Sometimes it feels like 2020 jumped into the biggest truck it could find and ran over the population of the entire world. I had to think hard to even remember that there had been Australian wildfires, because so many terrible things have happened since.
But today (or yesterday, I suppose), we Americans celebrated the 4th of July. Hundreds of years ago, our ancestors willingly put their own lives in danger for the sake of our great nation.
There is no country like ours. It is unprecedented and, in my opinion, unequaled. Nowhere does opportunity exist like it does here. But it's easy to lose sight of that when it's all you've ever known, which is true of most of the people I know. Especially when debates are happening daily about how much of a place the government has in the private lives of citizens, and it seems like events in general are cancelled this year.
So here we are, on Independence Day, and there are no public firework displays. No giant picnics or concerts. No parades. Everyone is left to fend for himself. Do we Americans even care that much about celebrating this holiday if it's not handed to us on a silver platter?
Tonight I went to a cookout, where we ate good food that everyone had contributed and then watched $500 dollars worth of privately purchased fireworks be set off in a backyard. Over the mountains of upstate New York, we could see, but not hear, the colorful explosions of similar celebrations in every direction.
Then, driving home, there were fireworks all around. Some right beside the highway, some off across the river, or farther into the cities that we passed, lighting up the sky, in celebration and remembrance.
And I remember that what America has always been a symbol of is individual freedom, expressed and fulfilled on a larger scale by communities and governments.
Without the fireworks shows, there are still fireworks. Without the picnics, we are still together. Without the parades, we are still patriots.
Though the country may shake, we are still America.
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