A few months ago, while rummaging through some old memorabilia, I came across a large bronze commemorative medallion my grandfather gave me during our nation’s Bicentennial celebration in 1976. I was only five years old at the time, but I still remember the exuberance and pride that seemed to fill every corner of our community—flags waving from front porches, parades winding through town, and fireworks lighting up the summer sky. Oh, the fireworks.
Even our little town of Kirby joined in the celebration. There was a parade and community events at Brookside School, our one-room schoolhouse. For a young boy, it was all tremendously exciting, made even more memorable when Vermont Governor Tom Salmon arrived by helicopter to take part in the festivities.
Brookside happened to sit next to my grandfather’s cornfield. In early July, the corn was knee-high and growing well. Unfortunately, the helicopter pilot decided that cornfield looked like the perfect landing spot. You can imagine what the rotor wash did to those rows of corn. Watching my grandfather enthusiastically express his displeasure to the governor and his pilot left a lasting impression on my young mind.
My grandfather was a true patriot. The son of poor Irish immigrants, he embodied the American dream. He never made it beyond the eighth grade because he was needed on the family farm. At sixteen, he purchased his first truck and began hauling milk for local farmers. Over time, he built a successful transportation business and a thriving farm. In an era when opportunity seemed boundless, even a poor Irish Catholic kid with no high school diploma could envision a better future through hard work and determination.
What stands out most in my memory, however, is that his pride in America was hardly unique. It was widely shared. Patriotism was not viewed through a partisan lens. It was simply a common thread woven throughout civic life.
The 1970s were hardly an easy period for the United States. In many respects, they resemble our own. Inflation was high. The nation was still grappling with the aftermath of Vietnam. The previous decade had been marked by political violence and social unrest. Watergate had shaken public confidence in government and public institutions.
And yet, Americans celebrated.
We had recently put a man on the moon. The United States remained a global leader. The Baby Boom generation was entering its prime. Families gathered for cookouts. Neighbors flew flags. Communities came together to celebrate the remarkable experiment that is American democracy.
As we approach our nation’s 250th anniversary, the mood feels different.
What I see today is less pride and more fatigue. Whether it stems from our contentious political climate, the sense that the economy no longer works for ordinary people, the relentless twenty-four-hour news cycle, or the divisive influence of social media, I cannot say with certainty. Most likely, it is some combination of all of them.
Yet despite these challenges, I believe we still have much to celebrate.
The great American experiment continues. Opportunities still exist for those willing to seek them. The United States remains one of the world’s most influential nations and one of its strongest economies. Millions around the globe still dream of calling America home.
Consider what we have accomplished over the last fifty years. Advances in medicine have extended and improved countless lives. Innovations in technology have transformed how we work, communicate, and learn. American universities, businesses, entrepreneurs, and researchers continue to drive progress that benefits not only our own citizens but much of the world.
None of this means we should ignore our shortcomings. Patriotism is not blind allegiance, nor does it require us to overlook our faults. In fact, one of America’s greatest strengths has always been its capacity for self-correction. We debate. We argue. We stumble. But over time, we adapt, improve, and move forward.
That is something worth celebrating.
So this Fourth of July, I will proudly fly my flag. I will gather with family and friends for a cookout. I will find a place to watch fireworks and reflect on the generations who built, defended, and improved this nation before us.
Two hundred and fifty years after its founding, the American story remains unfinished. That is not a weakness—it is the source of our enduring strength. And if history is any guide, I am confident that this remarkable nation will continue to flourish for generations to come.
