The Fourth of July

The Fourth of July!

For the benefit of those readers in overseas lands, on the 4^th of July we celebrate the Independence of our United States from Great Britain, a struggle which began in 1775 and ended with the Treaty of Paris in 1783.  But, the struggle for our independence and freedom from tyranny still rages.

Now, just in case my American readers think I’ve lost my calendar, please remember I have readers around the globe, so in quite a few spots, it’s already the 4^th.

I venture to say, most Americans do not realize the war lasted the best part of eight long years, nor do they realize the matter was very much in doubt for much of that time, or that many colonialists, called Loyalists, supported the Crown and fought on the side of Britain.

It is hard to think back about the thirteen original American colonies, and later on the United States, fighting against Britain, a country that is now one of our oldest and most solid allies.  In fact, we fought two wars with the British, the War of Independence and the War of 1812.

But, Independence Day is as much about the present day as it is about past conflicts. Although it’s a national holiday, it is also very personal. It’s a celebration of Freedom, which I purposefully capitalize. And unlike the songwriter Kris Kristofferson who included these lyrics in his song, Me and Bobby McGee, “Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose,” the word Freedom means much more to me than that.  Freedom is a long and rocky road of struggle, millions of deaths, and the raw sacrifice of men and woman, so that their fellow countrymen can today enjoy lives worth living, free to live and work and raise families, without living under the heavy yoke and chains of oppression.

Many in the world are still not free and those citizens of recently freed nations will know exactly what I mean by Freedom.

In my family, Freedom is very personal.  My father went to war as a 25 year old pilot in 1943.  He flew B-24 Liberator bombers in the Pacific Theater and fortunately returned to live a full and happy life.  

He didn’t talk much about the war, but when we lived in Japan, about ten years after the war, he bore no resentment toward the Japanese people.  I honor him for that as much as for his war service and decorations. 

And on this Independence Day, I remember my mother and grandmother just as much as my father.  They both sent a husband and son off to war, suffering everyday with the heartbreaking thought that he might not return, with his final resting place unknown somewhere in the broad expanse of the Pacific.  My mother also lost a cousin, who flew B-29s in the Pacific.  His last words to his crew members as they drifted apart amid the ocean swells was, “Good luck to you all!”

Twenty-seven years after my father returned from war, my mother sent her son to another war in the Pacific.  I cannot even imagine the torment.

So you see, the ring of Freedom and sacrifice echoes through the centuries and through not only those who served, but also through families and towns and cities, all of which have suffered grievous loss.

 As the British poet, John Milton wrote:  “They also serve who only stand and wait.”

God bless us all and God bless the Freedom we enjoy on this holy Independence Day, a day we should never take for granted. And for me it's personal.