Flagman

On this particular day, if you happen to be in the area and pass through the Ruckersville, Virginia intersection where route 29 meets the 33, you might take note of how pristine everyone’s flags are. Brightly colored crisply intact American flags fly over The Market complex, McDonald’s, the antique market, and the Pioneer bank.

You have me to thank for that.

I am very cautious using the word Patriot. Because I’ve seen patriotism used like toilet paper in the wrong hands. Over and over.

But today, in this moment, I am going to call myself a patriot. At least, a partial one.

When I was a kid, the Boy Scouts taught me about respect for the American flag. That was enforced by society in general. That respect was reinforced during my 9+ years in the military where I actually met more than a few who had served in situations I am happy to report I never had to be in.

For most of us, we have no idea.

I don’t have a flag fetish. I could care less whether you fly one or not. We don’t, although we have Judy’s Dad’s folded Veteran’s funeral flag proudly displayed inside our library.

So here’s my thing. If you do choose to fly Old Glory, show some decorum. Especially if you’re a public-facing business.

My campaign to set the flag world right began many months ago at the Ruckersville McDonald’s drive-thru. As I sat waiting at the window, I admired how terrific their flag looked flapping in the breeze. But then my gaze shifted to surrounding pieces of landscape and I was appalled at what I’d been ignoring when I drove through there multiple times a week. The antique place had a completely faded, ripped to shreds flag. The Pioneer bank was in similar straits. The Market had a flag with good colors, but it was the flag that flew the highest at the intersection and got a lot of wind action resulting in massive tattering at the end of all the stripes.

Hmm. You know, if they’d gotten me my bag of burgers one minute sooner, I might have never looked around and experienced my conversion. I don’t know what snapped in me that day, but I just got a case of the ass.

I drafted up some boilerplate that went like this:

“I am an ex-Boy Scout and a Veteran. I saw your flag today and it upset me. The colors are faded. It’s in tatters. If you are not embarrassed, allow me to be embarrassed for you. I respectfully ask that you take your non-serviceable flag down and replace it. Or don’t fly one at all. Your retired flag should be disposed of properly. Please contact any Scout or Veteran’s group for assistance. Respectfully, Doug Bari.”

All 3 offenders at the intersection got that email and here’s how that played out.

The antique place was not the actual flag-flyer – their landlord was. However, the antique place wrote back and agreed with me and promised to notify the landlord and their flag was swapped out the next day.

I thought my email to the bank went to them locally, which is how I would prefer to handle things, but their email contact sent my complaint straight up the corporate chain. Boy. Not only did I get a personal apology email from the CEO’s right-hand guy, he promised to send a blanket email to ALL their banks to check their flags. The local bank branch swapped out their flag the next day as well.

But The Market was curiously silent. They’re the ones with the VW bus-sized flag. Whaddup. Oh, no, you don’t. Or as Glenn Close sneered in Fatal Attraction, “You’re not going to ignore me!” It took me a while to track down the correct management phone number, but after a few pass-offs, I spoke to the dude who mattered. He agreed with my flag critique and they had already arranged for a replacement, but because of the extreme height of their flag, it had to be replaced with a crane. Sure enough, about a week later, I happened to be passing through as the crane stuff was in progress.

I was feeling good about my corner flag situation. But then I felt emboldened. “Wow, that was pretty easy,” I thought to myself. In my head, I was rubbing my hands together a little bit.

It occurred to me I should continue to spread the love. I remind you I was only interested in businesses who curry the public and use the flag as a symbol of their value. I had no interest in walking up to private residences and getting shot in the face.

After turning south at the Ruckersville intersection, there’s a well-known HVAC company about a half-mile down the road. Family owned and proud of it. Sporting a very public American flag. Faded. In tatters. Right on the road in front of their storefront.

You know, part of me wonders why I even have to point this stuff out. I have reticent moments when I reconsider the harshness of my emailed complaint, but I end up not flinching. Maybe you need to read harsh so there’s no doubt in anyone’s mind what has to happen.

These are businesses owned and operated and frequented by Americans. And every one of them walks by that ratty flag each day and says nothing.

Allow me.

They didn’t email me back. Not all my recipients do. BUT…they had that baby swapped out in a day.

I did most of this heavy-lifting during the months leading up to my cancer surgery at the end of September 2024.

For a while, everything was cool, flag-wise.

And then…

September 27th, 2024. O-dark-thirty. Judy is driving me to Charlottesville for my operation. And that’s when I see the flag not-so-proudly displayed in front of a major Holiday Inn.

Okay. You just wait until I heal up, motherfuckers.

During my healing weeks, I sent my message to that Holiday Inn. I got no reply, but the next time we drove by, their flag had been changed out. And may I say how nice that beautiful symbol looked, waving crisply in the breeze.

As we drove by, I saluted their new flag and proudly said to Judy, “I did that.”

My work remains in progress. My web has now officially spread to inner Charlottesville. I currently have 3 sites in my crosshairs.

One is an expensive apartment complex owned by ReMax – their flag is just atrocious. I mean, really. Contacting the right person took a few tries, but eventually I found someone in their housing authority who agreed with me and promised to notify the proper authority.

It’s been a couple of weeks so I’ll be driving down their street in a few days, hoping for change.

My second reach-out was to the General Dynamics corporation – they have a large presence right off the main drag into Charlottesville and their flag is embarrassing. That email went to corporate. I just can’t believe that a company making large sums off government contracts has hundreds of employees and customers trafficking in and out all week and nobody notices their flag looks like a shredded dishrag.

Damn, man. C’mon. Petty cash. Somethin’.

My boilerplate email was flung their way about a week ago. Don’t worry. I’ll be passing by and checking up on them in a few days as well.

And now my latest nab. A dentistry clinic run by some cool lookin’ chicks. Except flags are not us. They have strands of a flag left. My email went to them this morning. We’ll see what happens.

Not too long ago, I had to contact our area’s largest trash removal service. I was in traffic behind one of their behemoth garbage trucks and flying from the back was a filthy blackened flag made of nothing but tatters.

I got their license number and called in a complaint. I was told the situation would be remedied.

A week later, I’m behind the same truck, still with this embarrassment flapping away.

Sometimes you gotta go corporate. That problem has been fixed, thank you.

Here’s the good news in all of this. Most of the flags I see look stellar. Displayed properly and proudly. I’m encouraged, because in my personal experience, I find more good than bad in this world.

Judy and I were talking recently and she was saying when she went to Europe in her early 20s, one of her first impressions was an American embassy with Old Glory waving above. She said seeing our flag gave her comfort. A feeling of security you could always depend on. Even if you were in a foreign land.

Traditionally, a flagman is defined as an employee of the railroad who is assigned to protect anyone performing work on a railroad right-of-way. They act as safety guards.

There is a pride I feel in being a flagman of sorts. Trust me, I’ve been around the globe a tad and I remain convinced that with all its flaws (including mine), America is hands down the greatest country in the world.

America doesn’t always get it right. But you know what? A lot of the time, we do. And we do that best together. When we fly our flags proudly. When we do overall good and can look back and say –

“I did that.”