I recently spent a few days in the Windy City, and during that time I happened to read an article in the Chicago Tribune (June 11, 2009) about a trash hauler named Jeff Olson.
Olson, 34, has made it his personal mission to rescue American flags from landfills in Elgin, Ill. The story of his patriotism and commitment to save over 250 Old Glories from their inevitable demise reminds me of another flag story much closer to home.
My neighbors also love America, and they display that love almost every day of the year. Barring a blizzard or winds of tornadolike velocity, the flag of our nation flies unfettered on their property — a symbol of the pride they feel for their adopted country and in appreciation for all the blessings it offers those fortunate enough to live here.
It’s not unusual for Americans to be complacent about the freedoms we perceive as our birthright: equality, free speech, universal education, personal security and unlimited opportunities, to name a few. In pursuit of these liberties, and to escape the many injustices of an apartheid government, my neighbors emigrated from South Africa in 1988. With their two young children and nine suitcases (a container of household goods would arrive by ship seven months later), they entered the U.S. and began the “enormously difficult,” decade-long quest to become American citizens.
Apartheid was the law of the land in South Africa from 1948 to 1994. During those turbulent years, a system of racial segregation divided all South Africans into one of four identities: black, white, colored (mixed descent) and Indian. Apartheid favored the white minority and denied the right of citizenship to the black majority. Believing that the “consequences of apartheid” would limit opportunities for their children and destroy the financial stability and infrastructure of their homeland, my neighbors made the life- changing decision to leave.
The road before them was littered with obstacles, and on more than one occasion the dream of citizenship seemed well beyond their grasp. But like millions of immigrants before and after them, this family never lost sight of America’s great promise
When their daughter was only 12, she penned an insightful essay titled “My Greatest Gift.” In it, she compared the inherent evils of apartheid with the freedoms of democracy: “After living in South Africa their entire lives, my parents could no longer bear to live under the apartheid regime and they refused to let my brother and me grow up in an environment of oppression and discrimination. They decided that it was time to move to the United States of America, a democratic, free country. The South African government’s policy was one of rigid racial segregation. It imposed segregated education, transportation, employment, housing and public accommodations. Blacks were treated as second-class citizens. . . . In America, everyone has the freedom of speech, religion, a voice in government, the ability to make decisions, and the right to vote. . . . All in all, freedom is something that no one should take for granted.”
“This flag,” my neighbors told me, “was a citizenship gift from our close friends. We fly it with gratitude, and we will always protect it from harm. No matter where we are or what we are doing, we will never forget how lucky we are to be Americans.”
Every day, when I turn the corner that leads to my house, I look for their flag waving, and I am reminded of the struggle one family undertook for the privilege of flying it.
Suzanne Handler (suzannehandler@gmail ) is a retired mental- health educator living in Greenwood Village.
