An Open Letter & Open Report / My Mama Took My Flag

From: HK Edgerton []
Date: Sun, Jan 8, 2017
Subject: An Open Letter & Open Report / My Mama Took My Flag
To: siegels1 []

Dear Ms. Lunelle,

On Sunday morning, January 8, 2017, as I stood at the window looking out at the snow still remaining on the ground, and the high temperature forecasted at twenty five
degrees, I thought to myself, not an excuse not to post the Christian Cross of St. Andrew, HK.

And later, as I stood don in the uniform of the Southern soldier on the overpass of Interstate 40 accepting the waves and accolades from those who passed me by, a car
would pull over to the side of the road, and I watched as two ladies and a small baby boy made their way towards me.

“Good morning, ladies” I would say, giving them each a hug. And then I would turn my attention to the young man. “Where you going with my women, boy”, would be my question
to him. And, his retort would be as he pointed, “That’s my mama, and this is my Nana. And, I’m taking your women to church.” And he went on to tell me that his mama had
taken his flag that looked like mine that his papa had given him, because she said it hurt African Americans feelings.

“And, my name is Sam, and I want to know why you flying it, if it hurts your feelings?” I had no sooner put my arms around Sam contemplating an answer to his question
when a car pulled up alongside us, and three pretty young black baby girls who looked to be about Sam’s age shouted from the back window of the car, “Good morning Mr. HK,
we love you!” And the lady sitting on the passenger side in the front seat said, “And we do too,” as the father, I presumed, smiled and waved as they pulled away.

Sam’s mother looked at him, and said, “I’ll give it back, Sam.” Sam’s face lit up and he wrapped his arms around my waist, giving me a Phi Beta Kappa hug. I didn’t have
to say another word. However, I would shout as they walked away, “Say a prayer for me, Sam!” “I will,” would come his reply!

And as I stood there still waving at those passing me by, I would sing to myself my two most favorite songs: “Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the
world. Red, Yellow, Black and White, they are precious in his sight. Jesus loves the little children of the world!”

And, then came Dixie; “In Dixieland where I was born, early on one frosty morn. In Dixieland, I’ll take my stand to live and die in Dixie. Look away, look away Dixieland!”

And no sooner than I began to stroll back and forth across the bridge to warm up then would one of my sister’s friends pull alongside me. “Boy, I know that you love
our flag, but its freezing cold out here. You better get yourself home and come back on a warmer day. Don’t make me call your sister!”

Thirty minutes later, she would return, park and get out of her car on the bridge, holding up traffic, and hand me a big cup of hot chocolate. “Boy, I done told you,”
she said fussing just like my sister would, knowing full well as she waved at the people shouting out my name from the cars she had blocked from moving; it would be a
while yet before I would leave, especially after the warm up from the chocolate. “I’m leaving soon,” I would shout to her as she pulled away with a big smile on her face.

Boy, I thought to myself, what a great day in Dixie. God bless you!

Your brother,


A Very Proud Son of the South