Avery has Awakened!

We're so excited to announce the birth of our fifth little grandchild, and our second little princess--Miss Avery Kaye Long, born Thursday, July 29th, 2010 at 1:05 p.m. She weighed in at 6 pounds 7 1/2 ounces with a head of dark hair.

Forgive the play on words. Amanda and Nick chose the name Avery because they liked it after hearing the title "Awakening Avery."

We're thrilled. Today is also the fifth anniversary of Amanda's kidney transplant, so this is an especially wonderful miracle!

Photos will be posted soon. Thanks for indulging a grandma!

COMMON THREADS: The Mouse Trap Story

I'm still tweaking book four and preparing to speak at a youth conference. I could still use some more responses, (particularly from some men) for the survey on marriage characteristics. If you haven't taken It please do. And if you have, trade your hubby a kiss if he'll take it. Thanks!

Because this has been the most hectic summer of my 53 years I've been digging through my files for blog filler. This story is one of my favorites. If you've seen it before, it's still worth re-reading, and if you haven't, you're in for a treat. Enjoy! And wish me luck. The deadline on my extension deadline is fast approaching. But "Oh Say Can You See?" promises to be a great book when it's released! Warmly, Laurie
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THE THREAD IN OUR LIVES

A mouse looked through the crack in the wall to see the farmer and his wife open a package. What food might this contain?"

The mouse wondered - he was devastated to discover it was a mousetrap.

Retreating to the farmyard, the mouse proclaimed the warning. "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!"

The chicken clucked and scratched, raised her head and said, "Mr. Mouse, I can tell this is a grave concern to you, but it is of no consequence to me. I cannot be bothered by it."

The mouse turned to the pig and told him, "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!" The pig sympathized, but said, "I am so very sorry, Mr. Mouse, but there is nothing I can do about it but pray. Be assured, you are in my prayers."

The mouse turned to the cow and said "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!" The cow said, "Wow, Mr. Mouse. I'm sorry for you, but it's no skin off my nose."

So, the mouse returned to the house, head down and dejected, to face the farmer's mousetrap alone.

That very night a sound was heard throughout the house -- like the sound of mousetrap catching its prey.

The farmer's wife rushed to see what was caught. In the darkness, she did not see it was a venomous snake whose tail the trap had caught.

The snake bit the farmer's wife. The farmer rushed her to the hospital, and she returned home with a fever. Everyone knows you treat a fever with fresh chicken soup, so the farmer took his hatchet to the farmyard for the soup's main ingredient. But his wife's sickness continued, so friends and neighbors came to sit with the farmer around the clock. To feed them, the farmer butchered the pig.

The farmer's wife did not get well; she died. So many people came for her funeral, the farmer had the cow slaughtered to provide enough meat for all of them.

The mouse looked upon it all from his crack in the wall with great sadness.

So, the next time you hear someone is facing a problem and think it doesn't concern you, remember -- when one of us is threatened, we are all at risk.

We are all involved in this journey called life. We must keep an eye out for one another and make an extra effort to encourage one another.

THE TIMES THEY ARE A CHANGIN'

I came across this article some time ago. It's absolutely authentic, from Good Housekeeping magazine. The date--13 May 1955. It's a little hard to read, but give it a try, and consider how things have changed. It seems laughable compared to our day, but think Donna Reed or June Cleaver. Now you have the picture.

My mother followed most of these counsels. When I was a small child she always looked date-ready when Dad arrived home--a dress, pearls, perfect hair, high heels, house picked up. We knew our place as well.

Over time, finances became tighter. She got a job, Dad travelled more. She shifted from dresses to slacks and sweaters; the pearls gave way to scarves. They "modernized."

Dinner was always on the table each night and we were still expected to be in attendance whether Dad was in town or not, but we became individuals during the sixties and seventies, and I challenged everything. My dad called me a rebel. I thought I was just being an informed intellectual.

When I married I naturally pulled from my memories of home and added my own flair. I instinctively wanted many of the images from that article before I had ever seen it--the happy husband coming home to happy children, dinner on the table with the family gathered around. No, I didn't want to stand at the door like a muted rover with slippers and his evening cocktail, but I counted myself blessed to be able to stay home with my children during their early years. I recognized that hubby was out in the battlefield while I was home training the troops, and he needed some R&R as much as I did. I tried not to pile the daily problems on him as soon as he crossed the threshold and in turn I counted on his arrival to lihgten my load. In short, I trusted that if I had his back, he'd have mine. We were a team. Not competitors.

