Where Were You When: American Bicentennial Edition
Memories of July 4th, 1976. An open thread.
Each year in recent memory, as America has inched closer to seeming like a failed state and I’ve become more aware of its unjust history, it’s gotten harder for me to feel excited (or even good) about celebrating the Fourth of July. This year, in the midst of what is clearly an authoritarian judicial coup, threatening the basic human rights and bodily autonomy of so many, I’ve hit an all-time low in terms of my feelings about the holiday and my hopes for our democracy.
But on July 4th 1976, when I was an innocent almost-11-year-old, I was pretty damned excited to celebrate this country’s 200th birthday. I felt grown up accompanying my dad to his friends’ Manhattan apartment overlooking the Hudson River, where we watched the Grand Parade of Sailing Ships. I really got into the spirit of the occasion, dressing in the blue jumpsuit with red and white patches from Chwatzky’s Department Store that my best friend also had.
On Instagram yesterday, Oldster contributor Kathleen McKitty Harris suggested that everyone from Generation X should write about their memories from that day. I asked her whether she’d mind if I shared that here as a prompt for an open thread—not just for Gen-Xers, but for Oldsters of any age, who were alive in the mid-70s. She was happy to oblige. So here we are.
What were you doing on July 4th, 1976? Do tell…
Fighting back: An action you can take right now…
Even though I’m down on the direction this country is going in, I’m not ready to give up.
And even though the Democratic party hasn’t been aggressive enough in fighting back against what turns out to have been a long-running coup, I’m not ready to give up on them, either. The bottom line is that we need more of them in the House and Senate if we want to restore any of our rights going forward, and avoid becoming a completely totalitarian state. This is a legitimate, looming danger.
I’m going to periodically post opportunities for actions we can all take in these dangerous times for our democracy. Here’s today’s:
Field Team 6, an organization I’ve phone- and text-banked with in the past, is offering an ongoing opportunity to take part in post-carding, sending beautiful cards they’ve designed to motivate eligible voters to register and cast ballots. If you’ve got time and need something constructive to do toward saving our democracy, please consider this!
In July of 1976, I was eight years old. My third-grade year at Solvay Elementary School in Solvay, NY had just ended. Before "graduation" (to fourth grade) and summer vacation started, we had a parade around our school to celebrate the Bicentennial. My mother was in her sewing phase, and she made red, white, and blue outfits for my younger sister and I. I remember the heat, the sunlight, the blue sky, and the little American flags we waved as we marched across the playground. There were also discussions at the time about America adopting the metric system, and we were learning about it in school. The metric system to me seemed like the future, almost like my beloved science fiction books. Like we were finally going to join the rest of the world as one big happy utopian family, counting everything in blocks of ten like rational human beings. But of course, in typical contrarian American fashion, we didn't make the switch. Maybe it's fuzzy hindsight, but at the time I remember feeling optimistic about my country, and the future. I don't feel that way anymore. I doubt I will ever feel that way about my country again.
I was about to turn twelve, an only child with just my dad -- my mother had died of cancer six months earlier on a bitter cold day. My dad and I didn't process the loss -- just kept marching forward with school and work. My goal was to "be normal." I was only able to feel relaxed and happy around my best friend, one year younger, who lived next door. But my dad and I went to Chicago's Grant Park/lakefront fireworks with family friends who had slightly older girls. My journal, which has a Bicentennial sticker on it, reads:
July 3, 1976 - Well, tomorrow night we’re going to the Fireworks with the J____'s and I can’t wait, and Monday we’re going to my uncle Phil’s. Boy. I’m a Bicentennial nut. I love fireworks and firecrackers and everything like that.
10:19 AM July 4th, 1976, Sunday
Well here we go with the Bicentennial!
5:07 PM, July 4th, 1976 - we’re going pretty soon, in about half an hour. (But the fireworks won’t start till 8:45 tonight.) I can hardly wait.
Thurs. July 8th, 1976
I had a crummy 4th of July. Everybody talked but not to me. I hate them. (M___ & O___.) Except for D____. She’s nice.