I can still vividly remember the most incredible 4th of July of my life.

It was 1976, the 200th anniversary of our nation’s founding. My husband and I were living in Arlington, Virginia with another newlywed couple. We had volunteered for a year with a Christian organization to reach out and remind
people that the United States was based on moral principles and rights for all its citizens.

Young people in general were reeling from the current war, political rebellion, and a sense of “down with the
establishment.”

The group we were affiliated with was kind of a rag-tag army of young, idealistic, passionate people.  We were ready to change the world. We knocked on doors in our neighborhood, we talked to people at street corners, we spoke to anyone who gave us a minute of their time.

Amazingly, some people listened, and we met incredible people in the D.C. area. I worked at a Sears catalog pick up desk for awhile. Catalog ordering was a big deal back then. And even the well-known names in the government used their services. When they came in I’d invite them over for our evening get togethers. Most declined but were gracious.

We had neighbors who worked in the offices of the powerful ones, and met people from foreign countries staffing
their consulates. It was exciting times.

I truly believed that we lived in the best country in the world, and was proud to be an American.

For the Bicentennial Celebration, the country of France donated a barge full of fireworks. Apparently, there was some deal made with France at the country’s inception that if we made it 200 years, they’d provide the fireworks.  They were true to their word.

It was estimated that 2 million people poured into D.C. that day. That’s a lot of people for a little bit of land. We had to walk in from Arlington over the George Washington Bridge. It was masses of people, shoulder-to-shoulder finding spots of grass to put their blankets down

It was a giant birthday party.  Strangers were hugging each other. Everyone was saying “Happy Birthday” to each other. We were packed in like sardines sitting on the grass and listening to music. And we felt safe.

Finally it got dark enough, and the fireworks started being shot from the barge in the river. I’d been to fireworks displays in my home town … but this was A FIREWORKS DISPLAY! Good job, France!

There was patriotic music being played, and everyone sang “God Bless America.”

I guess I treasure this memory so much because I just can’t imagine it happening in our country today. Our sense of security and safety has been violated. We have had to be more cautious, more vigilant, less open, less trusting.

I hope that we have not become jaded because there are good, honest people all around us. It can still be safe to reach out to others, to share someone’s burden, to become a friend, to make our communities better.

Yet, there is the difficult balance of teaching children kindness and generosity, mixed with caution and safety. We are responsible to protect them, to direct them, and to guide them.

And, hopefully their futures will hold remarkable moments of seeing people at their best, rejoicing in the good
fortune in their lives, and a sense of purpose for themselves. We can only hope.

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Category: Grandparents

Tags: America