The Bicentennial Summer

Short Non-Fiction by Thomas Harrison Humphreys

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I have lived through more than a half-century of Fourth of July holidays.  However, while they have all been special, I recall the most fabulous Fourth occurring when I was only nine years old.  It is but a wisp of my many summer memories, but it is indeed one of my fondest childhood reminiscences.  The summer was 1976.  Both Vietnam and Watergate were still recent foul memories for our country, but it seemed that things were looking up.  Jimmy Carter, a peanut farmer from rural Georgia, was running for president, and his wholesome persona looked to be just what the country needed after a decade and a half of unrest and political scandal.  But there was yet another reason for the excitement of that season.  The country’s Bicentennial was coming about.  Two hundred years had passed since the United States of America had been born into the world of nations.  Memories of George Washington, Paul Revere, the Liberty Bell, and the Declaration of Independence were suddenly being resurrected all about.  We were indeed two centuries old.  In that summer, July 4th would not be just any other Independence Day; it would instead be a momentous birthday that we would celebrate in grand fashion.  And celebrate we did ...