my brother-in-law, who went down to new orleans with Dad and I in november, gave this little story to all of us as our christmas present
I wanted to share it with you
[I changed the family name for privacy]
Smith's Old Glory
Greetings, allow me to introduce myself. I'm the Smith's Old Glory.
I'm an American flag, 50 stars, 13 stripes and a great symbol of freedom recognized the world over.
I was made in the USA but my story really starts in Baghdad Iraq, where I was flown over Camp Fernandez at the Baghdad International Airport. It was there I was to meet the first Smith, Master Sergeant D. Smith of the United States Army.
D. took me down from that flagpole and brought me back to Fort Bragg North Carolina. From Fort Bragg I went to New Orleans where D. gave me to his Grandfather, Donald Smith, who had been a Corporal in the United States Army during World War II.
I was happy in my new home with Mr. Don, as people in New Orleans fondly called him, until that fateful day in August 2005 when Hurricane Katrina hit the Gulf coast region.
Mr. Don had to leave his home for a safer place. I was to overhear later he had a terrible time downtown and at the Superdome, but that's another story and his to tell.
When the storm hit I was folded in the proper triangle, loosely covered in cotton and wrapped in a plastic bag on the top of his dresser, next to his medals. The wind raged outside, but I remained safe. It was later that day my problems began.
My troubles started when the levees in New Orleans gave way and the flooding started. Water poured in the house till everything, including me, was afloat. When the water finally subsided, I found myself under a pile of moldy debris, soaking wet.
It was there I stayed and waited till that day in November when I heard the back door being kicked in and the windows being busted.
I waited for someone to come.
No one came.
The next day there was yet again some noise outside. I saw two strange creatures dressed in yellow hooded suits, with boots and masks stumble into the house.
They were turning over furniture and throwing things all over the place. The next thing they did was to chop down and pry at a certain closet door, till it came down hinges and all.
I kept waiting for one of them to pick me up out of the water, but they missed seeing me and left.
The next day they were back, retrieving items, taking them to the courtyard. Again, they left without me.
Another day went by and I was still laying there, wet and depressed when suddenly I saw one of the strange yellow creatures come in again. This time he overturned furniture and debris as if searching for something. And to my joy picked me up and carried me out to the courtyard.
There he removed the strange yellow suit and mask. His name was C. and he was married to Mr. Don's oldest daughter. C. handed me over to S, Mr. Don's youngest daughter, who gently opened me up and placed me in a bath of clean water several times. She then put me in another plastic bag and carried me off.
From New Orleans we all drove to a northern state. It was here I was handed over to a VFW post where I was properly cleaned and then given back to the Smiths.
I live here now, with the Smith family and will proudly be flown outside on various appropriate days.
My only wish is that, God willing, when the time comes, I be passed down to the next Smith generation and remain with the Smith family forever.
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