h of July is always a sad time for me......I remember when I was 8 years old , my brother was serving aboard the USS Fulton, a sub tender during World War II. We had a small flag with a blue star sewn on it hanging in our front window, although I didn't really know what it represented, I know my mom would get tears in her eyes whenever she looked at it. She said it was "for Bobby"..... The BLUE STAR FLAG was a symbol of love, pride, hope and grave concern. It also became a symbol of what Americans at home could do to increase a mother's chance of seeing her son's safe return: rationing, working in factories building needed materials, and even reminding all at home that "loose lips sink ships". The Blue Star Flag, visible from the windows of many houses up and down any given street in America, symbolized a pride in the commitment of America's youth and a reminder of the gravity of the entire war effort.
We prayed every night that Bobby would be safe and come home to us.....and he did.
Bob was my oldest brother and my hero. I loved school...spelling was my forte. Every week we would have a spelling test, and I always proudly brought home my paper with a big 100% on it. Then each Saturday morning I would write a letter to Bobby and enclose my spelling test. I don't know how long it took for my letters to reach him, but they did. Bobby would send me a return letter(s) with a dollar bill inside....my reward for the 100% papers.
Our school Principal, Irma Grace Riley was a great believer in school assemblies. I went to Edward Rosewater School in Omaha, NE and every Friday the classes from kindergarten to 8th grade would assemble in the school's big hallway and together we would recite the Pledge of Allegiance and we would sing.
I know (and remember) every verse to The Star Spangled Banner, America the Beautiful, Over There, The Caissons Keep Rolling Along, and all the patriotic songs she could find. Many of my classmates and teachers had fathers, husbands or brothers stationed "over there" and we were honoring them in our own little way.
The Fourth of July reminds me of what our brothers, sisters, fathers and mothers fought for.
...and I cry for those who died keeping us free. Listen to these songs.....listen to the pride in the voices and the determination in these words. AND
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