Four months after the terrorist attack on the Pentagon, Chief Reporter Mike Laycock reports on how Washington DC is recovering
They are everywhere you go. Little flags, big flags, hanging from buildings and bridges, attached to car aerials and trees.
The Stars and Stripes are a potent symbol of American patriotism.
Flying the flag has been the ubiquitous response of Washington DC citizens to September 11, when a plane was flown directly into the Pentagon.
While the Pentagon attack has always been understandably overshadowed by the Twin Towers tragedy in New York, it must be remembered that the American capital also took a huge blow on that fateful day.
While spending a couple of days in DC last week (receiving an Unsung Heroes award from this newspaper's parent company Gannett) I took the opportunity to see how the building's reconstruction was progressing, and also how Washingtonians were coping with the trauma of September 11.
Of course, for most people, life goes on. But I spoke to several who either witnessed the plane crash into the Pentagon, or went rushing to their windows to see what was happening after the shock wave of the explosion and fire shook the panes.
Last September, Gannett occupied offices just across the road from the Pentagon and staff told me how this had given them a clear view of the incident.
One said she had no idea that a plane had crashed into it. "You couldn't see anything. There was just smoke everywhere."
Others said they feared the Gannett building itself would be the next to be targeted.
Staff told how a local radio station had reported that the Gannett building was on fire, leaving relatives fearing that their loved ones were dead.
I headed across town to see the Pentagon for myself. At first, it looked complete - the only sign of something amiss being two huge cranes towering over the massive complex, with Stars and Stripes flags attached to each cab.
Only as I walked round two of the five sides did the utter destruction of September 11 become clear. One side of the Pentagon simply no longer exists.
It has been completely razed to the ground to prepare for reconstruction, which has only now just begun.
I approached a security guard checking vehicles entering and leaving the compound to ask if I might take a photo, reaching in my pocket to get out my camera. "No sir," he said. "And please don't put your hand in your pocket - it makes me nervous!" They told me it was hoped the reconstruction could be completed in time for the first anniversary of the attack.
I wandered further round the complex, and spotted flashes of red, white and blue on a raised grassy road embankment some 200 yards away, overlooking the flattened site.
Yes, the Stars and Stripes again. Little flags on sticks, stuck into the ground around a tree where an informal memorial had been created by visitors.
There were also flowers and poignant messages and poems, some apparently left by friends and relatives of those who died in the attack.
One poem, from someone who clearly wished they could have done something, anything, to avert the disaster, began: "If I could have, I would have..." It was a moving moment - when the full horror of a fateful day, when mothers and fathers never came home from work to their children - came home to me.
Updated: 12:01 Thursday, January 17, 2002
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