Jul 3, 2024 5 min read

It begins with a race and ends with a grand fireworks display.

The Fourth of July is my favorite day of every year. While other holidays are their own seasons, the Fourth comes neatly packaged, with a definitive beginning and ending; somewhere between the Whiskey Rebellion 5K and the fireworks, there’s a big Canonsburg parade, a cookout and, if you’re in my family, croquet.

In a year of firsts for my son, I’m most excited about his first Fourth of July experience. We’ve got two red, white and blue onesies (one for the parade, one for the after-party), temporary tattoos and noise-canceling headphones that I’m crossing my fingers won’t completely cancel the polka dances as the parade marches through Canonsburg’s downtown.

My passion for the Fourth of July is a tradition handed down through the generations. My dad’s late parents, Nora “Granny” and Boyd “Pappy” Mansfield, were often in the Fourth of July parade: Pappy drove Granny and her decked-out Red Hat Society ladies in his purple F-150. More than once, Granny and Pappy made the evening news for their outlandish outfits. Granny judged our getups so my siblings, cousins and I always dressed as patriotically as possible.

For many years, the after-parade party was held at their home, where backyard football ended with The Meadows fireworks display, visible from Granny and Pappy’s yard. About 20 years ago, my dad took over hosting, and for a string of Fourths, more than 100 people packed onto the spacious property for raucous celebration. The party’s much tamer now, since my four siblings and I are older, but the Fourth of July cookouts are still marvelously fun affairs, with a drool-worthy spread, easy conversation, and fierce competition.

Sharing Mother’s Day with my son was wondrous, but it feels especially apropos passing along my favorite traditions on the day that established the American tradition.

I’ve seen posts online, encouraging people to fly colorful flags instead of the Star-Spangled Banner this Fourth. Some will dress so red, white, and blue as to put Lady Liberty and Uncle Sam to shame. Why celebrate a country so divided, you might wonder. Why celebrate the United States of America this, or any other, year?

Because, no matter on what side of the aisle you stand, America remains the greatest country on earth.

Yes, we’re going through some things. America could really use therapy to work out past traumas. Half-hearted jokes aside, the United States is a nation whose Declaration of Independence, the document signed on July 4, 1776, declares “all men are created equal.” Are we still fighting to make that statement fully true? Yes. But in most countries, equality is not a guiding principle.

Neither is the pursuit of happiness. Historically, the search for happiness has been more difficult for certain groups.Women can drive, vote. Can run Fortune 500 companies. Men can be stay-at-home dads. Black and white citizens can get married, have children. Whether you’re for or against trans rights, people of all identifications are, by law, permitted to pursue their happiness in slacks or skirts or rainbow capes. That isn’t the case in many other countries.

In places like Russia and China, citizens keep their opinions to themselves, for fear of jail, or death. In the United States, you are free to voice your opinion loudly, in public and online, without fear of retribution. You are allowed to stand outside a courthouse and protest the passage of a law. You are allowed to openly question the ability of the president to lead. You may not be jazzed about the current situation of the Land of the Free, but here, you are free. And for that, you may wake up every day and give thanks to God or the universe or your lucky stars – and while you’re worshiping or not worshiping as you choose, remember freedom of religion is one of our country’s founding principles.

I am proud to live in a land where I celebrate the country’s founding by eating German hotdogs and dancing to Slovakian polkas and cooling off with French sparkling water. And I’m star-eyed emoji to share this holiday with my son, part of the next greatest generation (I hope). I hope he’ll catch the running bug at the Whiskey Rebellion 5K, where men and women of all ages and abilities and ethnicities run side-by-side, and delight in the spectacle that is Canonsburg’s Fourth of July parade. I’m going to teach him to honor the marching veterans, and collect melty Sarris’ chocolate-covered pretzels on the lawn my family’s watched the parade from since I was a baby myself.

I can’t wait for my son to smell the burgers my dad will inevitably burn, listening to the rhythm of conversation shared between family and friends-turned-family. I can’t wait to dazzle him with sparklers at sundown.

And after a long day jam-packed with celebration that isn’t mandated, but simply merry, I can’t wait to kiss my son goodnight.

I hope he dreams of the traditions this country, and my family, continue to pass down from generation to generation, from my Marine grandfather to my dad to me to my son, traditions I hope he will one day pass down to his children.

I hope his dreams are set to the tune of “God Bless America.”