We interrupt this program...

Had to add this; it's a reflection of me,
Gerald, Carri and Mom in the
Vietnam Memorial

Coming from the family I did, I can't let the 4th of July go by without honoring the events behind the holiday. My Dad was a Marine. He died in 1991, retired, but he never stopped being a Marine and was always proud to be an American. He was as loyal to this country as they come and he and Mom raised us kids to love this country. Mom matched Dad's Patriotism with a force of her own. I'm so grateful to them.

A few years ago Mom, my sister and her family (Carri, Gerald, Sean and Keli), and I went back east on a two-week excursion. We started in upstate New York and followed the east coast down, stopping in Boston and Philadelphia on our way to Washington D.C. In Boston, we walked Freedom Trail, which is, literally, a trail through Boston marked by a red brick path. We walked the deck and underbelly of the USS Constitution, the oldest commissioned warship afloat in the world. The trail led us to Paul Revere's house and the Old North Church where Robert Newman signaled with lanterns when the British were coming. We traversed Feneuil Hall, perhaps the oldest Mall in the world having been a marketplace in Boston since 1742. And we stood on the sloped mound of Bunker Hill, the site of the first major battle fought in the Revolutionary War in 1775. A battle we lost but what it stirred would become known as the American spirit which eventually won the war and our freedom.

Mom outside Independence Hall

In Philadelphia, we waited in line to enter Independence Hall. In the movie "National Treasure", Nicholas Cage's character unrolls the declaration in the very room where it had been signed hundreds of years earlier and he kind of stops in wonder. I understood that moment. Not that I was unrolling the Declaration when I was in Independence Hall, but I stopped in wonder and awe to be in that room where those men - none of them perfect, all of them with flaws galore - still believed in what they were doing and risked their lives to sign a piece of paper we would eventually respect as a National Treasure.

Even now, years later, recalling the memories of our trip brings tears to my eyes, but I was, quite frankly, overwhelmed with the feel of it all "in the moment." Don't call the padded room people on me, but at times during our trek along Freedom Trail and standing Independence Hall, I swear I could feel the yearning for freedom of those early Americans in every brick, every stone, every bit of mortar. I'm so grateful to those wonderful people who followed the urge to fight for something they believed in, no matter the cost.

A prophet in the Book of Mormon said, “… whatsoever nation shall possess [this land] shall be free from bondage, and from captivity, and from all other nations under heaven, if they will but serve the God of the land, who is Jesus Christ...” (Ether 2:10, 12.)


I am so grateful to my ancestors who chose to come to America seeking a better life for their families. I am grateful for those who fought the war that won this country's freedom. I am grateful for the men, women and their families who still fight - either physically or emotionally, here or abroad - to keep that freedom alive.

Happy Birthday, America. Let Freedom Ring!