This was one I first read, actually scrawled on a latrine wall, of all places, during Basic Training at Ft. Knox, KY, 1976. I’ve seen it in various places since (generally nicer reading rooms than a latrine), and I'm sure many of you could say the same. It will stand tall for me today.

My father emailed the following to me (which recalled to me the above):

I AM THE FLAG OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA...

I am the flag of the United States of America.
My name is Old Glory.
I fly atop the world's tallest buildings.
I stand watch in America's halls of justice.
I fly majestically over institutions of learning.
I stand guard with power in the world.
Look up at me and see me.

I stand for peace, honor, truth and justice.
I stand for freedom.
I am confident.
I am arrogant.
I am proud.

When I am flown with my fellow banners, my head is a little higher, my colors a little truer.

I bow to no one!
I am recognized all over the world.
I am worshipped -- I am saluted.
I am loved -- I am revered.
I am respected -- and I am feared.

I have fought in every battle of every war for more then 200 years. I was flown at Valley Forge, Gettysburg, Shiloh and Appamatox. I was there at San Juan Hill, the trenches of France, in the Argonne Forest, Anzio, Rome and the beaches of Normandy, and Guam. I was held high at Okinawa; Korea and Khe-San, Saigon, and all Vietnam know me... I was there. I led my troops, I was dirty, battleworn and tired, but my soldiers cheered me And I was proud. I have been burned, torn and trampled on the streets of countries I have helped set free. It does not hurt, for I am invincible.

I have been soiled upon, burned, torn and trampled on the streets of my own country. And when it's by those whom I've served in battle -- it hurts.

But I shall overcome -- for I am strong.

In 1969 I slipped the bonds of Earth and stood watch over the uncharted frontiers of space from my vantage point on the face of the moon.

I have borne silent witness to all of America's finest hours.
But my finest hours are yet to come.

When I am torn into strips and used as bandages for my wounded comrades on the battlefield, When I am flown at half-mast to honor my soldier, Or when I lie in the trembling arms of a grieving parent at the grave of their fallen son or daughter, I am proud.

MY NAME IS OLD GLORY

LONG MAY I WAVE.

DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN

LONG MAY I WAVE

PLEASE FORWARD MY MESSAGE TO ALL WHO STILL LOVE AND RESPECT ME, THAT I MAY FLY PROUDLY FOR ANOTHER TWO HUNDRED YEARS...

Dan