Rows upon rows of red, white, and blue blur past my passenger's seat window. Outside, the flag’s patriotic colors dance on a windy, May day. Here, at Wisconsin Memorial Park, I come to see a family grave but end up seeing much more. Bouquets of flowers with Americans flags are perched upon headstones lined up by the hundreds. My eyes turn glassy as I look at the three colors, thinking about what these men had given up for me and our nation.
Red. The color of men’s blood shed for this country. Fifty states remain united, strong through determination and will. Courage seeps through our land—from young men like Jacklyn H. Lucas who enlisted into the Marines at the age of 14 during WWII to women like Harriet Tubman who assisted in leading slaves to freedom.
White. The color of a clean, uncorrupt government. The American Dream lives inside each citizen. America is a nation safe from the terrors around the world—from John F. Kennedy’s Peace Speech addressed to the Soviet Union to the 55 delegates who came forth to build democracy and lands full of liberty.
Blue. The color of justice given to the accused by the Constitution’s 6th Article: “the accused shall enjoy a public trial by an impartial jury.” Justice lived on August 18th, 1920, when the 19th Amendment was ratified, giving women the right to vote. Our country is driven by citizens perseverance—from men in battle, whose friends have perished beside them, to the 55 thousand men who fought for freedom in the eight year Revolutionary War.
The memory of rows upon rows of red, white, and blue blurring past my passenger’s seat window on a windy, May day still reign in my memories. There, at Wisconsin Memorial Park, I find the meaning of patriotism. It is what America is shaped on, the love for those who have made our country greater through the red, white, and blue.