Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
(regardless of their poli-
tics) to a promotional logo
for a war I didn't believe
in. I knew several Edmonds
merchants agreed that our
Stars and Stripes had been
kidnapped. But in my con-
servative town, they feared
not fl ying it would threaten
their business. They felt frightened.
Their predicament reminded me of
those German shopkeepers who had
to stop saying “
Grüss Gott.
” And my
own town reminded me of those red,
white, and blue-drenched towns in
Ulster. Although to a far lesser degree,
I felt that here in my hometown, a
minority (of which I was a part) was
also being oppressed by a tyranny of
the majority. In defense of our fl ag, I
had to act.
I explained my concerns to
the president of the Lions Club. He
understood and agreed to have his
club take down the fl ags after a
week. It didn't happen. So, humming
“Yankee Doodle Dandy” to myself,
I marched through town collecting
and carefully stowing the fl ags. It was
a small, symbolic, and perhaps overly
righteous move on my part, moti-
vated by what I considered patriotic
concerns.
While some supported me,
many were angry. I was shark bait on
Seattle's right-wing radio talk shows
for several days. But now, when my
little town is a festival of Stars and
Stripes on holidays like the Fourth
of July, Presidents' Day, and Elec-
tion Day, everybody can celebrate
together because the fl ag fl ies for all
of us—even the peaceniks.
Many angry Catholics in Northern Ireland
have no fl ag. To them, the Union Jack is
“the Butcher's Apron.”
taken to extremes, abuse a minority
and bully it into silent submission.
As the rhetoric for the Iraq War
was ramping up in early 2003, a
situation in Edmonds, my hometown
north of Seattle, reminded me in some
small way of what I'd seen abroad.
This was a dii cult and emotional
time, with all the patriotic fervor that
comes with an invasion. Perhaps a
third of our town opposed the war,
and two-thirds supported it. The Lions
Club lined the streets of our town
with American fl ags and declared
they would stay there in support of
our troops until they fi nished the job
and came home in victory.
While I supported our troops, I
opposed the war because I believed
that the president knowingly lied
to get us there. When the Lions
Club erected all those fl ags—which
were normally reserved for patriotic
holidays—I became very uncomfort-
able. I wanted to embrace my fl ag,
but was put in a regrettable position
that doing so would be tantamount
to supporting the war. I felt as though
my fl ag had been demoted from
something that all Americans shared
