Why Can’t We Be Patriotic?
This past Saturday, as the Earth united in New York City to honor its anthem, I felt extremely fortunate gazing at the white sails gliding across the harbor.
During America’s 250th birthday bash, I was privileged to sail in what was officially the largest fleet ever, with a remarkable fleet of fighter jets dancing in the sky above us.
Onboard the America 2.0, a 105-foot schooner named after the inaugural winner of the America’s Cup in 1851, we typically take day sailors along the breathtaking Hudson River.
This particular vessel was assigned to escort the Swedish Gladan on noteworthy occasions. We sailed alongside this 129-foot ship as Navy recruits ascended into the sails, stretching their arms in a global sign of peace. They maintained their position even after we passed beneath the Verrazano Bridge.
We navigated right next to the international warship, cutting through the picturesque green water, enjoying a front-row view as Vice President J.D. Vance took off from the USS Kearsarge. He expressed his thoughts passionately: “Everything we’ve done as a country, we’ve done together.”
My fellow sailors and I felt emotional watching the International Air Review as the Blue Angels soared overhead, leaving behind a trail of red, white, and blue in the sky.
As we sailed past Brooklyn, Staten Island, and crossed into Manhattan, I couldn’t help but wonder what this waterway looked like 250 years ago, long before our iconic skyline took shape.
At the onset of the Revolutionary War, George Washington’s forces solidified their hold on New York Harbor, igniting a year-long confrontation that allowed the Patriots to claim Manhattan.
Years later, Washington returned with a fleet to celebrate his inauguration as the first President of the United States.
Countless years before, Henry Hudson crossed the river to lay claim to it, when what is now a concrete megalopolis was really a verdant paradise of the Lenape River.
Interestingly, I found myself retracing a journey similar to the one my great-grandmother took as a teenager in 1900 when she left Ireland seeking a new life.
I also remembered my grandmother who journeyed from Australia for love, my father who was a hero during the tragic events in New York City, my uncles who risked their lives to save neighbors on 9/11, and my mother who devoted herself entirely to her five children.
And surely, many of our neighbors have tales that mirror these.
There’s a particular significance in the fact that America’s most elaborate and significant celebration was held in New York City. Likewise, it’s notable that so many countries gathered in the Big Apple to share this milestone with us.
How fortunate we are to experience this.
