Theirs Looked Brand New

September the 11th is forever etched in the minds of Americans for many reasons. It has become a dark cloud that hovers over our nation as this tragedy unfolded before our very eyes compliments of the media. Through the billowing smoke and fire pouring from the World Trade Center, a giant American flag was unfolded and draped from the roof of an adjacent building held by what appeared to be four New York City firemen. It has always been that way with Americans. From the very beginning, when we were but mere colonies of the great British Empire, we have flown that flag in defiance of tyranny and in the name of freedom. People from all over the world have traveled here to live under that Star Spangled Banner to form this ONE NATION UNDER GOD.

During my travels after September 11th, I’ve noticed many flags being flown from automobiles in my hometown. These flags represented nations worldwide and many flew the OU crimson flag depicting the University of Oklahoma’s recent national football title. Every flag sparkled and fluttered from atop the cars as they traveled down the byways and highways. These flags all looked brand new, and the occupants were obviously proud of what they represented. I came to a stop at a red light and noticed my American flag was somewhat shredded at the corners from several days of rippling in the wind. When I looked at her more closely she seem to reveal the story we too often take for granted. A hole appeared in the top left corner near a star. It surely was from a shot fired by a British Red Coat at the battle of Valley Forge, when our rag-tag ill- trained army flew her in front of the mighty British in rebellion to tyranny and the English Empire.. There was a slice in the middle, no doubt, from a flamboyantly dressed Mexican lancer as his horse pranced and snorted prior to the last attack on the Alamo where Crockett, Bowie and Travis with 180 volunteers flew her defiantly from the top of an old adobe church as they waited for Colonel Fanin and the reinforcements which never came. The anger was evident as General Santa Anna sent 5,000 troops to storm the Alamo for the last time, as that bunch of rebels and that old flag had held his mighty army at bay for much too long as it was. As I reached out to touch her, there was a wet spot from the tears that were shed at Gettysburg when Americans fought Americans in our own Civil War. She went limp for a moment when she recalled those terrible years during the 1860's when so many of us died at Bull Run, Shiloh and Vicksburg as the world watched to see if we would survive. We did survive and all that we now stand for survived as she flew again for all to see.
It wasn’t long before she was carried to foreign soil in the first great world war, the war that was to end all wars. But that was not the case, for yet another tyrant appeared in Europe and another in Asia. It was the Emperor of Japan who silently sent his military to destroy our navy at Pearl Harbor as he declared war on America. She was battered at Pearl Harbor, but her brilliant and defiant colors flew high at Iwo Jima as an American Indian by the name of Ira Hayes helped hoist her over the bloody and battle- scared land where so many of us died so far from home. She took a long deep breath and gave a tired sigh as she looked back from her lofty perch on the island of Japan and then Berlin. It was finally over. But it seems never to be over as she appeared on the battlefields in Korea at Pork Chop Ridge and Hamburger Hill and then on to the Ashau Valley, the Iron Triangle and Khe Sahn in Vietnam. She flies over the wailing wall in our nation’s capital where 58,000 names are inscribed in dark granite stone as the final episode to the war in Vietnam.
It was 6:00 a.m. September 29th, 2001 when I heard a diesel pickup pull through the gate of our hunting camp. My friend Leonard Baker and I had camped for the weekend to work on deer blinds for the upcoming season. The pickup was driven by his daughter, and it had to be trouble for her to be here at daybreak. I heard her tell Leonard in German that I should call home immediately. Something was wrong with my son, Bubba. A dozen scenarios flashed through my mind and none of them were good. I quickly called home on the cell phone. My wife, in tears, related that Bubba’s reserve unit the 507th had been activated. He was to report to Tinker Air Force Base immediately. She recalled when he volunteered for the Air Force I told her he would be alright and nothing would happen to him. My response was a poor one as I related that he was a responsible young man now, a senior in college with a wonderful wife, and a lifetime hunting license. She instantly snapped back that he was not a man and do not refer to her baby in such a trivial manner! I called him at his home and his wife Marsee answered and quickly gave the phone to my son. We agreed to meet at the Elgin Exit off of I-44 as he was en route to Tinker and had no time to spare. Somehow I was not really prepared for the image he presented as he drove into the convenience store parking lot. I remember him in many uniforms: from his little league days, the sophomore point guard on a state playoff team, and pitching a close game in the state tournament as a junior in high school. I was at his graduation at Lackland Air force Base when he led his flight during graduation from basic training and later the Security Forces, but this was different. This time he was geared and dressed for war! The strain on my face must have been more obvious than I intended or maybe after 21 years of being together he knew me a little better than I thought. He said, “It’s alright Dad,” as we embraced, “I am ready to go. It’s payback time for all those Americans at the World Trade Center.” Take care of Marsee and Mom for me and tell Ilka and Indra I will take them hunting during the waterfowler’s dream when this is over. On some of those special occasions the words just don’t come easily, but the understanding goes without saying. He put his beret on and returned to his car as he pulled on to I-44. I could see her defiantly showing her brilliant colors in the morning sun as she flew from the top of his car. She disappeared out of sight, destination unknown. My trance was interrupted by the sound of honking horns. The light had turned green and I was blocking traffic. My old hunting blazer lurched forward, and angry motorists quickly passed me by with their OU flags and other state and international flags flying in the breeze. THEIRS LOOKED BRAND NEW.

May God continue to bless you and America
vom Kervinshof
Shelby L. Kervin