It’s 6:20 am on July 4^th, American Independence Day. At about this same time 152 years ago, the men in Hood’s Texas Brigade were enduring heavy rain as they served as part of the rearguard of General Lee’s Confederate Army.  

During the two days before, July 2^nd and 3^rd, the fate of the nation, the outcome of the Civil War, had been decided. Lee’s soldiers had failed on two consecutive days to break the Union “fishhook” line that stretched over the farmland for a couple of miles just south of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.

Lee’s effort to take the war north out of Virginia, had failed for the second consecutive year, the huge battle at Gettysburg following a similarly devastating battle at Antietam, Maryland ten months earlier in September of 1862.

Although the Civil War would last another twenty-one months, historians looking back pretty much agree that Gettysburg was the turning point, the beginning of the end.

Last year, in 2014, I marched in a morning parade in San Antonio on July 4^th with my Civil War reenacting group, dressed as Confederate soldiers, in tribute to the Texas soldiers who “gave their last full measure” in military service to their state and to the short-lived Confederate nation. 

I can’t march in the parade today since our family is vacationing on the beach in Galveston, too far to join in. Instead of parading in smelly old Confederate uniforms, we’ll have a family parade to the beach with granddaughters Eva and Violet wearing their patriotic swimsuits and afterwards we’ll grill wieners and hamburger patties.

The other thing I did last year on July 4^th was celebrate Independence Day with our neighbors after getting home from the parade.

At 2:00 pm, the kids rang the big brass bell my neighbor has mounted in his front yard. That’s a tradition that goes back to colonial times when churches all across the nation rang their steeple bells in celebration of the happy, and unlikely, ending to our war for independence from Great Britain.

The second thing we did was to gather in a circle of lawn chairs while the adults took turns reading the Declaration of Independence out loud, paragraph by paragraph.

Last July 4th was the first time I’ve ever taken part in a group that read the Declaration to each other, and it was worth the effort. I got through my part without tears, barely. But I can be leaky faucet, and had to keep wiping my eyes when the next guy, Ben Mouser, took his turn reading. Ben joined our Civil War reenacting group at the age of fourteen and is now an infantryman in the US Army. He’s in Germany now, but last year on July 4^th, Ben had just returned from several months of duty in a far flung outpost in Afghanistan.

This photo is me and Sam Adams, who was a guest also, and Ben Mouser next to the Big Brass Bell. I guess you can tell that Ben is the tall one whose hair isn’t gray. We’re still wearing our Confederate duds without the jackets and hats.

Whether at the beach or in a parade or in a circle of friends and family reading the Declaration of Independence, let’s all take some time today to reflect that the United States of America is truly the hope of the world and the best place to live on earth, even if from time to time we squabble like cousins at family reunion.

Five-month old Jackson is up now and it’s time for me to go grab the kid so he can grunt and slobber on my shoulder for a few minutes of granddad time.

Happy Independence Day to “all ya’ll,” as we say in these parts. Hope you get to see some pretty fireworks this evening after a good day of celebration and maybe a short afternoon nap.