[Congressional Record Volume 148, Number 89 (Friday, June 28, 2002)]
[Senate]
[Pages S6309-S6311]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




                            INDEPENDENCE DAY

  Mr. BYRD. Mr. President, the Nation will honor its birthday on the 
forthcoming July 4. That was the day on which, in 1826, both Thomas 
Jefferson and John Adams died. They both died on the same day, 50 years 
exactly from the date on which Thomas Jefferson wrote that Declaration 
of Independence and the Congress approved it. What a coincidence. God 
works in miraculous ways, his wonders to perform, does not he?
  As I look forward to that Fourth of July, I know the Senate will not 
be in session. But before we depart, I want to talk about the event 
that Senators and Members of the other body will be celebrating next 
week back in their home States and districts: Independence Day.
  As I think of Independence Day, I think of Henry Van Dyke's poem, 
``America For Me.''

     'Tis fine to see the Old World, and travel up and down
     Among the famous palaces and cities of renown,
     To admire the crumbly castles and the statues of the kings,--
     But now I think I've had enough of antiquated things.

     So it's home again, and home again, America for me!
     My heart is turning home again, and there I long to be,
     In the land of youth and freedom beyond the ocean bars,
     Where the air is full of sunlight and the flag is full of 
           stars.

     Oh, London is a man's town, there's power in the air;
     And Paris is a woman's town, with flowers in her hair;
     And it's sweet to dream in Venice, and it's great to study in 
           Rome;

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     But when it comes to living there is no place like home.

     I like the German fir-woods, in green battalions drilled;
     I like the gardens of Versailles with flashing fountains 
           filled;
     But, oh, to take your hand, my dear, and ramble for a day;
     In the friendly western woodland where nature has her way!

     I know that Europe's wonderful, yet something seems to lack:
     The Past is too much with her, and the people looking back.
     But the glory of the Present it is to make the Future free,--
     We love our land for what she is and what she is to be.

     Oh, it's home again, and home again, America for me!
     I want a ship that's westward bound to plough the rolling 
           sea,
     To the blessed Land of Room Enough beyond the ocean bars,
     Where the air is full of sunlight and the flag is full of 
           stars.

  I will think of America in the context of Henry Van Dyke's beautiful 
poem, ``America For Me.'' I am not referring to the movie of several 
years ago. No one will be battling any alien invasions. Rather, we will 
participate in that most American of all holidays, all birthdays 
certainly, celebrating the founding of this Nation on July 4, 1776. 
That was 226 years ago.
  Our Nation's birthday party is a time for picnics, ice cream, 
parades, and fireworks. It is a time for family and friends to gather 
under the shade of the biggest and the oldest tree around, camped out 
in lawn chairs and on blankets with sweating glasses of cold drinks in 
hand, watching, laughing, as children run through the lawn sprinklers--
ha, ha. What a joy that was, to run through those lawn sprinklers. 
These pages have enjoyed those things. We did not have lawn sprinklers 
when I was a boy, but I knew the joy of the summer rain.
  So while these children are running through the lawn and enjoying the 
lawn sprinklers, our minds will shift to hotdogs. When the evening 
shadows gather and the fireflies begin their display, it is time to 
pull out the sparklers and watch the fireworks. Small children then, 
like my granddaughters, like my great granddaughter, will nestle 
against parents or grandparents or great grandparents. They are made 
timid by the loud booms and shrill shrieks of the big rockets, but 
their shyness is soon forgotten as the enormous chrysanthemum bursts of 
red, gold, green, and blue burst forth against the dark sky.
  I can see it from McLean. I can look toward Washington and see these 
enormous chrysanthemums of fireworks, these bursts of gold, red, 
yellow, and blue as they burst against the dark sky. Only when the show 
is over do small heads and sticky hands hang limp against a parent's 
shoulder for a long, sleepy walk back to the car and then home.
  Many holidays touch deep wellsprings of feeling in Americans. 
Memorial Day and Veterans Day play upon our heartstrings like the 
melancholy sigh of a violin, calling up visions of heroism and 
sacrifice, of the tears and loss and suffering that are sadly necessary 
parts of defending our nation, our people, and our freedom. Columbus 
Day sounds a bright note of discovery and optimism, the shining promise 
of new worlds. Flag Day foreshadows the patriotism of Independence Day, 
but no other holiday brings out such affection and pride in our nation 
and the ideals upon which it is based. It is as if the July sun heats 
the deep strong current that flows through this nation and brings it to 
the surface, each year as strong and fresh as ever, as powerful as it 
was in 1776.
  July 4, 1776 was probably much like July 4, 2002 will be: hot, sunny, 
sticky with humidity in the South and East, dry in the West, but in 
1776, the air would have been thick with tension. The colonies' ties 
with England were tearing apart. The previous year, on July 6, 1775, 
the Congress had issued a ``Declaration of the Causes and Necessity of 
Taking Up Arms,'' which detailed American grievances while explicitly 
denying any intention of separating from Great Britain. King George 
responded by proclaiming a state of rebellion in the colonies, and 
Parliament passed an act that cut off colonial trade.
  Since January of 1776, everyone had been reading and talking about 
the then-anonymous pamphlet, ``Common Sense,'' that so eloquently 
argued for independence. Rebel forces were fighting, and winning, 
battles against British forces at Lexington, Concord, Fort Ticonderoga, 
Breed's Hill, and around Boston. A lot of things going on around 
Boston. Unable to conscript sufficient forces, King George had resorted 
to hiring mercenary soldiers from Germany the ``Hessians.'' In May, 
King Louis XVI of France secretly authorized arms and munitions 
shipments to the Americans. In June 1776 the Continental Congress 
appointed a committee to compose a declaration of independence.
  On June 28, 1776, American forces in Charleston, South Carolina, 
fought off a British attack, but on July 2, British General Sir William 
Howe landed an army that would reach 32,000 troops, including 9,000 
Hessian mercenaries, at Staten Island, New York. The same day, Congress 
voted for independence. Two days later in Philadelphia, on the evening 
of July 4, the Declaration of Independence was adopted when John 
Hancock, president of the Congress, signed the final draft copy.
  Composed primarily by one man, Thomas Jefferson, with changes made by 
after debate among the Congress, parts of the Declaration of 
Independence are well known to many Americans. Many people can recite 
the opening words--``When, in the course of human events * * * ''--and 
more can recite the first line of the second paragraph: ``We hold these 
truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal; that they 
are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights; that 
among these, are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.'' After 
that, sadly, Americans' knowledge of the substance of the Declaration 
drops off sharply. I hope that perhaps some parents will read the 
Declaration of Independence to their children this July fourth. Or some 
children will read the Declaration of Independence to their parent, on 
this 4th. The litany of wrongs inflicted upon the colonists by the 
British crown, designed to incite rebellion, still retains the power to 
inflame our passions. The actual declaration that follows, in the last 
paragraph of the document, is by contrast, firm and solemn, a 
straightforward and almost lawyerly assertion of separation from the 
Crown.
  At the signing of the Declaration, which occurred on August 2, 1776, 
John Hancock was reported to have urged unanimity, saying ``There must 
be no pulling different ways. We must hang together.'' To which 
Benjamin Franklin, with his usual wit, is said to have retorted, ``Yes, 
we must indeed all hang together, or most assuredly we shall all hang 
separately.'' Gallows humor aside, Franklin's words were true. Failure 
on the part of the signatories to make the Declaration of Independence 
a reality would, for these men, mean losing not just a war, but their 
homes, their possessions, and, in all likelihood, their lives. These 
men were committing treason. Think about that. These men were 
committing treason. They were putting their lives, their honor, their 
sacred honor, on the altar.

