In a world moving at hypertext speed it becomes nearly impossible for this generation to stop.  Stop simply to take in a moment, a brief moment in time.  Any moment in time, much less a moment that is filled with tradition that is becoming lost at hypertext speed. 

The tradition of the flag, the American Flag.  The Flag ceremony designed to honor the founding and traditions of this great country.  Considering the sacrifices of those who came before us, representing the ideals and traditions of our land.  One would think this stoppage for tradition would take place at a gold plated stand high on a mountaintop for all to see.  It does not.  It takes place at a make shift wooden flagpole anchored by two steel poles and a single bolt holding it to the ground.  The post is not gold, silver or even copper but rather wood, weathered wood anchored by steel pipes with no less then four layers of old white paint flaking from the strands of time.

You wouldn’t know it, that this old and weathered spot was anything less then gold plated by the respect it receives every morning and evening as the first and last order of business of the day.  These children and young adults remove their hats and stand at complete attention in silence and watch depending on the time of day. 

The whole day stops for all to see the simple act of raising or lowering the flag of the United States of America.  Watching these children come together from different creeds and colors, red, yellow, black and white removing hats, hands at their sides in silence displays a moment of truth.  Without iPods, or Wii’s video or stereo they stand in silence and in complete respect for the activity that is taking place before them. 

Respect for America too commonly lost at hypertext speed.  For those fifteen minutes each child and adult partakes in the fruit that will fill their souls for a lifetime.  Partaking from the same fruit of those who came and died before them, connecting them to their common past and building bonds as they create their own future.  Before political correctness, absolute commercialism and Super Wal-Marts made in China, there was a free America that as surely as the sun was rising above the Swan Mountain Range would stand for liberty and justice for all.   Here at this camp they believe it, and practice it everyday.  In a world that moves at hypertext speed our blessings are often forgotten, but here, everyday at this camp it is both the first thing and the last thing remembered every day.  These small acts of honor are not forgotten here at this camp, to the contrary, they are remembered and practiced everyday.

For my Family, my Club, my Community, my Country and my World.