America at 250

I was 14 when the USA turned 200. Mired in the adolescent no man's land between the eighth and ninth grades, I was a boy focused more on baseball, fishing, and girls than the larger world around me.

Even so, I paid attention to the bicentennial. Like many others in the spring and summer of 1976, I found it impossible to ignore the hype, the commercialism, and the unabashed patriotism of the time.

Bicentennial clothes, coins, buttons, posters, and other collectibles filled the shelves in stores. Patriotic public service announcements competed with patriotic advertisements on the airwaves. [No one had cable then. Trust me.] Politicians of all stripes rushed to microphones to embrace the red, white, and blue. Nearly everyone caught the Spirit of '76.

On July 4 itself, millions watched 200 ships from 30 nations, including 16 tall ships, sail into New York Harbor. Later, they attended picnics, baseball games, and fireworks displays. Even in the wake of Vietnam and Watergate, they celebrated the nation's birthday with cheer.

Things feel different this time. Though people can still find pomp and patriotism in the usual places, they cannot do so as quickly or easily as they could fifty years ago. America at 250 is a different country.

The United States today seems less a united nation than a large collection of warring tribes — each with its own interests, identities, and often divisive agendas. It is a place where unity in public life, in the culture, and on social media is increasingly rare. It is a far cry from the country of July 4, 1976, or even the one of a generation ago.

Many saw this coming. John Adams warned that republics collapse when public virtue declines. Thomas Paine worried that tyranny, complacency, and abandonment of natural rights could unravel the American experiment. George Washington feared factionalism. Ben Franklin told a citizen outside the Constitutional Convention, "You have a republic, if you can keep it." Frenchman Alexis de Tocqueville, an admirer of the United States, said that democracy contained the seeds of its own decay. Even before the Civil War, he saw problems.

As a student of history and an author who recently published a trilogy on the American Revolution, I care about civics, our social fabric, and the traditions and laws that used to bind us. Like many Americans, I wonder if the next 250 years will be better than the last 250. Like de Tocqueville and our Founding Fathers, I see the challenges.

But I also see the promise. I see it when communities come together for a cause or defend the rights of others. I see it when people speak civilly in public forums, engage in civic duties, and honor our flag and our anthem at sporting events. [If you are looking for an inspiring anthem singing, here is a good one.] Even in our difficult times, I see evidence that Americans still want their noble experiment to succeed.

I saw it up close this summer when I visited the USS Arizona and other memorials at Pearl Harbor. I witnessed the kind of reverence and love of country that one cannot manufacture or sell in a store.

I have even seen it among foreign visitors. One highlight of watching the World Cup has been watching soccer fans from around the world embrace our culture and hospitality. Scots sang "Sweet Caroline" at a Boston Red Sox baseball game. Japanese fans savored barbecue in Texas. Others discovered Buc-ee's, football rituals, oversized trucks, road trips, and American abundance and ingenuity. They found much to like in a country that is often maligned, even (sadly) by its own citizens.

Many today believe that America's best days have come and gone. They see a nation and even a people in decline. I do not. I believe our problems are mere potholes on a road to a better place. On this July 4, I am more optimistic than pessimistic about the future.

I don't anticipate being around for the tricentennial. I would need some wonder drugs and perhaps divine intervention to make it to 2076, so I will instead celebrate today. Like a person who appreciates what is and not simply what can be, I will raise a glass to my wonderful country.

Here's to you, America. If you are not perfect, you are still worthwhile. You are the place that has given me liberty, opportunity, and perspective for more than sixty-four years. May you live long and prosper.