So, my life became a mix of the periods. No shy violet, I'm outspoken and opinionated--a Good Housekeeping rebel, but personally, I miss some elements of the Ozzie and Harriett lifestyle. Certainly not all of it . . . but some.

Some day, when book four is printed and life slows down, I'll re-type this whole thing, but for now it serves as a measuring stick, a reminder that while some changes are essential, some things are worth holding on to.

WHAT MATTERS MOST WHEN CHOOSING A SPOUSE?

I've been asked to present a workshop on dating and marriage and I thought it would be fun to collect some real-time data to include. I've set a survey up on "SURVEY MONKEY." It's anonymous and quick but it will make you think. The survey will be up until midnight, Thursday 7/29. Results will be posted shortly thereafter.)

(I'm so sorry! For those of you who took the survey before 7 p.m. Sunday, you'll have to resubmit your answers to be counted. We found an error in the set-up and we redesigned the survey to collect the data more specifically. My apologies.)

Here are the links:

MEN can click here. WOMEN can click here.
Thanks!

DECODE THESE PHRASES AND WIN SOME FAMILY FUN!

It's hotter than Hades here in Maryland, so I assume lots of families are hunkering down by the A/C and getting a little stir crazy. Here's a little word puzzle to help you pass the time. No, it's not about American history, but it's a fun play on words, and I do love words!

This would make a fun Family Night quiz or a teaser at a family reunion. Offer a prize. Put a free dinner on the line! Decode these and send your answer list to me by Friday, July 30 at lclewis2007@gmail.com. If I draw your entry, I'll send your family a "cool" toy! Here goes!
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CAN YOU DECODE THESE PHRASES?


1. SHOCK CUSSED TOE (PERSON)

2. SAND TACKLE LAWS (FICTIONAL CHARACTER)

3. MY GULCH HOARD UN (PERSON)

4. MOW BEAD HICK (BOOK)

5. TALL MISCHIEF HER SUN (PERSON)

6. CHICK HE TUB AN AN US PRODUCT)

7. THOUGH TIGHTAN HICK (THING)

8. AISLE OH VIEW (PHRASE)

9. TUB RAID HEAP HUNCH (TV SHOW)

10. CARESS TOUGHER CLUMP US (PERSON)

11. DOCKED HEARSE WHOSE (PERSON)

12. THUMB ILL KEY WAKE OWL LICK HE (PLACE)

13. AGE NT HUB BLOWS HEAVEN (FICTIONAL CHAR.)

14. THESE HOUND DOVE MOO SICK (MOVIE)

15. BUCK SPUN HE (FICTIONAL CHARACTER)

BLOGGERS HELPING DAVIS COX

Dear Readers,

I was approached about helping spread the word about a fundraising campaign to benefit a Utah Boy who has severe aplastic anemia. This is one of those times when blogging can exceed entertainment. I hope some of you can attend a few of these events, or make a donation. Thank you in advance for your consideration and support!

Laurie
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Media Advisory
July 16, 2010


Davis County Community Hosts Fundraiser for Local Teen with Aplastic Anemia.

“Distance for Davis Cox” Fundraiser Includes Utah Blaze and Miller Motor Sports Park

Rare Disease Affects Three in One Million U.S. Residents Each Year

WHAT: “Distance for Davis” Fundraiser for 14-year-old aplastic anemia patient, Davis Cox.

Event includes a Utah Blaze Football Clinic, Nitro Circus Movie Premier, motorcycle stunts by DJ Osborn, a silent auction and raffle, a 5K Fun Run, hot air balloon rides, a blood drive, food, games and entertainment.

WHO: Utah Blaze, Nitro Circus, DJ Osborn, local companies, friends, family and classmates rally to raise money and support local teen Davis Cox.

WHEN: Aug. 6 from 7 p.m. -11 p.m.
Aug. 7 from 7 a.m. to 4 p.m.

WHERE: Davis High School
Kaysville, Utah

WHY: In March 2010, Davis, a 14-year-old Kaysville Junior High School Student, contracted a random virus that damaged his bone marrow, which resulted in severe aplastic anemia. Once, a healthy football and baseball player, Davis now experiences life-threatening symptoms ranging from retinal bleeding, two-hour nose and gum bleeds, fevers, severe bacterial infections, and a depleted immune system.

