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Rhiannon Mim
Photography Editor

It’s Tuesday morning around 7:30 when my phone goes off. My ecstatic mother is on the other end of the line.”Its up! You're brother has a banner now!”

Ever since the war in Iraq began, military banner programs have been popping up across the Southland.
La Verne, San Dimas, Glendora and my hometown of Covina are just some of the cities that have streets lined with names.

The large white banners proclaim the soldiers’ names and the service branch in which they are enlisted. At the bottom are the bold words: “Covina thanks you.”

More than four months ago when my mom called city hall to ask about having a banner for my brother they said that it would cost $150. So where does this money come from? They told my mom that the family had to pay for the banner out of their own pockets.

Still, “Covina thanks you.” How? You protect the country we live in and they ask $150 for a banner that probably cost no more than $50.

Our family just couldn't understand why, if we are supposed to be honoring those who serve, the city of Covina has no funds to pay for these banners? Men and women are putting their lives on the line while their families are still having to pay at home.

In February, my mom found out that a woman we knew from church had her husband and son both serving in the Marine Corps, both currently on their second tours of duty in Iraq.

She told my mom that when they called for banners that the city paid for both from a set of funds. She also seemed very distressed when my mom mentioned that the city told us to pay.

During a Girl Scout Covina Neighborhood meeting last month, the woman and her 7-year-old daughter announced that they were selling chocolate covered pretzels that they had made themselves, tied with a yellow ribbon, for $3 a bag

By the end of the meeting, every bag had been sold. The woman approached my mom and told her they had just raised enough money with the pretzels to purchase a military banner for my brother.

My mother instantly burst into tears. Later that night when she told my dad and me, we all ended up crying.

When we called him on the phone, even my brother said how touched he was by their gesture.

Since their pretzels were such a success, the woman and her daughter made more and sold them at a city council meeting.

They donated the money to buy banners for two more soldiers.

If you ever find yourself in Covina on the corner of Rowland Street and Citrus Avenue, right on Rowland next to the Acura dealer is a banner with my brother’s name: Douglas Mim, Navy.

My heart goes out to that woman and her daughter. I'm sure their lives have been flipped upside down by the absence of their two family members.

But they, like my family, share in the pride of having a soldier.

I just wish I could repay them for their generosity and compassion. I pass my brother’s banner every day on the way to work, and it reminds me that my brother is out there making a difference. For that amazing feeling, I thank them as well as all the names that grace the streets of Southern California.

Rhiannon Mim, a junior journalism major, is photography editor of the Campus Times. She can be reached by e-mail at rmim@ulv.edu.