Our Confederate Flag

The below synopsis is brought to you by……… Kristi Long Wheatley.

 

Neil Clement states…..

If only every southerner possessed her passion, what could we accomplish? Below, she articulates a brand of apologetics that inspire rather than draw ire. She’s concise yet precise, and she brings honor to tradition with her descriptive depictions:

Kristi Long Wheatley writes……

“Why would we want to save a flag that represents nothing but hatred and racism? Well because you see that’s not what my flag represents to me. And it is my flag.
What then does this flag represent?

It represents joy and innocence and beauty. It represents grace and propriety and tradition. It represents family and security and community.

What it brings to mind with me is intangible. It embodies the beauty of an innocent carefree childhood. Of a community whose every member played a necessary role and a way of life like no other.
It’s the symbol of running barefoot across a freshly plowed field and dragging my bare feet through the cool Georgia clay.
It’s running to the pecan groves with line after line of perfectly straight giants so perfectly aligned like soldiers at attention.
It’s lazy Sunday afternoons at my Great Grandmothers house after eating and laughing and playing with all my cousins and listening to the grown ups go on about the happenings of the previous week and their laughter that rolled across acres of lush green produce. Green beans, crowder peas, squash, cucumbers, watermelons, and then the apple trees on the far side.

It’s evenings lying in bed with the windows open so the cool night air would ease me into a sound sleep. The same cool air always scented by the sweet smell of magnolias and gardenias.
It’s rising to the aroma of bacon sizzling on my Nannys stove and the softest homemade biscuits you ever tasted like air…
It’s Easter Sunday when we all wore our new brightly colored Easter dresses and hurried home after morning services to seek the eggs left by the Easter bunny.
It’s lazy fall and winter afternoons all laying on an old quilt in front of a fire to warm our bones from the chill outside.

It’s comfort and it’s love and it’s my people.
My people who hated none and from whom the word racism I never heard.
Nor was it ever displayed.

My Pop was the picture of integrity all who knew him respected him trusted him and loved him. His word was all that was needed as he strolled through Mr Travis hardware store and picked up whatever little items he needed.

And it’s my Nanny who was the first beautician in our town who would visit shut-ins and offer beautician services right there in their home without accepting a dime in payment. Or her notorious knock and run where she would assemble baskets or bags of fresh produce from our massive gardens and drop them on the front stoop of those struggling and she would ring the bell and run. So as not to leave them feeling indebted. Or the fact that the towns coroner would call her at all times and she would drop whatever she was doing and rush right over to curl tease and prepare her friends hair one last time to be seen By their families.

Missionaries never worried for a bed to rest in nor did any even most distant family members because their door was always open.

Our family reunions were the highlight of the whole year.

There would be so much delicious food spread across every surface And we all stayed that whole day. We would pray together ask the lord to bless our meal and the children would rapidly proceed through the line and then make a hasty retreat to the outdoors while the grown ups would take their time fellow-shipping and recounting stories and laughter would echo for miles.

This morning I sat and wept for all that is already lost for all that had been taken from us already and for all that I feel slipping away little by little with every passing day.
Will there be even a pale comparison of my Dixie left or will we allow its very last shred to be swept away with the wind of change…

I weep for my lost beautiful Dixie and everything beautiful that she took with her..

God bless my Dixie home….”

2 Responses to “Our Confederate Flag”

  1. David Caskey says:

    What do the flag and the memorials represent to others? They represent a unified South, they represent a way of life (freedom) that is terrifying to the average Yankee, they represent a voting block of conservatives unified around their geographic section that must be obliterated at any cost to assure the tyrannical government so favored by the Yankee. Elimination of the heritage, history and unification of the South is the objective of the most recent Yankee invasion. History has been significantly perverted so that now our view is called a “myth”, despite the fact that it is the most logical and correct interpretation of one of the first Yankee invasions. I call the new historically correct version of the Yankee “The Myth of the Moral Union”. It is the version that killed the American Indian, destroyed the South, killed people on the fields of Europe for no reason, killed the people of the Philippines, Japan, China, middle East, and all the other places that the Yankee feels are not up to their standard. We must defend our history and maintain our unification.

  2. David says:

    All that has been said is true and very saddening.

Leave a Reply to David