On 14 June 1960 I was in downtown Quincy Washington.
Downtown was a not very obvious little jog of a street left off the highway.
"What is that noise - that incessant flapping"?
It was a recurring array of clusters of American flags that were mounted on - I don't remember mounted on what; I just remember the flags, and the incessant flapping.
That's what happens when flags mesh with the ever-present CORIBA Plateau Wind.
"Oh yeah; June 14 is flag day; sure are a lot of 'em; and noisy".
I was 17 years old.
If I had known the flag day was trump's birthday, I might not have made 18.
It took me 66 years to realize that.
Time is so slippery.
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