Independence Day
*locked to those who know Steve is alive*
George: I was a pretty cocky kid in those days - a pretty cocky kid. A regular Yankee Doodle Dandy, always carrying a flag in a parade or following one.
President: I hope you haven't outgrown the habit.
George: Not a chance.
President: Well that's one thing I've always admired about you Irish-Americans. You carry your love of country like a flag, right out in the open. It's a great quality.
-Yankee Doodle Dandy (1942)
I'm 86 years old today, but physically, I feel 36. Birthdays are, as you might imagine, an odd experience for me, not to mention an ironic one, considering the date. I've sometimes wondered if I'd be the person I am today if I hadn't been born on the 4th of July. I've heard stories of children, July fourth babies like myself, who've thought that the celebratory fireworks were going off in their honor. But my parents never let me believe that. From the time I was old enough to understand what a birthday was, my parents figured I was old enough to understand what Independence Day was, too. They told me stories about the Founding Fathers, about the Declaration of Independence, about the Revolution. And the stories filled me with awe and wonder, with respect and reverence for all that those early Americans had done to ensure the liberties we take for granted today.
This may sound a bit silly, but I felt a connection to my country, from the moment my parents told that first story. America and I, we shared a birthday, and to my 4-year-old mind, that meant we shared a destiny, too. It was a destiny I would remember, years later, as I sat in the New York Public Library and read the writings of Benjamin Franklin; it was a destiny that I would take by the horns in 1940, when I stepped into an Army recruitment center.
America is not perfect. America is a country of human beings, human beings who are just as fallible as any others. But I truly believe that, despite all its flaws, America tries its best to be a country that its citizens can be proud of. We have a government of the people, for the people. We have the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. And we have a Constitution and a system of checks and balances that protects us against laws that violate those rights. And though I may not be wearing the flag right now, I would gladly take it up again if given the opportunity. Despite everything that has happened in the past few months, I have not lost faith in my nation. If anything, after the most recent Supreme Court decision, my faith is stronger than ever.
There are fireworks going off, outside my window. That's something I can reveal to all of you, because it doesn't give away anything about my location. It only reveals that I have remained in the country I love, the country where, right now, in almost every town and city, celebrations are occurring in collective honor of the nation's history. And as I watch them, I'm not thinking about whether I should consider this my 86th birthday, or my 36th. I'm thinking about the birthday that truly matters: the 231st birthday of the United States of America.
George: I was a pretty cocky kid in those days - a pretty cocky kid. A regular Yankee Doodle Dandy, always carrying a flag in a parade or following one.
President: I hope you haven't outgrown the habit.
George: Not a chance.
President: Well that's one thing I've always admired about you Irish-Americans. You carry your love of country like a flag, right out in the open. It's a great quality.
-Yankee Doodle Dandy (1942)
I'm 86 years old today, but physically, I feel 36. Birthdays are, as you might imagine, an odd experience for me, not to mention an ironic one, considering the date. I've sometimes wondered if I'd be the person I am today if I hadn't been born on the 4th of July. I've heard stories of children, July fourth babies like myself, who've thought that the celebratory fireworks were going off in their honor. But my parents never let me believe that. From the time I was old enough to understand what a birthday was, my parents figured I was old enough to understand what Independence Day was, too. They told me stories about the Founding Fathers, about the Declaration of Independence, about the Revolution. And the stories filled me with awe and wonder, with respect and reverence for all that those early Americans had done to ensure the liberties we take for granted today.
This may sound a bit silly, but I felt a connection to my country, from the moment my parents told that first story. America and I, we shared a birthday, and to my 4-year-old mind, that meant we shared a destiny, too. It was a destiny I would remember, years later, as I sat in the New York Public Library and read the writings of Benjamin Franklin; it was a destiny that I would take by the horns in 1940, when I stepped into an Army recruitment center.
America is not perfect. America is a country of human beings, human beings who are just as fallible as any others. But I truly believe that, despite all its flaws, America tries its best to be a country that its citizens can be proud of. We have a government of the people, for the people. We have the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. And we have a Constitution and a system of checks and balances that protects us against laws that violate those rights. And though I may not be wearing the flag right now, I would gladly take it up again if given the opportunity. Despite everything that has happened in the past few months, I have not lost faith in my nation. If anything, after the most recent Supreme Court decision, my faith is stronger than ever.
There are fireworks going off, outside my window. That's something I can reveal to all of you, because it doesn't give away anything about my location. It only reveals that I have remained in the country I love, the country where, right now, in almost every town and city, celebrations are occurring in collective honor of the nation's history. And as I watch them, I'm not thinking about whether I should consider this my 86th birthday, or my 36th. I'm thinking about the birthday that truly matters: the 231st birthday of the United States of America.