<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<BODY.CONTENT>
<UID>
0109220267
</UID>
<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
010923
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Sunday, September 23, 2001
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
COM; CHOICES
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1E
</PAGE>
<ILLUSTRATION>

</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>

</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 2001, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
WHEN NEEDED, OLD GLORY IS ALWAYS THERE
</HEADLINE>
<SUBHEAD>

</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
That our flag was still there through the gloom and despair hanging on
porches, flapping in schoolyards painted on cheeks of young mothers whose
husbands are leaving to face the rockets' red glare, bombs bursting in air and
our flag is still there

 Through weeks of despair that flag was still there When death came on silver
wings towers in ruins, bodies in flames, when up from the ashes a dark smoke
arose and lingering there, like a child unaware, waiting till mother or father
came home but they are never coming home Hearts everywhere, offered a prayer,
and in the midst of that gray rubble square a flag was still there

Did you even know two weeks ago where your stars were buried? Where your
stripes were stowed? Behind boxes and crates? Behind mowers and rakes? So
taken for granted this symbol of freedom, tucked behind charcoal and snow
boots and rusty old bicycles, but . . . when the call came to show that we
care we all did the same our flags were right there

 It has not always been the most respected cloth Burned in protest mocked and
ignored But when, as a nation the time comes to mourn at half-staff it flies
from morning till dawn And when we are stirred as a people of might it soars
high on ships It says "We are right in this fight, we are right" It pulls out
of port It augurs "Beware" The flag that's still there

 Those broad stripes and bright stars are now hanging in bars and diners and
Kmarts and windows of cars We've even heard stories of seeing Old Glory
tattooed on arms, or stitched through the night then purchased on sight When
this war began the first thing we ran out of, in fact, the only thing that
this great nation ran short of was flags. Flags everywhere And the flag is
still there

 Oceans of banners now, armies of flags, sea to shining sea's worth of flags
We wave them at baseball games, during the "stretch," we wave them at cameras,
at airports, at friends Never before have we seen such array the country
bedecked in a single display It's like one shirt, one blouse, one pair of
shoes red, white and blues It's all that you wear the flag, that's still there

 I never did feel the strength of those words that Mr. Key wrote often sung
but not heard "Gave proof through the night" that she was still there what a
wonderful, comforting image we share We cherish it now, it shows that we care
that our hearts will repair And through this despair this much we can swear we
bend but don't break we are united, these states, Look outside -- a new dawn's
early light And our flag is still there.



  Contact MITCH ALBOM at 313-223-4581 or  albom@freepress.com. Catch "Albom in
the Afternoon" 3-6 p.m. weekdays on WJR-AM (760) and simulcast on MSNBC 3-5
p.m. Also catch "Monday Sports Albom" 7-8 p.m. Mondays on WJR.
</BODY>
<DISCLAIMER>
THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION MAY DIFFER SLIGHTLY FROM THE PRINTED ARTICLE.
</DISCLAIMER>
<KEYWORDS>
COLUMN
</KEYWORDS>
</BODY.CONTENT>
