As I walk my Manahawkin neighborhood, the same streets I walked to trick or treat as a 12-year-old over 50 years ago, I pass homes and cars displaying the Red, White and Blue. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about two ways people fly our flag.

The first is my father’s way. His way is with pride and tenderness, kind of the way you show photos of your children when you are far from home. The way a locket is worn when it contains a soft curl left by a loved one.