The Spirit of '75

On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-Five:

Hardly a man is now alive

Who remembers that famous day and year.

(source)

Last weekend I texted my sister my memory of my late mother reciting this in our home like a proud school girl, exactly fifty years ago. If you knew my mother, you would know this is the kind of thing she loved to do. She had probably anticipated being able to to do this for months, even years and finally she got to say it.

She was a great enthusiast of American history, and had studied it as her major in college. She loved Americana and the American Revolutionary War period especially. Like all of us, she was a liberal "straight ticket" Democrat. I doubt she voted for a single Republican in her entire life. I grew up thinking patriotism and pride in America's history was independent of politics and was willing to scrap with anyone who claimed otherwise. My sister, still a liberal Democrat, still tries to embrace that spirit. All her children were born in the hospital in Concord, Massachusetts. She proudly reminded me how she had taken her oldest son to the battle commemoration there on April 19, 2009, while I was living with them in Groton. Already by then the commemoration would have taken on a slight political tinge, but nothing like the current era.

Of course this year is a big round number of the anniversary. In 1975 it was heralded as the start of the Bicentennial (my favorite mini-era of history in my lifetime). I suppose I am just tuned out of things, but the only public evidence I saw of a commemoration last weekend was at the Continental Divide Trail Days festival in the park in Silver City on Saturday (which we learned had replaced the farmer's market that week). The CDT passes right next to Silver City and the presence of through-hikers in the town and on the roads nearby is a regular sight, as we learned.

Among the many tents arranged in a great circle were probably a dozen from gear manufacturers, the county Democratic Party, and many left-leaning political activists.  At the US Forest Service tent, kids could use a saw to cut timber. I had no beef with anyone there and felt only happiness to see the lively festival as it was.

There was also a tent set off from the rest that was manned by two older men dressed in revolutionary war military costumes. The tent was flying the Grand Union Flag that was used by the "United Colonies" from 1775 to 1777.  On the table in front of them were displayed period items including several flintlock rifles. 

I noticed them on the way in as we passed them but didn't say anything. Only after making the rounds of the other tables did I realize how out of step they were with the rest of the tents, and not part of the circle of others. On our way out I decided I had to say hello and express my appreciation for them. When I walked up to them, they were already engaged in conversation with a woman about their re-enactment activities. The woman was expressing enthusiasm for their curation of historical events. She told them she had not seen anything about the anniversary in the media.

One of the gentlemen replied, "actually, there was a segment on NPR about it."

"NPR?" the woman replied, skeptical.

"Yes, it was very nice, actually," the man said, in an appreciative tone.

For a moment I felt like I was back in the old America, which I loved so much. Having nothing particular to add, and not wanting to interrupt their conversation, I smiled at them and we walked on towards the car.

"The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him but because he loves what is behind him." -GK Chesterton