On September 13, two days after the attacks, we raised it, with our children’s help, to half staff. Our six-year-old son enjoyed pulling the halyard; on its way up the peeling white-painted pole, next to the big maple tree in the front yard, the flag made an interesting and satisfying sound, partway between a squeak and a ring. We’d read up on halfmasting protocol, which dictates raising the flag briskly to the peak and then slowly bringing it halfway down. George said, “This flag is lowered now, but it will rise again, just as our country will.” It is useful to have children around at such times: they authorize clichés that their parents deeply believe but might otherwise hesitate to voice. Neither George nor I had ever owned a flag, not even a little one to wave on the Fourth of July. The closest George had come was the pair of stars-and-stripes bell-bottoms he had worn in the sixties (in violation of section 176d of the United States Flag Code: “The flag should never be used as wearing apparel, bedding, or drapery”).
What do You think about At Large And At Small (2007)?