Affecting only three in one million Americans each year, aplastic anemia is a disease of the bone marrow, where the marrow stops making enough red blood cells, white blood cells and platelets for the body. People like Davis, with severe or very severe aplastic anemia, are at risk for life-threatening infections or bleeding. Treatment includes bone marrow or cord blood transplant and immunosuppressive therapy.

To learn more about Davis Cox and the “Distance for Davis” events and fundraiser, log on to http://www.daviscoxfundraiser.com/.

SCORE ONE FOR THE LAWYER

To those of you who visited earlier, and came back to find this post down, my apologies. Some Blogger-glitch erased the post. Here it is again.

For those of you who are reading this for the first time, this is supposedly a true story. Thanks to Kay Curtis for sharing it with me. This guy's my hero!
********************

A New Orleans lawyer sought an FHA loan for a client. He was told the loan would be granted if he could prove satisfactory title to a parcel of property being offered as collateral. The title to the property dated back to 1803, which took the lawyer three months to track down. After sending the information to the FHA, he received the following reply.

(Actual reply from FHA):

"Upon review of your letter adjoining your client's loan application, we note that the request is supported by an Abstract of Title. While we compliment the able manner in which you have prepared and presented the application, we must point out that you have only cleared title to the proposed collateral property back to1803. Before final approval can be accorded, it will be necessary to clear the title back to its origin."

Annoyed, the lawyer responded as follows:(Actual response):

"Your letter regarding title in Case No.189156 has been received. I note that you wish to have title extended further than the 206 years covered by the present application. I was unaware that any educatedperson in this country, particularly those working in the property area, would not know that Louisiana was purchased by the United States from France in 1803, the year of origin identified in our application.

For the edification of uninformed FHA bureaucrats, the title to the land prior to U.S. ownership was obtained from France , which had acquired it by Right of Conquest from Spain. The land came into the possession of Spain by Right of Discovery made in the year 1492 by a sea captain named Christopher Columbus, who had been granted the privilege of seeking a new route to India by the Spanish monarch, Queen Isabella. The good Queen Isabella, being a pious woman and almost as careful about titles as the FHA, took the precaution of securing the blessing of the Pope before she sold her jewels to finance Columbus 's expedition.

Now the Pope, as I'm sure you may know, is the emissary of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, and God, it is commonly accepted, created this world. Therefore, I believe it is safe to presume that God also made that part of the world called Louisiana. God, therefore, would be the owner of origin and His origins date back to before the beginning of time, the world as we know it, and the FHA. I hope you find God's original claim to be satisfactory.

Now, may we have our @@@@ loan?"

The loan was immediately approved.

WHAT MADE THE "GREATEST GENERATION" GREAT?

We were on a trip when the call came in telling us that one of my husband's uncles had died. Yesterday was the funeral, and as I sat in the chapel, then in the mausoleum, and on to the reception following the service, I observed his friends and remaining siblings, members of his generation, the generation some call "The Greatest Generation That Ever Lived," and it was a privilege.

That honor is a tough call. Were they greater than the generation of the Founding Fathers--those who risked their lives, their fortunes and their sacred honor to establish a new land based on the cause of liberty? Or does it take even greater courage to not only defend that cause for the sake of your own citizens, but to fight to broaden its reach to other oppressed people?

You make the call. For me, they're impassioned hearts cut from the same cloth.

We have a brief privilege remaining--the quickly-fleeting chance to observe and learn from some of these giants, and they are and were giants--of patriotism, of industry, of finance, of religion, of agriculture, education and beyond. Were they all moguls in their respective fields? Some were . . . most weren't. Most changed the world by small acts of simple, daily goodness. Here's what I've observed over time.

Most never speak of the great war, though many still suffer from injuries or memories of what they experienced. They tear at the sight of the flag, they still salute or cover their heart as it passes. They vote and serve at polling places. They spend much of their free time serving their communities, building relationships, and helping neighbors.

Most of these octegenarians had worked long and hard and enjoyed the privilege to retire at some point, with a pension and some Social Security, and why? Because they were people who went to work day after day at a modest job that offered a long term reward for that loyalty that generation had honed. They paid into a system for decades with their sweat and small deposits, and in the end, hard work, integrity and honesty paid off for most of them.

