“Old Glory,” Old Laundry

by Woody

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“Old Glory” Treated Like Old Laundry

Looking at the photograph while inside the warmth of my home gave me chills.

The photo was taken two weeks ago more than 2,700 miles away from Southern California in Virginia; taken during Winter Storm Jonas; taken as Arlington National Cemetery was being buried beneath two feet of snow.

Snapped at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, the photo shows a proud member of the 3rd U.S. Infantry Regiment – also known as “The Old Guard” – keeping sentry during the blizzard.1foldflag

The Old Guard’s young guard is standing solemnly at attention, rifle resting on his left shoulder, both shoulders of his navy blue uniform coat dusted heavily with frozen dandruff.

His long vigil in the fierce conditions is more strikingly evidenced by two inches of snow that has piled up atop his dress cap like thick vanilla frosting on a fancy cupcake.

The chilly image gave me goose bumps of patriotic pride and a surge of gratitude for those who serve, and have served, in our military.

Another photograph, this one taken four days ago, taken in New Hampshire, taken late on primary night inside the campaign headquarters of Hillary Clinton, also made my spine shiver.

With sadness and with anger.

This photo was of an American flag crumpled on the floor in front of empty bleachers. Election night looked like laundry day.

Sadness. The warrior in The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier gave his life fighting for this flag. Anger. Our young men and women warriors sacrifice life and limb for it today.

These two photos, of The Old Guard on duty and Old Glory on the floor, reminded me of another image, this one recorded in my mind a few months past at the funeral of a local World War II veteran.

Charles Banker McConica, Navy veteran and family man and successful auto dealer and beloved friend and longtime admired member of the Ventura community, lived to be 94. The eulogies painted a beautiful and accurate portrait.

Son Jim spoke about how his dad was his biggest cheerleader. Son Charles recounted – one by one with examples of each – how his father exemplified the “Boy Scout Law” of being “Trustworthy, Loyal, Helpful, Friendly, Courteous, Kind, Obedient, Cheerful, Thrifty, Brave, Clean, and Reverent.”

And daughter Judy shared her parents’ cutest of cute meets, how her dad spilled salt in a USO dining hall in Belfast and her Ireland-born mom, seated nearby, suggested he superstitiously toss a pinch over his shoulder. The luck of the Irish ensued as their shared future held 69 years of marriage, three children, seven grandchildren and six great-grandkids.

The spoken words were poignant, but perhaps more so was the silent ceremonious folding of an American flag performed by two soldiers from Naval Base Ventura County.

Performed in slow motion, in full dress uniform, in a church so quiet you could hear your own heart beating, the speechless choreography of the two soldiers was as moving as witnessing a member of The Old Guard marching back and forth in front of the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.

After each lengthwise folding, the flag was pulled taught. Each fold was creased with care. Next came the triangular folds, each made with perfect corners, each creased with reverence, thirteen in all until the red-and-white striped portion of the flag met the blue field and white stars.

After the last corner was painstakingly tucked into an open edge, forming a triangle that represents a cocked hat to remind us of the soldiers who served under General George Washington, the two soldiers used their formal white gloves as though they were heated clothes irons and made the three edges crisp and sharp and perfect.

Hugging the folded flag to the chest as though it were as precious as a newborn baby, one solider then lovingly presented it to Charles’ widow, Rosena. Taps was played, more tears fell, and then the soldiers silently exited.

I wish the Clinton campaign staffer who ingloriously left Old Glory on the floor could have been at Charles McConica’s funeral. The New Hampshire photograph would have been different.

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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com.

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