Independence Day is a day of celebrating the birth of our country. The fifty-six men who signed the Declaration of Independence 232 years ago set into motion the great American experiment in representative government, freedom, and liberty. With of all of her flaws, the United States of America represents one of history's great success stories. It is a day of parades, barbecues, and fireworks. But it is also a day of great historical importance.
Two of the signers of the Declaration in 1776 were John Adams and Thomas Jefferson. Adams and Jefferson were both elected to the presidency later on in their careers, but in the process, they became bitter political enemies. They did become reconciled in their twilight years, however. In what has to be one of the great ironies of early American history, both men died on the same day. That day was July 4, 1826—exactly fifty years to the day that Adams and Jefferson had signed the Declaration of Independence. For you music aficionados, July 4, 1826, was the day that Stephen Foster was born. Later on in the nineteenth century, during the American Civil War, the decisive Battle of Gettysburg ended the day before July 4, 1863. For the South, Pickett's Charge proved to be the "high water mark of the Confederacy." For the North, Gettysburg was the beginning of the end.
From the later nineteenth century and on into the twenty-first century, the Fourth of July has become the great mid-summer holiday in the United States. Perhaps we do not appreciate as much as we ought what this holiday represents. For me, it is an occasion to listen to stirring patriotic music, to get together with family and friends, and to watch fireworks displays to cap off the day. Yet, we as a nation have much to be grateful for. We remember those who have defended our country and way of life on battlefields in distant locations. Many soldiers returned to our shores, but some of those brave men and women died in defense of our country.
I do have some personal remembrances of some more recent Fourth of July holidays. Who can forget the Bicentennial Celebration in 1976? July 4 fell on a Sunday that year, and I remember seeing at our church a very moving video presentation that recounted the personal sacrifices made by several of the signers. Some lost position, property, and even their freedom. Of course, there were a number of significant events throughout that weekend all across the country. Twenty-four years ago (1984) our family celebrated our arrival in Owatonna a couple of days before the Fourth of July.
Allow me one more memory. Nineteen years ago (1989), Cynthia and I traveled to Great Britain with the Owatonna High School Orchestra to present several concerts across England. We were slated to return to the United States on . . . July 4. We got up at 6 AM and were taken to Heathrow Airport by about 9 AM. On the elevator, one English gentlemen asked us if we planned to shoot off fireworks on the flight across the Atlantic . . . we said, no way! Our plane arrived in St. Louis during the early afternoon. Unfortunately, we had to wait until later in the evening to fly home to Minneapolis. But there was a bit of a reward as we flew up the Mississippi River that evening. Out of the airplane window, we witnessed a number of fireworks displays in little towns all the way to Minneapolis. To me, that really epitomized what the Fourth of July was all about. People all over the Upper Midwest were celebrating America in many different places at the same time.
We ought to thank God for our country, and for the freedoms—political and religious—that we have in such great abundance. Happy Fourth of July to all of you.
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