They achieved their dreams because their wants were modest. Most of these people lived in comfortable homes that were small by the current generation's standards. They hung their clothes out to dry, mowed their small lawns with push mowers, planted gardens, saved for a rainy day, invested in Vacation Clubs and Christmas Clubs to finance the big occasions of the year. They fully intended to see their homes paid off. They'd do without before allowing their credit to suffer due to non-payment. They met their obligations and rejoiced when a new appliance or luxury came into their lives.

But there were fewer new things to consume their attention. Needs and obligations came first. Wants were something to hope for. . . the stuff for which to save and dream while thumbing through a catalogue. They were willing to make do with less so their children could have something better.

They were the children of the depression. They believed in fixxing, mending, and scrubbing instead of tossing and replacing.

They filled the churches for decades, bringing along their children and grandchildren, showing as much pride when a tiny child first learned to fold his arms for prayer as they did when they hit their first home run.

They were planners and goal-setters who prepared the way for feet that would follow long after their toes were pointed to heaven.

So few of them remain. We're running out of time to glean their knowledge, and to say thanks.

SCORE ONE FOR THE LAWYER!!!

For a history lover, this is nerd heaven as far as humor goes! I'm told this is a true story. If it is, I need to find this attorney because he is now my idol. If it's not, three cheers for the creative genius who came up with this! Thanks to Kay Curtis for sharing it with me!

*******
A New Orleans lawyer sought an FHA loan for a client. He was told the loan would be granted if he could prove satisfactory title to a parcel of property being offered as collateral. The title to the property dated back to 1803, which took the lawyer three months to track down. After sending the information to the FHA, he received the following reply.

(Actual reply from FHA):
"Upon review of your letter adjoining your client's loan application, we note that the request is supported by an Abstract of Title. While we compliment the able manner in which you have prepared and presented the application, we must point out that you have only cleared title to the proposed collateral property back to1803. Before final approval can be accorded, it will be necessary to clear the title back to its origin."

Annoyed, the lawyer responded as follows:
(Actual response):
"Your letter regarding title in Case No.189156 has been received. I note that you wish to have title extended further than the 206 years covered by the present application. I was unaware that any educated person in this country, particularly those working in the property area, would not know that Louisiana was purchased by the United States from France in 1803, the year of origin identified in our application.

For the edification of uninformed FHA bureaucrats, the title to the land prior to U.S. ownership was obtained from France , which had acquired it by Right of Conquest from Spain. The land came into the possession of Spain by Right of Discovery made in the year 1492 by a sea captain named Christopher Columbus, who had been granted the privilege of seeking a new route to India by the Spanish monarch, Queen Isabella. The good Queen Isabella, being a pious woman and almost as careful about titles as the FHA, took the precaution of securing the blessing of the Pope before she sold her jewels to finance Columbus 's expedition.

Now the Pope, as I'm sure you may know, is the emissary of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, and God, it is commonly accepted, created this world. Therefore, I believe it is safe to presume that God also made that part of the world called Louisiana. God, therefore, would be the owner of origin and His origins date back to before the beginning of time, the world as we know it, and the FHA. I hope you find God's original claim to be satisfactory.

Now, may we have our @&#% loan?"

The loan was immediately approved.

“LIGHTS! CAMERAS! ACTION????”

Filming a book trailer is much more difficult than it would seem. For months I had been kicking around the idea of heading to the ocean to film an author “pitch” for “Awakening Avery,” my spring release set against Florida’s Gulf Coast.

We traveled to Maryland’s lovely Ocean City and found a great spot outside our hotel. There was an enormous and splendidly beautiful pot of flowers on the corner of the boardwalk, so I situated myself in front and asked my husband to stand on the nearby step so he could also catch the ocean in the background.

Ready? Set? I froze. The backliner blurb from my book went right out of my head! Swell. . .

Take two. . . We begin again with a panoramic sweep of the ocean. Cue Laurie. I smile and begin blathering something that actually sounded pretty good when one of those annoying airplanes that pulls an ad sign doodles by 500 feet above our heads, drowning me completely out.

Retake number three. Scan ocean, cue Laurie. . . I begin speaking and a hoard of people decide that now is a good time to use the hose to wash off the beach sand before heading poolside.

Take four. . . a small crowd is assembling on the steps now. I get a little nervous and babble incoherently. My camera man and husband is a little annoyed at being in the blazing hot sun.

Moving along with a promise to get it on this take . . . take number five . . . I begin. A tram rolls by. Of course.

