Jul 3, 2009
I was eleven in 1976. The Bicentennial is my earliest memory of a national event. I remember it more clearly than any of my early birthdays. Everything was red, white and blue. Every commercial was patriotic. Even fashion focused on the flag. Eagles appeared everywhere. The Bicentennial was like a sweet sixteen and a fiftieth birthday rolled into one. On the one hand, the nation was absolutely giddy with excitement about the future. We were a young nation with tremendous prospects. On the other, we were a middle-aged parent looking back proudly at our national accomplishments.
For me, July Fourth 1976 culminated in an amazing display of fireworks at the confluence of the Ohio and Muskingum River with antiquarian riverboats in attendance. It was simply awesome. I couldn’t have been prouder or felt more independent. I didn’t have a care in the world or a thought that was not positive. The year-long, long awaited day was as perfect as the red, white and blue banners that hung everywhere.