Happy Fourth of July! by Nancy L. Eady

I was casting about for topics to write about for Monday, June 29, and thought about writing something for the upcoming Fourth of July holiday, which will be the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence. In doing so, I was trying to figure out exactly what a 250th anniversary is called. According to Google, some terms include “semiquincentennial,” “sestercentennial,” “quarter-millennium,” and “bisesquincentennial.” They all sound like a mouthful to me. Being of a precise nature (at least about some things), I wanted to know which was the “official” term, and turned to my beloved Oxford English Dictionary, only to learn that the OED does not include any of these terms among its definitions. 

So now I’m stuck trying to decide what to call the upcoming anniversary. “Quarter-millennium” sounds a bit too grand for my taste, and both “semiquincentennial” and “bisesquincentennial” are too long. To be honest, “sestercentennial” isn’t much better, but it is at least a little shorter. So “sestercentennial” it is. And how will I celebrate the upcoming holiday? 

My mother, sisters and I all live in different parts of Alabama. We rarely plan activities together for the Fourth of July, and the one time we did was a disaster.  But every year, we all watch “A Capitol Fourth” on PBS, including the fireworks show afterward. The only time the show ever disappointed me was the year I learned that Jack Everly, the conductor of the National Symphony Orchestra, was not formerly a member of the Everly Brothers, a popular music group in the 50s and 60s. That’s my own fault, not the fault either of the show or Mr. Everly. If you think watching fireworks on television is tame when compared to the real thing, doing anything outdoors in Alabama in July is something that you do only from necessity, not for pleasure. Humidity down here abates for no man (or woman.) 

It’s not particularly logical to feel closer to someone simply because you know that they are watching the same thing on television at the same time that you are, but that’s how it works in my family. We have a good time in the days following the show discussing it with each other over the phone. I have a similar feeling over Thanksgiving if I happen to be watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. The same is NOT true for the Iron Bowl (the annual football game between Auburn University and the University of Alabama.) I feel close to those members of the family who are also Auburn fans, but not the Alabama contingent. They’re rooting against my team, after all. We make up after the game is over though, win or lose. 

Wherever you are, and whatever you are doing at the time, I hope you enjoy your Fourth of July holiday as well. I’ll be thinking of you while I’m watching my show in my air-conditioned room. 

Historical Musicals

by Paula Gail Benson

This summer, the broadcast to be watched on the 4^th of July weekend was the recording of Broadway’s original cast of Hamilton. The phenomenon, based on Ron Chernow’s 818-page biography of the “ten dollar Founding Father,” Alexander Hamilton, has been chronicled in programs on CBS and PBS as well as other media. The process by which it came to Broadway is detailed in the 288-page Hamilton: the Revolution, by Lin Manuel Miranda and Jeremy McCarter. Lauded for its creative approach and non-traditional casting, according to Wikipedia, the show was nominated for a record 16 Antoinette Perry (Tony) awards and won 11, more than any single production has ever received.

For those of us familiar with the music, part of the joy was seeing how it translated to the stage and how the original cast interpreted it. The intricate choreography was meticulously developed by Andy Blankenbuehler, with specific meaning behind each movement. The joyful “Helpless,” Eliza’s song upon meeting and marrying Alexander, is followed by Angelica’s regretful “Satisfied,” when time is literally reversed to replay the moment of the meeting from Angelica’s view. The double casting that allowed key performers to take on two roles, and often two perspectives, provided some delightful and challenging moments for the actors. The actors’ dexterity with the number of words in the rap numbers, the joy of Jefferson’s return from Paris in “What Did I Miss,” and Burr’s bring down the house song and dance of “The Room Where It Happened” along with the entire company’s performance in “Yorktown” are just some of the amazing highlights of a truly outstanding production.

 

Daveed Diggs in his Tony award winning role as Thomas Jefferson

However, before Hamilton, the 4^th of July musical not to be missed was 1776. Premiering on Broadway in 1969, it was made into a film in 1972 and related the story of John Adams’ struggle to convince the Continental Congress to pass a resolution for independence. Sherman Edwards, who wrote the music and lyrics, had the idea from his time spent teaching high school history. He convinced Peter Stone to write the book by playing the first song, “Sit Down, John,” demonstrating that the story would not be about idolizing the founding fathers, but treating them as Franklin says in a later scene, “We’re men–no more, no less–trying to get a nation started against greater odds than a more generous God would have allowed.”

Like Hamilton, 1776 is based upon real occurrences and actual words spoken by the historical figures. Edwards and Stone did take some liberties with historical facts. In Signing Their Lives Away: The Fame and Misfortune of the Men Who Signed the Declaration of Independence, Denise Kiernan and Joseph D’Agnese chronicle the lives of the fifty-six men who signed the Declaration. The 1776 cast limits the number to twenty. In the musical, the character Stephen Hopkins says he wants to watch each man’s face as they sign the document. That actually was spoken by William Ellery, the other representative from Rhode Island. (By the way, the Declaration wasn’t signed on July 4, but on August 2.) Martha Jefferson never traveled to Philadelphia, but the scene Stone and Edwards wrote for Martha Jefferson allowed Betty Buckley to make her Broadway debut.

The musical encountered some political resistance. President Nixon objected to the lyrics in “Cool, Considerate Men,” (a minuet suggesting that men will always favor the more conservative political right in hopes that they may someday achieve wealth if they don’t already have it). That song was originally removed from the film. Later, in the director’s cut, it was restored.

Adams (William Daniels), Franklin (Howard Da Silva), and Jefferson (Ken Howard) from the film 1776

William Daniels, the actor who played John Adams, declined his Tony nomination as best featured actor in a musical because he contended that he was eligible for best actor in a musical. He did not receive the best actor nomination because his name wasn’t above the title, a Tony rule at the time. (See this link for background information about 1776.)

