special moment, I was a para-transit supervisor, it had been a horrible day and many of my drivers had bailed mid-route. I got home and we held that flag out high!
Then I folded it up respectfully and held on to it. Years later, I bought a frame for it and Steph figured out how to mount it.
She did an amazing job and now it hangs on my wall, proudly!
As 9/11 approaches, this is the story.