Take six, Laurie starts out strong. We feel the excitement building. Then, two “and ums. . .” as I get distracted and lose my train of thought. Dear husband scowls at me. His head is beginning to sunburn.

Take seven. . . we get something coherent and I call it quits. My son, (two of my children and their families are with us), asks, “Why don’t you ask the desk clerk if you can film from the balcony of one of their ocean front rooms?”

I bounce this off my cameraman who now wishes he had a union card so he’d have someone to complain to. The desk clerk is very nice and leads us to a beautiful room. We stand on the balcony and begin again. I miss my beautiful pot. Tom wants to stuff me into the beautiful pot. We get a decent take and call it quits. As we leave the hotel room I glance in the mirror and realize that a stray piece of hair is angled across my forehead like a weird comb-over. Great. . . Do you think I’m going to start this process over again? No. . . . .

So tune in shortly for the release of the “Awakening Avery” trailer on YouTube. It should be quite a spectacle!

WHAT WE LEARN BY LOOKING AT THE ENTIRE CANVAS

My editor and I were struggling with the release date for "Oh Say Can You See?" We both knew I wasn't happy with the book yet, but the publisher and distributor wanted it to hit the shelves in August. I know when a manuscript is "right." I feel contentment. It excites me. I feel peace. I wasn't feeling any of those things yet.

So my editor and I talked about it, and I prayed for help to find the missing pieces I knew were missing from the manuscript. That's how important I felt the story was, and the answer came. But the struggle set me behind my deadline. Last week we all agreed to set the release date back, and I am overjoyed. Here's a glimpse at my literary quest.
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I was putting in sixteen-hours days for a few weeks, with multiple historical accounts spread across my desk, the names and numbers of archivists at the Library of Congress and other libraries stacked on my computer, and so many piles of paper-clipped pages lying about that my desk looked like an archaeological dig. My husband had a hectic travel schedule during those two weeks, so except for a weekly retreat with my mother, and some hours spent helping my expectant daughter chase a toddler around, life was totally dedicated to digging for the facts that would solve one question:

What was the true source of the emotions that caused Francis Scott Key, a clergy-seeking, hymn-composing, attorney-poet, to write the stirring, sometimes angry, fist-shaking words to "The Star Spangled Banner?"

The answer was under my nose all along.

Many of us know about Key's kidnapped friend, Dr. William Beanes, whom Key was trying to free. Some know that Key had family in the targeted city of Baltimore the British were poised to destroy. Perhaps you've heard that Key and his companion, John Skinner, were detained by the British for eleven days, during which time they were tortured by the their captors' daily regurgitation of details for the attack and destruction of the city.

But a careful reading of the words to the song told me there was even more than that, and I knew it. But what?

You know the old saying, "You can't see the forest for the trees?" Elder Bednar shared a similar concept that brought the answer to key's motivation home to me:

In my office is a beautiful painting of a wheat field. The painting is a vast collection of individual brushstrokes—none of which in isolation is very interesting or impressive. In fact, if you stand close to the canvas, all you can see is a mass of seemingly unrelated and unattractive streaks of yellow and gold and brown paint. However, as you gradually move away from the canvas, all of the individual brushstrokes combine together and produce a magnificent landscape of a wheat field.

That was it! I was obsessing over the events from Beanes' kidnapping to the bombardment of Fort McHenry, but the truth behind Key's emotions that night went back further. Once I realized what was really behind them, the song's sometimes elusive wording took on an entirely different meaning!!

I should have known. He was a man, not a character. He was a father, a husband, a man of God, a soldier, a man of law, a patriot, a complex human being, as we all are. Which of us looks at an event as a singular experience? Do we not bring our past experiences to bear upon each scene? Doesn't personal history color the prism through which we view life? Of course it does . . . and it did for Key as well.

So now I think I've managed to understand more than the man's footsteps, but his heart as well. Now I think I can write his story well. I feel peaceful about things. I see the whole canvas.

The Big Debate

Sorry for being the lamest blogger on the block.

We're still trying to decide whether to end Free Men and Dreamers with volume four or carry on to volume five. Book four will end the war and tie up all the loose ends, and volume five was supposed to carry us into the next generation to see how all these events impacted the nation and its people. We're debating, and I'm still finishing book four and trying to sneak in some family time in between. We've also got a new grand baby on the way, so blogging has taken a hit.

I hope your summer is going well. We'll soon be flooding you with information and pre-release stuff. Thanks for being patient.

