Along the river and lakefront in Sabula, the flags are flying once again.
Each one represents a veteran from our community—someone who answered the call to serve our country. For many families, it’s more than a flag. It’s a reminder of someone they loved.
Every time I walk along the river, I can’t help but slow down and read the names. Before I know it, I’m not looking at flags anymore—I’m remembering people.
I remember the ones who fished the river, told stories in the back room of the grocery store, served on the fire department, coached Little League, owned businesses, raised families, looked out for the neighborhood kids, and showed up whenever someone needed a hand.
For the first time, one of those flags honors my dad. My grandpa’s flag has been there for years, and now my dad’s name is there too. It’s one of the things I love most about Sabula. We remember our own, and our people aren’t forgotten.
As America celebrates 250 years, I’m reminded that our country’s story isn’t found only in big cities or famous places. It’s also found in little towns like Sabula, where ordinary people make an extraordinary difference every single day.
A heartfelt thank you to the volunteers who put up every one of these flags and crosses. Your time and dedication help make this one of the most meaningful Fourth of July traditions in our community.
Happy Fourth of July. 
Anyway—Off We Go. 
The flags may come down in a few days, but in Sabula, we remember the names—and the stories behind them. God bless our Island City, and God bless the good ol’ USA.
