Pillsbury Press: Happy (?) 4th of July

Well, that felt like a bust.

I vaguely remember 1976 and America's Bicentennial Celebrations.

Well, not really. I was only six years old.

Anything happening that year did not seem anything different from any other Fourth of July. I had a younger sister, who was three at the time. The youngest wasn't even born yet. My aunt had not met her future spouse, which is important because my parents have spent many Fourths of July in Bexley, Ohio where they really turn on the small town charm. They even have a street with stars painted in the pavement indicating the annual parade route so potential buyers are warned.

I've been to Ohio a few times for the Fourth, but I like being home for the holiday. I like bouncing between different towns for their fireworks displays.

This year was supposed to be extra special, after all we were celebrating the Semiquincentennial, or half of 500 years. My friend, Mike, was organizing a parade to pass the Battle Monument and end up on State Street near the Old Barracks. The Old Barracks, which has been closed for an extensive renovation, was set to reopen on the Fourth to much fanfare.

That last one at least happened. The parade was announced it would be postponed to a later date when temperatures were forecast near 100 degrees, with the heat index even higher. Fireworks in Cranbury were put off until August. The fireworks in the Delaware River between the two Washington Crossings (Pennsylvania and New Jersey) went off a half an hour earlier when the dark clouds appeared to be heading in our direction.

I also headed to Bordentown to her Thomas Paine's Common Sense. Unfortunately it was moved from near his statue to inside an arts venue, and the venue lost power taking lights and air conditioning with them. It seemed like an apt metaphor for the day.

I then braved the heat to hear the Declaration of Independence read in front of the Clarke House at the Princeton Battlefield. It is powerful hearing the words read in public, the way the colonists would have first heard them.

In other words, I really tried to get into the spirit of independence 2026-style.

In the days leading up to Saturday the Fourth we enjoyed fireworks displays in Hopewell, West Windsor, Lawrenceville, and Ewing. The beginning of the week had perfect weather, and the end felt as if we were in an inferno. Things were being canceled or postponed.

It is not just the local scene. The weather in Washington, DC was even hotter and more miserable.

In general, no matter how much I tried, the vibe was not there. I saw some 250th merchandise in Lexington and Concord, MA (their big celebration was a year ago in honor of the Shot Heard Round the World), but none in Mercer County.

In the leadup 1976 there were 912 televised Bicentennial Minutes. Don recorded them each night. I suspect the recordings are in our basement someplace. They were designed to educate the general public about United States history.

My mom remembers when the fire hydrants were painted to represent patriots. She wishes she had taken pictures of them to be able to share now.

Flags and red, white, and blue bunting were all over the place.

The air was electric.

This year it felt like any other Independence Day. We saw firework displays that were nice, but not any nicer than past years.

I heard a story on NPR that said the 100th and 200th were huge celebrations, but not the 150th (1926).

Blame it on the heat or blame it on the current political situation, but we will not be waxing poetically about the semiquincentennial. May the country do better by 2076 and the tricententennial.

Hard to believe it is over. It went out with a whimper and not the bang I was expecting.