The wholesome excitement of that day contrasts wildly from the disappointment that many are feeling now.
It was 1976 and the summer before my tenth birthday. Even at that young age, I felt the weight of the celebration at hand. It was The United States of America’s Bicentennial. It was a big deal. Celebrations had been in the works for years. The largest being Operation Sail and the Grand Parade of Sailing Ships along the Hudson River. Nicknamed Op-Sail, the event captured the imagination with actual bits of history floating by the iconic NYC skyline.
The spirit of the day extended beyond our borders to those of our allies. Sixteen international ships sailed to New York to join the celebration of the 200th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence. Each of the ships flew a banner featuring the tricolor star insignia of the Bicentennial. There were one hundred and thirteen other vessels of all shapes and sizes that participated as well.
We went to my Uncle Frank’s house in Cliffside Park, NJ for a fun filled day of BBQ and games. His neighbor across the way opened his backyard to us so we could stand along the edge of the Palisades, just south of the George Washington Bridge and watch the majestic ships go by. It was glorious. It was wholesome. Total strangers who likely disagreed on many fronts were laughing, talking, and mingling as the day pressed on. Later that night, we sat in this stranger’s yard, watching fireworks.
It sounds like old-man-yelling-at-clouds kinda nostalgia, but the country was very different 50 years ago. Sure we were flawed. President Ford was not perfect as he served his abridged term. But there was hope in the air as a peanut farmer from Georgia campaigned for the working class, restoring trust in government in the wake of Watergate, and world peace. He was gaining momentum and popularity. There was also a sense of purpose, a sense of where we were from. Scars and all. Even I knew this as a child of nine going on ten.
It’s 2026 and America’s Semiquincentennial feels very different. Sure there are some decorations around, but the joy of the Bicentennial is missing. I’ve lived in Hoboken, NJ for many years now and with each passing year, the city tries desperately to downplay any celebrations that would attract outsiders. So much so that this year they will be turning non-residents away on July 4th. The fact that we as a society are so concerned with outsiders at a time like this as we commemorate our origin story just baffles me. We’re not in the wake of corruption and controversy, we’re smack in the middle of it.
We all come from a rich history of outsiders. None of us are native. And yet we have a deeply delusional president stating he has no concern for the working class. His main goals seem to be keeping certain people out of the country, making it harder for those of us here, and profiting personally whenever possible. We have a flacid and inept congress who have only recently begun to show the slightest sliver of a backbone, and only because the numbers are against them and constituents are speaking out.
Maybe I’m a dreamer, but I feel there is a sense of hope reminiscent in a way of 1976. A glimmer of light in the distance coming from progressive minds who are chipping away at established political strongholds and stereotypes. We’ve seen what is happening in New York City is now happening all around this country. People are realizing they’ve been lied to and the system has been manipulated against them. They are standing up and fighting. Not only on the left, but a small but growing group on the right.
So, as I look back on those happy memories from 1976, I look ahead to the years that will follow 2026. Maybe there’s little motivation to celebrate this anniversary, but there’s change coming. I can feel it. If nothing else, let’s celebrate that. Let’s work together to make this country what it was meant to be. Let’s take cues from the World Cup. Invite strangers in. Share your food with someone in need. Be kind to one another.
We will still disagree on many fronts, but let’s laugh again and help one another to heal, survive, and thrive.
Cheers!
Stephen