 

Lin Manuel Miranda backstage with William Daniels

Diane Paulus, of the American Repertory Theater at Harvard, planned to bring an all-female cast of 1776 to Broadway this year. I hope she will be able to regroup the production once theaters reopen.

Speaking of which, I would like to recommend one additional non-traditional casting for a future version of Hamilton. Wouldn’t it be great to see Judi Dench play King George III?

Jonathan Groff as King George III

Judi Dench as Queen Elizabeth I

Some Thoughts on the Fourth By Margaret S. Hamilton

Bright red geraniums stand tall in their pots, planted with cascades of white petunias and spikes of blue salvia, lined up on front steps all over town in celebration of the Fourth. Star-spangled bunting draped on porch railings, every house flying an American flag.

Except mine. Last summer, someone stole my father’s bicentennial stars and stripes flag, the number “76” encircled by thirteen stars on its blue field, plus its pole, from my street-side mailbox.

Many other houses in the area were hit by the flag thief. Why steal a flag? Flags can’t be fenced, like jewelry or electronics. I was outraged and saddened. I expect political signs to be snatched from my yard. Ohio elections are contentious. We take the time and spend a few dollars to replace them. I rummaged around and found an American flag I’ll fly from a bedroom window. I defy our local flag thief to scale the brick façade to grab it.

As a writer, I draw on material from a lifetime of events. I channeled my frustration about the theft into a recent Kings River Life short story about a flag thief. I am blessed (or cursed) with insatiable curiosity; in my story, I explore the history of the uniquely shaped Ohio state flag, as well as the American flag with seventeen stars when Ohio gained statehood in 1803.

I’ve celebrated the Fourth with fireworks in many places—summer YMCA camp in the Poconos, on Cape Cod beaches, overlooking Santa Monica Bay in Los Angeles, with the Cleveland Symphony at Blossom Music Festival. In Atlanta, we sat on the curb of the Alpharetta Highway and devoured ice cream. Now we’re in Cincinnati, a thirty minute walk from two venues, the fireworks show not until ten o’clock, when it’s finally dark on the far edge of the Eastern Time zone.

We’ve enjoyed performances of Tchaikovsky’s “1812 Overture” performed with fireworks, clanging bells, and cannon fire. In 1974, Arthur Fiedler realized it was the perfect piece for a Boston Pops July Fourth performance, though it celebrates Napoleon’s retreat from Russia, not our War of 1812. In the overture, the spirited tune of “La Marseillaise” is gradually overcome by the statelier “God Save the Czar.” On Independence Day it’s all about celebrating victory from oppression.

In our family, the Fourth isn’t complete without a road race—in Atlanta, the 70,000 runner Peachtree Road Race on what is one of the hottest days of summer. In Cincinnati, a local 10K with a killer hill.

Hamburgers and hotdogs are popular all over the States. We ate grilled salmon with peas in the West. Fried chicken and biscuits in the South. Grilled brats and hot potato salad in the Midwest. Homemade ice cream with cherry pie. Sheet cake iced in white, decorated with strawberries and blueberries. Luscious slices of juicy watermelon. And with Michigan blueberries readily available in Cincinnati, blueberry muffins.

Readers, how do you celebrate the Fourth?

Margaret S. Hamilton writes cozy stories and traditional amateur sleuth novels set in a small Ohio town and Louisiana. She lives in the Cincinnati suburbs.

Friends and Family and the Fourth of July

By Julie Tollefson

This weekend, as we have nearly every Fourth of July for almost three decades, we’ll host a party and crawfish boil. It’s one of my favorite events of the year, full of fun and sun and the people I love. Some friends and family, dispersed over the years by job opportunities and new adventures, will travel hundreds of miles for this annual reunion.

The irony of hosting this particular holiday party for more than half of my life, though, is that I don’t like fireworks. I’m a worrier, and once we started adding children into the mix, I worried more. For a holiday so closely associated with fire and explosives, my concerns are not entirely unjustified. And we’ve had some close calls.

One year, wind knocked over a big night display and spewed horizontal balls of fire toward the metal stock tank “pool” where the children were “swimming.” Another year, an errant rocket flew between the legs of one little guy, burning a perfect hole in his shorts and narrowly missing skin. He hung those shorts on the wall of his bedroom for years, a Fourth of July trophy.

Our neighbor, a volunteer firefighter, once climbed up on the roof to ensure our house didn’t burn down. And a few years ago, we cancelled nightworks altogether because drought had sucked every bit of green from the field surrounding our new house, leaving it crunchy, dry, and vulnerable to the slightest spark.

With that rich, complex history of anxiety and joy as a foundation, I knew exactly what I would write about when the Short Mystery Fiction Society announced “Flash and Bang” as the theme of its first anthology. I channeled 25 years of unease and apprehension into my entry about a man who wakes the day after his annual Fourth of July blowout to find his wife dead in the backyard, buried under fireworks detritus. Because he’s never liked the holiday, he spent most of the party drinking bourbon in the house. Bits and pieces of the night before come back to him, fractured and fragmented and horrifying.

But that’s fiction, thank goodness.

In real life, my worries have dimmed a bit as we’ve grown older and our gathering has lost some of the flash and bang of our youth. We’ll eat crawfish and enjoy adult beverages, sure. Some of the children, now grown, will touch my heart by making an appearance when they could be with young people their own age. But mostly, we’ll enjoy hanging out together and re-telling our shared stories.

What are your favorite traditions or holidays? How do you celebrate?