IT WAS THE SORT OF thing you had to actually see; up close, personal—as up close and personal as the glass would allow, anyway—to fully appreciate; to fully understand that this was it, the flag that inspired the national anthem, the actual Fort McHenry garrison flag, a thing more than 40 feet high and maybe 30 feet long, laying at an angle in a climate-controlled black room, or a room that had been climate-controlled, until the Flashback, until the lights had gone out from Anchorage to Miami.
“Oh, say can you see,” I sang, moving my flashlight over the material, which was tattered and torn, “By the dawn’s early light ...”
I grinned and trailed off, letting the silence take control, letting the room buzz, and we just stood there.
“What so proudly we hailed,” sang Fiona at length, her vo
