A Family of Citizens 7/7/2024

By: Jennifer Richardson Holt

When I started pondering what to write about, the holiday of this past week was heavily on my mind. My nation’s birthday was influencing my train of thought.  I do like to think of myself as patriotic so there was definitely a bit of pride.  That was probably pretty clear when I finally got to add to my collection a shirt that depicts George Washington with American flag sunglasses and the ever so endearing slogan saying, “It’s only treason if you lose”, which, if you think about it, is a true statement. I admit I have wanted that shirt for ages.  And yes, while I am still a proud anglophile and love almost everything British, I have to be proud of my ancestors who defeated the greatest military the world had to offer almost 250 years ago to change us from unrepresented colonists to a nation.  And while I reveled briefly in the historical celebration of my country, my thoughts began to linger on what exactly it was to celebrate America’s independence here, where I am.  I thought that might be something of interest to share as I dare say things could vary a great deal from place to place. So here is the story of my 4^th of July and the surrounding festivities.

If I’m honest, I did more celebrating in the traditional sense of the word, on the day before the actual holiday.  That night my husband, daughter and I packed up my Jeep, which in a touch of trivial technicality is a very American vehicle as the brand was created to be general purpose (the name comes from the quick pronunciation of GP) for the military during WWII. I apologize now for the fact that I am a tad full of useless trivia. Other than for the purposes of being annoying and highly successful at trivia nights at restaurants I can’t say this skill is particularly useful. Anyway, my family traveled to a local firework show that we have come to frequent. Some friends of ours had invited us to join them and were kind enough to save us a parking spot.  In an endearing turn of events, by identifying vehicles or family members we passed by countless other people that we knew once we arrived at the location of the event.  As a matter of fact we saw and waved at one family and had a phone call in less than fifteen seconds inviting us to their gathering if we didn’t have somewhere in particular to go or people in particular to meet.

We found our infinitely valuable parking place and maneuvered in. We were parked at a community college that is right near a high school and this is where this town’s fireworks are always done. There were people on truck tailgates, on blankets in the grass and, as we were, in folding chairs; the kind that go into a little sleeve that you sling over your shoulder to carry into ball games.  There were hundreds of people all around with all manner of seating. Crafty little ice cream trucks had realized the massive opportunity and were circling the area playing their mildly creepy music and in a very ambulance-chasing-lawyer kind of way, were making a killing.

 It was that time of day that the sun had set so it wasn’t agonizingly bright but the heat and humidity were still enjoying the sunset scenery very much.  The typical late afternoon summer thunderheads were towering above us in shades of peach and gold.  Last year they produced a very wet respite from the heat that required everyone to hide in their vehicles.  But today those clouds just added to the scenery.  We were sat behind magnolia trees that framed the lawns with their dark waxy leaves occasionally dotted with massive creamy white blossoms.  I smiled as the children with my group (including my own) and some other children from nearby all joined together in a rousing game of football.  I smiled even more as I watched my daughter make a reception and start to run to the imaginary endzone while several boys who didn’t know her from Adam blocked for her and made sure she wasn’t tackled (though she could have been ten times over) so she could make a touchdown.   We all saw how these kids were playing. All the adults sideways glanced at each other with warm grins and proceeded to cheer for the score.

And yes, as I type, I just realized, that I was looking at what this country is all about. Before me as far as the eye could see, there were families.  Some were cooking on little portable grills. Some were playing games.  There was every shade of melanin you can imagine but the thing is, all those different shades were intertwining.  Where one family began and another ended became very blurred.  Members would migrate from one canopy to another tent and kids would wander from one blanket to another circle of chairs.  Hot dogs were swapping hands and all ages of children ran around with red white and blue candy faces or ice cream sandwich hands. Adults and kids alike wore stars and stripes and a vast array of interpretations of red, white and blue.  And when the fireworks began we all watched and were excited.  Our minds were where the forefathers would have wanted them. If we could only get in that same frame of mind today where we are all friends and family and we all just love our country.  I’m not sure if it’s more of a shame that we forget all this so quickly or that we can only muster it to begin with for a holiday.  But sitting there watching the scenery, the people, the joy, it easily makes one fall in love with their land all over again. Somehow the July heat almost didn’t faze me in the midst of watermelon, cornhole and patriotism.