Due to geographical happenstance, the highest point we can see on the mountain behind our house is a large rock and atop that rock sits a flag pole, a professionally installed pole, and on that pole an American flag flies.
This point is not the highest point on the mountain; it's about 1/2 way up. For the past couple of years a group of hikers have trudged their way up the hill on September 11th as a memorial to those who died in New York, Washington, D.C., and Pennsylvania. It's my understanding that the elevation from the valley floor to Flag Rock is the exact hight of the World Trade Center Towers that fell on that terrible day. Those who make the hike hold a service, say words, and remember.
Growing up on our hill, Flag Rock always stood over our heads, a natural rock formation we kids loved to look up at. In those days (I'm sounding older and older as each day passes...) Flag Rock lacked a flag about half the time. When a flag did fly on Flag Rock, it was usually a white bed sheet that one of the neighborhood children stole from their home and stuck on a big stick. Heavy winds would inevitably blow the flag off the mountain and sooner or later, another mother would find another bed sheet missing and the flag would again fly on Flag Rock.
A few years ago (and many in my community know better when this took place...) someone erected a permanent flagpole on Flag Rock, a pole that could withstand the sometimes hurricane-force winds that scream down the mountain's face. Ever since the pole was put up, an American flag has proudly flown above our little town.
The picture below shows our vantage point of Flag Rock from before our house (it's the little bump just right of the power pole). If you're even in my neighborhood, just look up and you'll see what we can see everyday.