Children of the Manhattan Project

Web Master's Note: The below titled poem, "I Am The Flag", has been making the rounds on the Internet since the September 11th attack on the World Trade Center. We have received permission by the designer of this web page to include it here. Please send the following link to your friends and relatives so that they can view this tribute to "Old Glory"! http://www.childrenofthemanhattanproject.org/proud/flag_tribute.htm

    I am the flag of the United States of America.
    My name is Old Glory.
    I fly atop the world's tallest buildings.
    I stand watch in America's halls of justice.
    I fly majestically over institutions of learning.
    I stand guard with power in the world.
    Look up and see me.

    I stand for peace, honor, truth and justice.
    I stand for freedom.
    I am confident.
    I am arrogant.
    I am proud.
       When I am flown with my fellow banners,
    my head is a little higher, my colors a little truer.

    I bow to no one!
    I am recognized all over the world.
    I am worshipped I am saluted.
    I am loved I am revered.
    I am respected and I am feared.

    I have fought in every battle of every war
    for more than 200 years.
    I was flown at Valley Forge, Gettysburg,
    Shiloh and Appomattox.

    I was there at San Juan Hill,
    the trenches of France,
    in the Argonne Forest, Anzio, Rome
    and the beaches of Normandy, Guam.
    Okinawa, Korea and KheSan, Saigon, Vietnam know me,
    I was there.

    I led my troops,
    I was dirty, battle-tested and tired,
    but my soldiers cheered me
    And I was proud.

America has been attacked by cowardly fanatics
And many lives have been lost
But those who would destroy me cannot win
For I am the symbol of freedom,
Of one nation
Under God
Indivisible
With liberty and justice for all.

I have been burned, torn and trampled
on the streets of countries I have helped set free.
It does not hurt, for I am invincible.

I have been soiled upon, burned, torn
and trampled on the streets of my country.
And when it's by those whom I've served in battle it hurts.
But I shall overcome for I am strong.

    I have slipped the bonds of Earth
    and stood watch over the uncharted frontiers of space
    from my vantage point on the moon.
    I have borne silent witness
    to all of America's finest hours.
    But my finest hours are yet to come.

    When I am torn into strips and used as bandages
    for my wounded comrades on the battlefield,
    When I am flown at half-mast to honor my soldier,
    Or when I lie in the trembling arms
    of a grieving parent
    at the grave of their fallen son or daughter,
    I am proud.

Society for the Historical Preservation of the Manhattan Project