Magpie and Muttonfly

You might say the birthday of the ”Stars and Stripes” was first celebrated June 14, 1885, in a one room schoolhouse made of stone.  The teacher, a nineteen-year-old Bernard J. Cigrand, stuck a small flag in an inkwell and asked his students to write an essay on the significance of the American flag.

Cingrand, you see, was the youngest of six children whose parents immigrated to the United States from Luxembourg. Being taught to love this great nation from an early age, it’s only natural he would grow to have a deep respect for that which sybolized all she stood for: the American flag. 

So, as he worked to sell scrap iron and rags to buy books …

… to sell books and Bibles for the US Book and Bible Club … 

… as a conductor on a steam barge …

… as a school teacher at Stony Hill …

… as a contributing editor of the Encyclopedia Americana …     

… as a Dentist, and finally, Dean of Columbian Dental College …

He worked to promote patriotism and respect for the flag.  He wrote books and pamplets; he submitted proposals and delivered speeches. Though he did witness President Woodrow Wilson issue a proclamation claiming Flag day as a national event, he did not live to see the final outcome:  President Harry S. Truman signing legislation officially designating June 14th as Flag Day.  

Flag Day still stands, though the meaning has faltered.  Sure, we fly that flag.  We fly it in daylight and the darkest of nights–be it calm, or blustery.  We fly it laden with grime, and dotted with holes.  When it becomes tattered beyond recognition, we toss it atop the garbage heap.

Seems we’ve lost the very thing Cingrand fought for: respect.

This year, as we unfurl the red, white, and blue let us stop and think of all it represents; let us treat it with the dignity it deserves … and teach others to do the same.