All the best to you and yours!

laurie lc lewis

THAT WE MAY BE FREE

I received a beautiful letter from a reader of my Free Men and Dreamers books who shared a remarkably tender story with me. Her name is Diane Wilson, and this true story came from her father-in-law. It was so personal and painful, he only shared it one time, but as you'll see from the story, the details remained excruciatingly close to him all his life. Here it is, in her own words. She gave me permission to share it. Thank you, Diane.

My father-in-law was a prisoner of war of the Japanese during World War II. He was on the Philippians when McArthur surrendered the islands after the bombing of Pearl Harbor; he wasn’t released until the war’s end, at which time he and the prisoners he was with were in Japan.

Dad once told the story of how one of the men in his unit had a small American flag folded and kept in his breast pocket. On special occasions (4th of July, Thanksgiving. and even Christmas… those holidays when the men’s hearts turned away from the tortures they endured and focused on family and memories of happier times), the men would gather and this soldier would take out the flag, reverently unfold it, and all would stand as best they could and repeat the Pledge of Allegiance. Then the soldier would carefully refold the little fag and again protectively place it in his breast pocket.

Up until Dad’s death last year, whenever he saw a flag in a parade, at a ball game, or in a ceremony, his shoulders would begin to shake, large tears would roll down his face as great sobs would take over. The flag represented freedom to him… home, family, country. It brought back memories of the men he was imprisoned with and the sacrifices each made. Many of his friends simply gave up; those were very emotional memories for Dad. He was a true patriot who loved his country and it’s symbol, the American flag. Dad was given full military honors for his burial, and the flag he loved so dear draped his casket.

GETTING INSIDE KEY'S MIND

I've spent a very sweet week writing the story surrounding the writing of the Star Spangled Banner, especially since it's so near to the fourth of July when flags are popping up everywhere.

There's so many beautiful, stirring details forgotten or never learned that surround Key's story. Most of us know he was on board a ship in the harbor overlooking Fort McHenry during the bombardment when the inspiration hit him. Fewer people recall that he was on a mission to save his Scottish friend, Dr. William Beanes, who had been dragged from his bed in the middle of the night by the British on charges of treason and murder. But there's so much more to the story.

To fully understand the passion behind Key's story you must recall that three weeks prior to the bombardment, Key and his wife were secreting their children away from Georgetown, a suburb of Washington, to Key's parents' home in Frederick, Maryland. The British were expected to march on the Capital and the Key's were desperate to send them away to safety. Days later, while Polly remained near her husband in the home of friends, Key was horseback and on the battlefield with President Madison at Bladensburg, Maryland, when the American forces clashed with the British army. The fight became a humiliating rout sadly dubbed "The Bladensburg Races," a pitiful reference to the frightened American retreat that left the way open for the sacking of the President's House, the Capitol building, the government offices. As a result, very few mementos of our country's birth and infancy exist prior to 1814.

Key had also witnessed, firsthand, the brutality of the British military when crossed, and on September 13th, Baltimore was swollen with angry Americans poised to fight back. Worse yet, Key had family in the city. His brother-in-law, Judge Joseph Nicholson, was the second in command at Fort McHenry that day. And Nicholson's wife, sister to Key's wife Polly, was still in the city with their children. After all Key had done to protect his own family, his concerns for these loved ones pressed heavily on his mind.

During the negotiations with the British to secure Beanes release, Key and the Prison Exchange agent, John Skinner, were taken aboard the British admiral's flagship and treated as guests. But during the meals, the British officers discussed their plans to burn the city to the ground in front of their American "guests." Having been apprised of the British war plans, Key and Skinner became detainees of the British until after the battle's conclusion, unable to warn their people, and forced to watch the attack from afar, knowing the dire fate intended for Baltimore if the fort were to fall. Key's heart was deeply harrowed.

The twenty-five hour bombardment from September 13th into September 14th was unbearable, but Key had also seen thousands of British troops land fourteen miles south of Baltimore, poised to enter the city and subdue it once the fort fell. Knowing the atrocities committed in other cities that had opposed the British, he shuddered with fear. Days later, in a letter to a friend, John Randolph, Key expressed the anger and fear he felt while maintaining his hope that the prayers of the pious would be heard by God who would deliver the city.

The flag therefore, became more than a mere real estate marker, announcing the power that controlled the fort. It became the sign of life, that as long as she waved the fort had held and the British army and its destructive might had been held at bay.

