Squibs: Independence Day 2003

On Friday, U.S. citizens will mark the 227th birthday of our nation. Filled as it is with beach parties, tubing, picnics and fireworks, it’s difficult sometimes to determine just how important Independence Day is to the citizenry.
If the purpose of celebrating July 4 is to commemorate our collective independence—our struggle to invent ourselves as a democracy where everyone’s rights are protected—well, as a nation, we’re falling pretty short of that lofty goal.
There are other holidays throughout the year that call to mind the sacrifices others have made so that we can enjoy our freedom—Veterans Day, Memorial Day, Presidents Day—and like Independence Day, these typically are marked by clearance sales at department stores and specials on alcohol, potato salad, and cold cuts.
Marketing opportunities flourish around the holidays, with various retailers taking advantage of the spirit of the season to make a few bucks. It is the American way; pure, unfettered capitalism disguised as patriotism.
Independence Day is important not so much as for its historical significance as its status as a “paid day off” for those of us with such a benefit. So it should come as no real surprise that voter turnout at the polls is sinking to new lows nor should it be news that the citizenry seem unbelievably unconcerned about anything happening beyond the confines of their backyard barbeques.
It’s a far cry from the great spirit of freedom so central to the lives of our parents, a patriotism watered down considerably with changes in culture, political attitudes, and the events of our times. Independence Day seems to lack the historical relevance it once had—even as recently as the 1940s. But there is relevance there and clear, documented evidence of the bloody struggle and sacrifice contained in events that spawned the free nation we now take for granted.
Fifty-six men forfeited their financial security and even their lives in 1776, when they drafted the Declaration of Independence. These men weren’t rabble rousers or wild-eyed revolutionaries, either. Twenty-four of them were lawyers and jurists. Eleven were merchants, nine were farmers and large plantation owners. They were soft-spoken men of means and education with the security of wealth.
But, they valued liberty more.
They signed the Declaration of Independence, vowing “For the support of this declaration, with firm reliance on the protection of the divine providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor.”
It became their death warrant.
Five of the signers were captured by the British as traitors and tortured before they died. Twelve of them had their homes ransacked and burned. Two lost their sons, who were serving in the Revolutionary Army. Another had two of his sons captured. Nine of the signers fought and died from wounds or hardships of the Revolutionary War.
They suffered.
Carter Braxton of Virginia was a wealthy planter and trader. He watched his ships swept from the sea by the British Navy. He sold his home and properties to pay his debts and died a pauper.
Thomas McKean was forced to move his family from place to place after constant hounding by the British. He served in Congress without pay, and his family was forced to stay in hiding. Eventually, his possessions were taken from him and he lived in poverty.
William Ellery, Lyman Hall, George Clymer, George Walton, Button Gwinnett, Thomas Heyward, Edward Rutledge, and Arthur Middleton all had their properties looted by vandals and soldiers. AT the battle of Yorktown, Thomas Nelson Jr. noted that General Charles Cornwallis appropriated his home for British headquarters. Nelson quietly urged General George Washington to open fire on his home, destroying the Nelson house. Nelson died eventually, bankrupt.
Francis Lewis’ home and properties were destroyed. The British jailed his wife and she died within a few months.
John Hart was driven from his wife’s bedside as she lay dying and the Harts’ 13 children fled for their lives. The British laid his fields and gristmill to waste. Hart lived in forests and caves for more than a year and when he returned home, he found his wife dead and his children vanished without a trace. He died of exhaustion and a broken heart.
Lewis Morris and Philip Livingston suffered similar fates.
In the Revolutionary War, we weren’t fighting the British—we were British subjects fighting our own government. And while it’s a little tough to relate to these 18th century gentlemen with their powdered wigs, cropped pants, and tights putting the final touches on their death warrant, we can relate to those who fought and died in World War I and World War II, the 58,000 men and women who died in Vietnam, and the scores of Gulf War veterans, as well as troops in Afghanistan and Iraq who have answered a call to fight for freedom.
Freedom does have a price—measured not in dollars but in the blood shed and the lives given so that we can go to have a picnic on the beach and bash politicians and everyone else with whom we don’t agree. We are called upon to make our own sacrifices so that these “blessings of freedom” are visited on our children and grandchildren. For us, no blood is required—only the responsibility to know the issues and speak out—in letters to the editor, in our everyday lives, and at the ballot box—that is what future generations will demand of us—not that we shed our blood but that we had the courage to pull free from the bonds of apathy and remove the blinders we’re wearing to the state of the nation—and the world—in which we live.
Independence Day isn’t about blindly stuffing ourselves with hot dogs, watermelon, and Bud Light. It’s about our accountability as citizens of the U.S. to protect and defend our rights by expressing them.
First published in The Saline Reporter, July 3, 2003