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"Fly the flag," my father told me as he handed me the flag he purchased for me. "Always fly the flag."
As a child, I never fully realized the extent of the military service my father, two of his brothers, two of his sisters and other relatives experienced in wars and conflicts to ensure democracy and freedom.
My father was a proud U.S. Marine until the day he died.
More than that, he was a proud American, a first-generation immigrant who served. As part of the Pacific Campaign, he saw first-hand the sacrifice his fellow soldiers made. He returned safely home while others arrived in caskets, missing limbs and psyches fighting daily battles dealing with the horrors of war.
War truly is hell, and freedom is not free.
My father understood the flag raising at Iwo Jima's Mount Suribachi came after a 36-day battle where thousands of Marines perished and thousands more servicemen were wounded.
He was later stationed in D.C. where he watched the artists creating what we know as the Iwo Jima Memorial.
The view of that flag raising always moved him.
Although the flag has morphed through the years, it always has been and will be, the symbol of E Pluribus Unum -- Out of Many One -- the United States of America.
Like all families, we may be dysfunctional at times, fighting, arguing and disagreeing, but may we always respect one another and stand up together for the democracy afforded us by our veterans of yesterday, today and to come in the preservation of this beautiful kaleidoscopic melting pot known as America.
On Flag Day, let us pause to remember that the flag we see so freely flying was bought at a price. All gave some, some gave all.
For that we give thanks on June 14 and every day.
Robin Yurky
Irvona