in ’75, hardly a man is now alive who remembers that famous day and year, and the midnight ride of Paul Revere.
I’ve always thought that this day should be our National Independence Day. Just think about it — a mad dash through the dark on horseback, warning the colonists that the British were coming. In my mind, that beats the heck out of a bunch of gouty men in a smoke-filled room, signing papers.
So every year on this day, in my heart, I salute the good things about my country. There are many — even in this time of economic downturn. This morning, I (a woman) am free to walk from my home unescorted, to drive a car, to take my dogs to a park to play. I am free to own a home, to hold a professional license. Perhaps most importantly, I am free to agree or to disagree with those that hold office — whether or not I voted for them. I have enough food, I have clean drinking water, I have access to all manner of communication devices. I know where to find my family members. I have books, I have clothing. I may choose my friends and select my enemies. I am permitted to (and damned well should) vote for those who will govern my country.
Though there are none alive who remember that midnight ride, there are many of us who should commemorate it.