Flags Around Washington D.C.

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One of the many flags ringing the Washington Monument.	A flag with the Washington Monument as the background.	This flag hangs over the Korean War Memorial.	This flag hangs over the Vietnam Memorial.


Just some of the many flags in the Kennedy Center.	The Eisenhower Building.	The Capital.	This flag stands at half-mast over the Police Officers' Memorial.
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Following is a little something I received recently in an e-mail. Please take a moment to read through it! I AM THE FLAG OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 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 at me 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 then 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-worn and tired, but my soldiers cheered me And I was proud. 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. MY NAME IS OLD GLORY LONG MAY I WAVE. DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN LONG MAY I WAVE
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