My smart blog 1461

I have always liked the quiet conversation a flag starts. On a breezy Saturday, when the neighborhood wakes to lawn mowers and bike bells, a bit of fabric can say here is what I honor, here is where I come from, here is the story I carry. When I raise a historic ensign on my porch, a Betsy Ross or a Gadsden that I inherited from my grandfather, I think about where he stood when he first tied that halyard, and who he saluted. What Flying a Historic Flag Means to Me is not a