Setting The Sky On Fire

It was the fourth of July, 1998, at sunset. I was in a helicopter, cruising toward the Queen Mary, watching the world explode into color. I was writing Grace Slick’s memoir at the time, lead singer for the rock and roll group, Jefferson Airplane. We’d developed a friendship over the months that we’d been working together and I’d told her about a novel I was working on with a female helicopter pilot as one of the protagonists and the research I’d been doing.

A week before the fourth, Grace asked me if it was possible to rent a chopper to view the fireworks from the skies. I asked my pilot, she said “Yes,” and here we were with a small group of our friends, headphones in place, looking down at a world on fire.

We landed on a barge beside the Queen Mary. The ocean liner had been known for its speed and for the fact that it had transported eight hundred thousand military members during World War 11. Now it had become a hotel, a museum and event space and offered a brilliant display of fireworks every year. Grace and I sat at the edge of the barge, our feet dangling over the water, watching the skies flare up with color. We looked at each other in awe. I was moved by the beauty, we oohed and aahed, but something else was on my mind and it still is.

What does this day really mean? What does independence mean? What’s the point of all these eruptions of light and deafening sounds that made our pets run for cover? Like so many of our holidays, it seems like we’ve lost the deeper meaning. It’s so much more than eating good food and watching pretty explosions in the sky. It’s about expressing our freedom even in the restraints of society. Being able to do what we want to do. Being able to say what we want to say and be who we really are.

We were colonists under British rule for 170 years and refused to give in as they systematically took away our rights. We refused to be controlled and we did something about it. How the United States won its freedom is a much longer story than this blog will allow, but suffice it to say that July 4^th means a lot more than we give it credit for.

The truth is that we fought hard for our freedom from the start and we’re still doing it, but that’s what being an American means. I feel disappointed when I hear people say that if things don’t go their way, they’re out of here. They want to jump ship. I choose to stay and represent the light. In fact, I feel a personal obligation to uphold goodness in the face of darkness and acknowledge the things that our founding fathers gifted us with, at a huge cost to them.

Aside from the obvious political concerns, we’ve also fought for some rights that aren’t available in other countries.

Freedom from domestic violence.

The freedom to not wear a Burka and let our faces show.

The freedom to say “no.”

The freedom to say “yes.”

Freedom from slavery.

The freedom to vote.

The freedom to learn.

Freedom from racism.

The freedom to love and marry anyone we choose.

We’ve won some but we still have a lot of work to do.

I want to be clear here that I’m not putting the kabosh on the celebratory aspect of this day. Just like you, I intend to be with friends, eat good food, and enjoy watching the colors flying through the sky. But I also intend to keep in mind what I’m celebrating and why. Please join me.