Every afternoon on my way to pick up my little boy, I pass by this towering pole with Old Glory flying high. Although it never seems like there is enough wind to pickup and wave this massive symbol of our freedom, she always seems to be waiving.
Every afternoon on my way to pick up my little boy, I pass by this towering pole with Old Glory flying high. Although it never seems like there is enough wind to pickup and wave this massive symbol of our freedom, she always seems to be waiving.