1st Lt. Keith Fairben
Paramedic, New York Presbyterian Hospital
Nassau County Fireman's Memorial:
Photo's Courtesy Scott Strong
application for 2006 Keith Fairben
Scholarship
Newsday article September 20th, 2001
Mr. and Mrs. Kenneth Fairben
opening the
market with New York City Mayor Rudolph
Unity in the Spirit of America
September 11 - Remember: A Digital Monument
Floral Park Dispatch article September 13th, 2002
CNN .com September 11 Memorial
Jems.com (Acrobat Reader Needed to Display)
I AM THE FLAG OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA I am the flag of the United States of America. My name is Old Glory. I fly atop the world's tallest buildings. I stand watch in America's halls of justice. I fly majestically over institutions of learning. I stand guard with power in the world. Lookup at me and see me. I stand for peace, honor, truth and justice. I stand for freedom. I am confident. I am arrogant. I am proud.
When I am flown with my fellow banners, my head is a little higher, my colors a little truer. I bow to no one! I am recognized all over the world. I am worshipped --- I am saluted. I am loved --- I am revered. I am respected --- and I am feared. I have fought in every battle of every war for more then 200 years.
I was flown at Valley Forge, Gettysburg, Shiloh and Appomattox. I was there at San Juan Hill, the trenches of France, in the Argonne Forest, Anzio, Rome and the beaches of Normandy. Guam, Okinawa, Korea, KheSan, Saigon, Vietnam know me...I was there. I led my troops, I was dirty, battle worn and tired, but my soldiers cheered me And I was proud.
I have been burned, torn and trampled on the streets of countries I have helped set free. It does not hurt, for I am invincible. I have been soiled upon, burned, torn and trampled on the streets of my country. And when it's by those whom I've served in battle --- it hurts. But I shall overcome --- for I am strong. I have slipped the bonds of Earth and stood watch over the uncharted frontiers of space from my vantage point on the moon. I have borne silent witness to all of America's finest hours. But my finest hours are yet to come. When I am torn into strips and used as bandages for my wounded comrades on the battlefield, When I am flown at half-mast to honor my soldiers, Or when I lie in the trembling arms of a grieving parent at the grave of their fallen son or daughter, I am proud.
MY NAME IS OLD GLORY...
LONG MAY I WAVE. DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN, LONG MAY I WAVE.
