On the anticipated moment at 9.09pm, thousands were impatiently checking their watches and mobiles under the subtle dimness, awaiting the commencement of the fireworks. The spectacle initiated on schedule with symphonic flair, much to the satisfaction of the viewers.
The sight of Lincoln Memorial at the heart of The National Mall takes on a special aura in the twilight, when a luminescent backdrop outlines the figure of Abe Lincoln, relaxed in his chair. The monument has held the status as the most notable memorial in America since 1922, and on chilly winter nights with the city of Washington DC tucked indoors, it is tranquil and private enough to have a discreet conversation with Uncle Abe – much like Lisa Simpson did on an introspective night years ago.
However, this was a different scene on this Fourth of July. It seemed as if all of America had gathered around Abe Lincoln’s chair, as if an approving, faint smile could be discerned on the old man’s face with just a fleeting look. A distinctive characteristic of American summers is the abrupt transition from daylight to twilight. For those who migrated from the western parts of Ireland to America, whether in coffin ships or with J1 visas, the sudden plunge into darkness is peculiarly surprising, given their familiarity with long hours of summer light extending even past midnight back home.
A swift stroll of 20 minutes to the Mall saw the city’s western skyline undergo a transformation from a vibrant, hallucinatory orange to a dark velvet, warmly cloaking the city’s monuments and a series of nondescript government buildings. The sky was teeming with aircraft, both commercial and military helicopters soaring low, along with swarms of mosquitoes fancifully hovering over the gathering, their leaders adorned with sunglasses and flags patterned bandanas.
July 4th brings with it a curious suspension of American normalcy. Any mention of Trump or Biden is consciously avoided during this time.
Patriotism is palpable every Fourth of July in America, a fundamental summer celebration where work is set aside to embrace outdoor activities, whether that’s a trip to the beach, a mountain hike, or just relaxing in the garden. The nation unites on this day, sporting summer outfits and battling with the barbecue, fully subscribing to the idea of Nathan’s Hot Dog Eating Contest. As the day unfolds, family and friends reconnect, marching bands play, and eyes eventually turn heavenward to marvel at the firework display. The event signals a reflection on the powerful, daring, and encompassing experiment that is the American democracy, as Barack Obama once illustrated.
The city of Philadelphia led the way in the inaugural firework display commemorating this day in 1777 on the City Commons. The year that followed saw George Washington offering his soldiers a double rum ration to celebrate the occasion. However, Washington refrained from encouraging “steamboat” parties on his Mount Vernon estate lawns, either due to the rowdiness they led to or the dwindling stock of liquor. Regardless, the merry-making has only evolved over the centuries into today’s grand spectacle that features a presidential barbecue at the White House, star-studded musical performances – such as those by The Killers and Reo Speedwagon – occurring all over the country and the continuous broadcasting of firework shows, like the one observed in the capital.
The influence of the Fourth of July extends into the depths of culture, inspiring Oscar-winning films and heart-rending songs. Its portrayal in the film ‘Jaws’ stands as one of the monumental scenes in American cinema: a sunny beach scene playing host to an underlying threat. It’s also the day that the finale of ‘The Wonder Years’, a coming-of-age saga known for its unwavering positivity and remarkable soundtrack shown three decades ago, was set.
The narrator recollects, “On that Fourth of July in that small suburban town, things seemed out of the ordinary. Our past belonged here, but our future lay elsewhere. We both had the understanding that, eventually, we were destined to depart. It was the final July I spent in that town.”
Despite its overwhelming charm, The Wonder Years never let more than a quarter of an hour go by without hints that life is fraught with heart-wrenching letdowns and trials. Moreover, there is hardly a more concise representation of the likely failure of the American dream than when Kevin Arnold enquires about his father Jack’s usual week as part of a school assignment. Jack’s countenance, always quick to cloud over, becomes rather glum.
“From Monday through Saturday, I toil. On Sunday, I pay my taxes.”
Dan Lauria, the actor portraying Mr Arnold, had experienced it all: originating from New York, he attended university on a football scholarship, served in Vietnam, and then returned to embark on a successful acting career. His life, by any measure, was quite remarkable.
“He concurs, it was valuable,” says Dan Arnold, as he shares a late-night sit-down with his son at their kitchen table in the concluding scene of the show, expressing contentment about how the day unfolded.
“It was a memorable Fourth.”
In the National Mall, the fireworks danced for 20 minutes. As conversation and laughter filled the air, the names of Donald Trump and Joe Biden went unspoken. July Fourth offers a brief respite from normal life. Once the celebrations concluded, the throng swiftly dispersed into the tranquil downtown streets of Washington.