The Chicago Sun Times introduced me on the front page of The Suburban News of its midweek paper on February 14, 1980, by titling the article - “Meet The Flag Lady”.
Twenty-six years later I am still “The Flag Lady” - of The Flag Lady’s Flag Store in Columbus, Ohio.
Now, I will briefly share with you some of “The Rest of the Story”.
To begin, I am a railroader’s daughter. I was raised in a low-socioeconomic neighborhood and I was graduated from Columbus North High School. My father (”Daddy”) was Irish and my Mother was German. Daddy had an eighth grade education and Mother had a sixth grade education.
Daddy’s family served in the Revolutionary War and the Civil War. Mother was the third generation born in the U.S.A.
I was raised in a family steeped in patriotism.
From the time I can remember I was programmed to think about “The Red, White and Blue.” My Grandmother Haley always carried a 4×6″ USA Flag in her purse . When I asked her, “Why?” She responded, “Who knows, I may get a chance to wave it today.”
My Mother’s rule was always, “Don’t ever lay anything on top of the Bible and never let the Flag touch the floor.”
Mother and I always put our hands over our hearts, and Daddy put his hat over his heart, during the National Anthem or when Our Flag passed us in the parade.
When President Franklin Delano Roosevelt was on the radio with his “Fireside Chat”, I was directed to be at the radio to hear him. When the Star Spangled Banner was played, Mother, Daddy and I stood beside the Philco radio and placed our hands over our hearts and faced the east. As I got older, I wondered if we did that because we were facing Washington, D.C.
When my big brother, Bobby, (14 years older than I, went to World War II), my Mother displayed our flag from the porch, put the Star in the Window, and dressed me in Red, White, and Blue.
Those years are indelible in my mind. It was a way of life. The family was very proud of Bobby and we waited for his letters (sometimes censored) and we made sure he got letters from home.
Daddy wanted to do something more so he was an Air Raid Warden. When the lights went out in the city and he put his helmet on and carried his flashlight out the door I felt very safe. He and I picked up scrap metal in the biggest and best wagon for blocks around and took it to the Sohio station. Mother exchanged her nylon hosiery ration stamps for the sugar ration stamps.
Almost every weekend, after Daddy got off work on Friday, we took the train to Indianapolis to see our family. During The War it was a sight to behold for a little six year old girl. The white-haired ladies offered their seats to the miliary men. Sometimes, when we arrived in Indianapolis in the middle of the morning, there would be ladies in the train station with home-cooked food for the “boys going overseas” - one more good meal before leaving for The War.
On Saturday mornings after breakfast with Grandma and Grandpa Haley, we would walk across the biggest park in Indianapolis to the home of my Grandma and Grandpa Pfeiffer. I loved the trip across the park. I saw trucks with red crosses and other trucks picking up the military men. While all of this was going on there were bands playing, flags waving, a parade of people marching by carrying big flags with both hands, people saluting, putting their hands over their hearts and men holding their hats over their hearts.
There was one song that helped me figure out (in my little mind) what Mother and Daddy meant when I asked them, “When is Bobby coming home?” They would answer, “When it’s over, over there Bobby will be home.” This is what I memorized of that song and it made sense to me:
“Over there, Over there send the word, send the word that the Yanks are coming, the Yanks are coming, and it won’t be over ‘til it’s Over, Over There.”
Life went on. I married my high school sweetheart and we were blessed with three children. Our older son, Andy, elected to join the U.S. Navy when he graduated from High School. After boot camp, his ship was sent to the Mediterranean and then the Iranian Crisis happened. His ship was there in case the military went in.
On the radio there was a disc jockey, in Chicago, saying over and over: “Fly your flag, put a candle in the window and a yellow ribbon around the tree.” That really excited me. It reminded me of my Mother displaying the flag, putting the Service Star in the window and dressing me in Red, White and Blue.
I put the candle in the window and the yellow ribbon around the tree, but I couldn’t find Our Flag anywhere. I went out to buy a flag, but not one merchant anywhere had Our Flag in stock. They told me to come back during “flag season”. That really upset me. Tom, my husband said, “Why don’t you do something about it?”
I did just that: I did something about it! I found a wholesaler who wouldn’t sell retail, but I pled my case with him and he finally, he sold me A Flag. Then I asked him if he would let me sell Our Flag door-to-door in Libertyville (which was fifty miles from Wisconsin). I loved the name Libertyville. I pled my case. I told him I could sell Our Flag because I was raised in a family steeped in patriotism; my family served in the Revolutionary War and the Civil War; my big brother served in WWII; and my son is in the U.S. Navy off the coast of Iran. I finally convinced him. He gave me twelve flags and told me to have the money back to him the next Saturday for the flags. Off I went to drive 35 miles back home and knock on doors.
One day, while I was out ringing door bells, a gentleman nearby heard my sales pitch and came over to me and asked, “Am I hearing you right that you are selling Our Flag from the trunk of your car.” I answered, “Yes, I am.” He said, “May I interview you for an article in The Libertyville News?” The next week the article was entitled “Woman Sells U.S. Flag Door-to-Door.” That helped my business. The next week I sold the biggest flag flying in Libertyville.
On the coattails of that The Chicago Sun Times called me and asked if they could interview me for an article in the paper for the President’s Week.
It was entitled “Meet The Flag Lady.”
On that day - February 14, 1980 - my life changed.
Now you know the rest of the story.
“God Bless You and Yours and God Bless America.”