  They were putting everything they had on the line. The final words of 
the Declaration could not have been lightly written: ``And, for the 
support of this declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of 
Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our 
fortunes, and our sacred honor.'' In the months ahead, American defeats 
at the battles of Long Island, White Plains, and Fort Lee may have made 
a few signers wish that they had not been swayed by Hancock's plea. 
Indeed, by September of 1777, the British under Howe had driven 
Washington's army toward Philadelphia, forcing Congress to flee the 
city. On September 26, 1777, Howe's forces occupied the city where the 
Declaration of Independence was signed.
  The Revolutionary War continued for six more difficult years, until a 
preliminary peace treaty was signed in Paris. Congress would not 
declare a formal end to the war until April 11, 1783. The Treaty of 
Paris formally ending the war was signed on September 3, 1783 and 
ratified by Congress in January 1784.
  Mr. President, I think it is good to remind ourselves of these things 
from time to time. And remember those men who were willing to sign 
their names on the line, committing to the cause their lives--their 
lives, their fortunes,

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and their sacred honor. What would you have given for their lives had 
they not won that war? They were putting their lives on the line. They 
were committing treason. What a chance they took--for us. For us!
  It is difficult today, accustomed as we are to automobiles, air 
conditioning, electricity, mobile phones and instant communications, to 
imagine what those years of war must have been like. Weeks might pass 
before you heard or read, by candlelight on a hot summer's night, about 
a decisive battle in a spot that might take you weeks to reach on 
horseback. Imagine life as a Revolutionary soldier: a wool uniform if 
you were lucky, and some French powder and ammunition hanging at your 
waist while you walk in the middle of long, dust-covered column between 
battles, carrying your three-foot-long, very heavy musket over your 
shoulder. I can see those boys from Vermont, can't you? In the hills of 
New Hampshire, Boston--can't you see them, plodding along from 
Lexington on to Concord?
  In the winter you might have a tent to protect you from the winter, 
not nearly enough to eat. You might get paid only sporadically. Most of 
us could not do that for a weekend, let alone for six years.

  This Independence Day, America is at the beginning of what promises 
to be another kind war--a war against terrorism. It, too, will be 
fought on our territory as well as at points far distant from us. It 
will require the same kind of resolve and commitment, and the same 
reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, that our Founding 
Fathers showed. But next week, as we celebrate 226 years spent enjoying 
the inalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, 
of freedom from tyranny, I am confident that Americans will demonstrate 
the same fortitude and bravery that our Founding Fathers displayed. Our 
ideals are too deeply ingrained in us to be lightly given up.
  I close with the words from Longfellow's poem, ``The Building Of the 
Ship'':
     Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State!
     Sail on, O Union, strong and great!
     Humanity with all its fears,
     With all the hopes of future years,
     Is hanging breathless on thy fate!
     We know what Master laid thy keel,
     What Workmen wrought thy ribs of steel,
     Who made each mast, and sail, and rope,
     What anvils rang, what hammers beat,
     In what a forge and what a heat
     Where shaped the anchors of thy hope!
     Fear not each sudden sound and shock,
     'T is of the wave and not the rock;
     'T is but the flapping of the sail,
     And not a rent made by the gale!
     In spite of rock and tempest's roar,
     In spite of false lights on the shore,
     Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea!
     Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee,
     Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears,
     Our faith triumphant o'er our fears,
     Are all with thee,--are all with thee!

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