Today is Flag Day in the United States. As I hung my flag this morning, I thought of my dad. Dad was a true patriot. He was born in 1922. His father was a veteran of WWI. My dad told me once that his generation grew up knowing they would have to finish their fathers' war. When he was a child, he loved dressing up in uniforms - little sailor suits or army uniforms. When he was 8, he enjoyed putting on his dad's old uniform and pretending he was General Billy Mitchell. Dad piloted a flying fortress during WWII, flying 35 missions over enemy-held territory when the average survivability rate was 18 missions. I am grateful to God that Dad beat those odds. He had completed 25 of those missions when I was born. Dad stayed very active in the Air Force Reserve and eventually achieved his childhood dream when he got his first star and became a general. He earned his second star before he died. He flew his flag every day of his life. So fly your colors today, Americans. And happy Flag Day, Dad. I'll be thinking of you.