He jotted his notes on the back of a letter during the final two days of his detainment, setting the entire poem, titled, "The Defense of Baltimore" on a sheet when he was back in the city in his room at the Indian Queen Hotel.

He took the poem to Judge Nicholson as a gift, and the judge was so moved he rushed it to a printers for duplication. Within hours, broadsheets of Key's poem could be found everywhere across the city. People were so starved for something positive and hopeful to cling to in these hours after the loss of their capital that soldiers in the fort wrote home about the poem, and copies began moving to other cities. It was first published in the Baltimore Patriot but soon it appeared in papers in Philadelphia and Boston and New York.

It was set to the tune of a popular melody of the day, "To Anacreon in Heaven," and performed as the finale in performances along the embattled coast where it received standing ovations.

After Washington, few symbols remained to proclaim that our nation and our government still existed. Britain had their king, their crown, their castles, their Parliament, but Britain had left us no home for our president, nor a house for our Congress. All America's citizenry had to hold on to were the ideals of their people, and a flag--a red, white and blue banner that stood defiantly between the enemy and them.

That's what Key saw that day. And this is what he knew--that buildings may burn, presidents may change, armies may march, and enemies may come, but as long as our people hold fast to the ideals upon which this nation was founded, and have access to a few scraps of fabric, the symbol of America cannot be extinguished.

Long may she wave. Proud may she wave!

(L.C. Lewis's upcoming release, book four of her Free Men and Dreamers series, "Oh Say, Can You See?" tells the story of the Battle of Baltimore and the Star Spangled Banner. Preview the other books of her series at http://www.laurielclewis.com/)
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Do you have a story of when looking up at the red, white and blue moved you? Share your memory and I'll enter you in a contest to win a copy of "Awakening Avery," or "Dawn's Early Light" book one of my Free Men and Dreamers series. The contest ends July 3. Here are our current entries from Facebook posts:

Evelyn Fetty Rector
Last Saturday was Twilight Tattoo in Baker Park with a program about the American military through the years. Men dressed in uniforms from all eras of our history were there. There was a fife and drum corp and much singing of patriotic songs. But the thing that really touched a part of me was the flag flying proudly through it all.

Joshua Heckathorn
I visited my father's gravesite in the historic Mt. Olivet cemetery on a gray wintry day several years ago. While standing by his headstone, a ray of sunshine broke through the clouds, just for a moment, illuminating the Francis Scott Key monument and the red, white and blue flying high up on the hillside. Key's lyrics echoed in my mind, and I deeply felt not only my father's love for me, but also for his country.

Lisa Banks Bennett
The day of my Grandfather's funeral. He was in WWII, a Navy Photographer, and on both planes that dropped the Atomic bombs. He was then invited to go to Hiroshima and Nagasaki with the scientific bomb survey teams. As I watched the Legion give him a gun salute, listened as taps were played, and saw the flag being folded and presented to my ... See MoreGrandmother, my heart overflowed with thankfulness, and pride to be living in this beautiful country, where I am free to worship as I choose, and I was moved with thanks for my Grandfather, who willingly left home, a wife, and two young daughters, to help protect those freedoms.

Morgan Lund
When the war started I remember we had a flag out in the front of the yard and I was so little I remember the star spangled banner just going throw my mind with the flag flying gracefully back and forth.

Tami Cox Rasel
Sept 12, 2001. I remember driving along highways and workman had posted the American Flag on every construction site. Though I'm always proud to be an American, I never felt more proud to be one when I saw how much our country united on the day after 9-11. Every yard, every house, every business was flying their AMERICAN flag!

Judi Bland Stull
I've always loved our flag and our country, but never more so than when we lived in England. While I LOVED living in England it was also the time when I was the most patriotic and proud of our country. Every fourth of July we would have a huge celebration at the base, they would raise the flag and a band would play the national anthem. Everyone... See More - and I mean EVERYONE - put their hand over their hearts and sang along. I wasn't the only one with tears in my eyes. Being away from "home" - even in a place as wonderful as England - gives you an appreciation for the historical part of our country and living with servicemen and women all around you makes you so very thankful for the sacrifices that have been made to keep us free. Since coming home I'm probably a little more jaded, but hearing the Star Spangled Banner or America the Beautiful still makes me tear up. I'm very proud to be an American.

Many thanks to everyone who already posted. Do you also have a similar moment?

THE WINNER IS TAMI COX RASEL! Congratulations, Tami!