Mike Rowe Instagram – It’s a beautiful evening, warm and windy. Lee Greenwood’s voice fills the air. The song is “Proud to Be an American,” and everyone knows the words. Suddenly, our attention is directed to a helicopter 5,000 feet overhead. A parachutistleaps from the chopper and begins to plummet in our general direction. A trail of smoke follows him down. The wind is gusting at 25 or 30 knots, and if his intention is to land near the pavilion where we’ve gathered, he’ll need to be very proficient or very lucky. As he falls, a couple of tugboats employ a number of water cannons, shooting ribbons of H2O high into the air. Little rainbows form in the mist. Somehow, a big American flag appears from the leg of the parachutist, trailing behind him has he falls toward the earth. The flag snaps in the breeze. Lee Greenwood finishes his famous number, and a twelve-year-old girl with a voice like a grown-up picks up a microphone and begins singing The National Anthem. No one takes a knee. Everyone sings along. The parachutist – a guy named Brent – comes in hot, but sticks the landing perfectly. I run over to help him manage the flag. Together, we walk it over to the crowd, now applauding with a level of enthusiasm best described as “unbridled.” The event has officially begun…