Columnist Susan Snyder: A picture of true patriotism

Friday, Jan. 4, 2002 | 4:52 a.m.

It wasn't the kind of patriotism that washes over you when someone sings the "The Star-Spangled Banner" really well and really loud.

It wasn't the kind being hawked in every imaginable form and place, from the American flag on Bellagio's marquee to plastic American flags sold in a Utah feed store to jeweled flag pins displayed in a ritzy California ski town boutique.

It revealed itself slowly in a mosaic of snapshot images compiled one cloudy December afternoon.

A small church on the Truckee River with peaked ceilings, windows made of colored glass and a massive pipe organ.

Blushing young women in midnight blue gowns. Handsome young men in black tuxedos.

A bride in white taffeta and veils.

A groom in the dress uniform of a U.S. Army second lieutenant.

They joined hands at the altar in promises made for better or worse, forever and always, in love and in faith.

They sealed it with a kiss and walked arm-in-arm under an archway of sabers held by other young men and women in military uniforms.

They celebrated afterward with music, dancing and champagne.

We watched their lives unfold in a video scrapbook. All patriots start out in diapers, go through that awkward age and, if they are lucky, find someone to love.

In this almost-a-war -- where those who fight fires here and those who dodge land mines over there are rolled into one definition of "hero" -- it has become hard to visualize what type of uniform a hero wears, let alone see his or her face.

On this day heroes wore wedding clothes, reminding us that the bravest thing people can do is have faith in the future and each other.

For this couple it's a future they will face in separation at a time when newlyweds long to be together.

The groom has returned to infantry officers' training at Fort Benning, Ga. It precedes the unspeakably difficult training he will endure in an attempt to become a U.S. Army Ranger, one of the military's fighting elite.

The bride will remain in Reno, finishing her college studies and waiting for the day when she and her husband are together in more than spirit.

They trust their vows, each other and the freedom to build a future together.

What more could we ask of a hero or of patriotism?

This is the kind of patriotism that's blurred by racks of flag sweatshirts and shelves of flag coffee mugs.

It's the kind overshadowed by stories of bodies being yanked from rubble and cries for retribution and revenge.

It's the kind that quietly survives as long as we have soldiers and people strong enough to marry them.

It doesn't explode in bombs dropped on our political foes in Afghanistan or in fireworks showered over our heads at home.

It's a steady flame fed by the optimism of those who fight the battles for us because they have faith in our country and our future.

We can't hang it in the window or tape it to the car antenna, but rest assured it's there.

We just have to be willing to see it, even in the most unlikely places.