Browsed by
Category: patriotism

Oh Say, Can You Sing?

Oh Say, Can You Sing?

Comments 0 Comment

In honor of the two hundredth anniversary of the national anthem, choristers are converging on the National Mall to stage the largest sing-along ever of “The Star Spangled Banner.” The National Museum of American History, which is sponsoring the event, is encouraging would-be warblers to join Anthem for America parties across the country. If there isn’t a party near you, just tune in and sing along with the huge chorus at 4 o’clock today.

What an anthem we have! One of the most difficult to sing of any, with a wide-ranging melody and a high note at the end. A strange sort of anthem for a democracy, when you think about it. “My Country ‘Tis of Thee” is easier, though undeniably British. Or even “America the Beautiful,” though it has its share of high notes, too.

Also interesting, I ponder today on Flag Day, is the fact that our anthem asks questions rather than makes statements. And it’s written in second person. “Oh say, can you see?” These features make it more conversational than most. It’s a song that wonders more than it pronounces, that marvels more than it prescribes. And in those ways, it is endearing.

(Manuscript of Francis Scott Key’s lyrics to the National Anthem courtesy National Museum of American History.)

Lonely Soldiers

Lonely Soldiers

Comments 2 comments


Last night we saw my brother off to a faraway post, where his (civilian) job is taking him for a few months. The international terminal was quiet; soldiers dressed in camouflage gear sat alone at the bar, flipped through magazines at the newsstand, called home one last time before boarding their flights.

We sat with Drew, chatted, had a beer. Before long it was time for him to pass through security and check into his flight. I waved until I couldn’t see him anymore; I watched as as he squared his shoulders and moved his tall frame toward the future.

I was struck by how alone Drew and all of the camo-clad seemed. Where they are going only they can go. What they are doing only they can do.

It’s a scene that plays out here every day of the week without fanfare, a scene I never think about but on which our easy lives are based. The timeless march of soldiers heading off to war.

Band of Brothers

Band of Brothers

Comments 0 Comment


I don’t know exactly what I was doing when “Band of Brothers” first aired in 2001. Raising children, I guess. But I’ve been watching it now, courtesy of Netflix, for several weeks, and the day after I view each episode I can’t get the music or the images out of my mind. The score is elegaic but forward-moving, perfectly suited to its subject, and it breaks my heart, as does the show.

I have seen war movies, plenty of them. But there’s an unrelenting power to these episodes that brings home over and over again what we owe to these men. What they did for us and for our country. The scenes are gray, colorless: the cold, the mud, the fear, the constant presence of death. And the soldiers, they are so very, very young.

I watched the final episode last night, and it was a comfort to learn the outcome of those E Company survivors, to know that they returned home to be mail carriers and earth movers. To live ordinary lives.

Half Mast

Half Mast

Comments 0 Comment


Today will be harder on many of us than the last few September 11ths, I think. Harder because of the controversies, harder because of the anger, and harder because today, at least where I live, is uncannily like that day: impossibly blue skies, a hint of fall, a day at first like many others.

In the last couple of years, three of our neighbors have erected flagpoles. There’s one next door, another across the street and still another at the corner.

I just walked past that one this morning. Will and Erica, our friends who live there, have each served more than one tour of duty in Iraq. Will received the Purple Heart. Their flag is the biggest of them all. It’s flying at half mast today.

Yankee Doodle Dandy

Yankee Doodle Dandy

Comments 0 Comment


It’s July 9. The firecrackers aren’t snapping and the flags aren’t flapping. What remains for me is the memory of James Cagney as George M. Cohan in “Yankee Doodle Dandy.” I can’t stop humming “It’s a Grand Old Flag,” “Over There” or “I’m a Yankee Doodle Dandy.” And I can’t forget the sight of that powerful little man going into one of his tap-dancing riffs. He is the essence of jaunty, of sticking out one’s chin and plunging into life. Was our country ever that innocent and optimistic? I replay the final scene of that movie, Cagney dancing down the steps of the White House after telling his life story to President Roosevelt, and I think yes, maybe it was.

The Sacred and the Secular

The Sacred and the Secular

Comments 0 Comment


Independence Day in the Heartland. Small flags flying. People unabashedly wear red, white and blue. A Methodist church and a sermon on national humility. All this has me thinking: How does a nation, founded in an age of belief, survive in an age of secularism? The Europeans have figured it out, but here in our earnest land, it isn’t as easy. We find it harder to say one thing and do another. Our nation is still young. At least we hope it is.