Grandpa Walker would be proud - the flags are out and the fireworks are going off tonight.  He used to say that the whole country celebrated his birthday.  My grandfather was born on the 4th and raised in the area of Pennsylvania that's once again under water.

A jowly, slightly bald man, James B. Walker stood some six feet tall and put away about six cigars a day despite being a charter member of the West Pittston Fire Department.  He taught me how to play pinochle and pool (almost as soon as I could see over top of the table) as a young boy at the Hose House, as he called it.  But no matter what, his front porch flag was out and flying in all its glory every 4th of July, the staunch Republican that he was. 

Hat's off to you, Grandpa.  I'll smoke a cigar in your memory.