September 11th is my birthdate. What a birthday present! I heard about the flag run about the time the flag was leaving South Carolina moving into Georgia. Immediately, I was struck with an overwhelming sense of love for my country and pride for my fellow countrymen. After signing up to run, i followed the progress of the flag as it made its way across the country. Each time I brought up the pages on the run I experienced a strong feeling of patriotism and purpose.

I've thought many times about the Towers and the Pentagon, and about all those people and the thousands of stories that will come out of that terrible time. How could human minds devise such animal like activity? How could someone hate that much? How could such a thing happen in our civilization?

Like most other Americans I felt so angry, and so helpless. What could I do? Too old to enlist, I felt bound-up in frustration.

When I heard about the flagrun I could understand the terrible anquish that must be felt by every United and American Airline employee. I am sure they will never be able to express their feeling of remorse and helplessness at being unknowingly and innocently attached to the horrible attack. Yet, they are guiltless

Utterly and completely. I suspect it was from that frustration and hopeless anger, the flagrun idea was born.

And so, all across the country, a cause was presented to people like me, and you, and you.

Saturday evening, Nov. 3rd, the flag passed within a half mile of my home in Albuquerque. Having pedaled our bikes over to the corner of Rio Grande Blvd. and Griegos Road, my wife Jackie, and 11 year old son, Charlie and I cheered and jumped and waved our arms as the entourage came around the corner. We were bursting with pride and glory for Old Glory. We could hardly wait until the following day when I would serve as a designated runner out of Magdalena, 100 miles away.

As the next day unfolded, I found myself building a tension of anticipation that I had not ever experienced. Every once in a while, I found myself pausing to think about how lucky we are to live in this great country. How blessed we are with our civilities, and how vulnerable we are in our openness and love. As the departure hour approached for our trip from Albuquerque to Magdalena, I must have checked the van for all our necessities five or six times. Was I excited? I was almost hyperventilating!

To be able to carry the flag! What a thrill. What a privilege!!

Our drive to Magdalena took us along the flagrun route. We passed the flag when it was still about five miles out of town. Hooking our horn and hanging out the window cheering. The flag paused for about half an hour for ceremonies at the Magdalena town hall. A grand buffet was laid out for the incoming runners. Speeches. The flag was passed around. Never allowed to rest. Never put in a stand. Always in someones hands. Pride and joy on every face. Then it was time to proceed.

I ran the first leg out ot Magdalena. My spirit had never been higher; adrenaline was pumping.. I ran too fast. Spurred on by the three,young policemen from the Magdalena force. Maybe the entire force. Magdalena is a very small town up in the mountains of west/central New Mexico. I quessed this might have been the biggest event to ever hit the small community. Certainly, the most heartfelt.

I was running with a little lady who lived in Magdalena. Earlier at the town hall she told me she ran three miles every day. I think her name is Amy Lewis. I hope I have that right. As we rounded the corner onto the main road (Hwy 60) My heart swelled as Charlie dropped in beside me. He took the flag for a few yards then handed it back as a crowd of support runners closed in around us At the edge of town it was suddenly dark. The wind was blowing about 10-12 miles per hour. It was like a special caress from god reminding us of our smallness, and his bouyant love.

Even now, three weeks after the run, I find myself pausing and gazing out my office window, remembering that feeling of euphoria with that special flag fluttered above my head as we strided out of Magdalena.

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