A Patriot’s Journal July 9, 1776 – What a day this has been!
News has reached us that a group of men of standing have convened and
agreed on a document that some say “will mean the end of it all.”
Exactly what they mean by that I know not, but it surely is ominous.
Bells were ringing at the small church house on Cater Road and children
were allowed to run rampant through the streets. “Disgusting,” said the
ladies who always gather outside Simmons Apothecary. I head them as
I passed. At first I agreed, then thought better of it. They are just
children after all. Let them have their fun. Once the King’s soldiers
show up to restore order they will have plenty of time to sit and be quiet
little ladies and gentlemen.

As I continued on my travel to the miller’s to pick up our weekly corn
meal from that little patch of scratch land in the back I happened across
an assembedge of men – some of whom I am aquatinted – quietly looking at
something tacked up to the wall of the tavern.
Will Gaither, who farms the land adjoining ours, called to me to “come
see what Hancock and the other have gone and done!” It was a single
piece of parchment, hand written – and sloppily I might add, as if in a
hurry – in bold strokes…almost as if it were meant to incite one. And,
of course, it was.

As Will and the others continued their discourse on the meaning of the
document, and how it was going to affect our little village, I managed
to get closer and began reading.
Bold indeed! The words scratched on the parchment was even more bold
than the hand writing itself!

I tried to tell myself to remember as much of it as I could, but this
turned out to be not a problem. The words, as I read them to myself,
burned into my very soul.
“When in the Course of human events,” it began, “it becomes necessary
for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them
with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate
and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature’s God
entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires
that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.”

I remember thinking to myself, “Heady words these, but what do they mean?
A lot of wind with no sail to billow!” Then I read the next part of the
document, and my heart stopped. Everything stopped. I was aware of no
movement in the street; no words in the air; no breeze nor animals nor
children. I could actually hear the words being spoken in my head…like
a trumpet calling the soul to action. “We hold these truths to be
self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by
their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life,
Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. That to secure these rights,
Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from
the consent of the governed.”

It was just then that my reading was interrupted by a loud argument
among the men present. Some were saying that King George’s Generals
would have our heads just for reading this document…and surely the
owner of the tavern was headed toward the gallows for allowing it to
be posted on his establishment. Others were just as loud, claiming
that the King’s men couldn’t read anyway. “Besides,” said Will, “it’s
just a piece of paper. It will be gone by days end and that will be
the end of it.”

“No it won’t,” I found myself saying with surprise. “These are the
words we all have had in our hearts and minds for some time now. They
have finally been put on paper for all to see, discuss, and, quite
possibly act upon.” They just stared, mouths open catching flies. I
had never said more than three words to any of them before. But the
words I was reading had reached me with a force I hadn’t known until
that moment.
The repression of the government had suddenly become a visible, hungry
thing that was being unmasked. I couldn’t take my eyes off it.

“Listen to these words, my friends,” I said. “That whenever any Form
of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right -THE
RIGHT! – of the People to alter or abolish it – ABOLISH IT! – and to
institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles…”
The words filled my mouth, filled the air, and stirred my soul as I
spoke them aloud. By the time I got to the end of the document I must
have sounded like a madman, almost yelling, nay screaming the fiery
words to all who would listen. And listen they did. The woman at the
apothecary, the children in the streets, the men in and outside the tavern.

“We, therefore,” I concluded in the loudest voice I had ever used, “the
Representatives of the United States of America, in General Congress,
Assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude
of our intentions, do, in the Name, and by the Authority of the good
People of these Colonies, solemnly publish and declare, That these United
Colonies are, and of Right ought to be FREE AND INDEPENDENT STATES; that
they are absolved for all Allegiance to the British Crown, and that all
political connection between them and the State of Great Britain, is and
ought to be totally dissolved; and that as Free and Independent States,
they have full Power to levy war, conclude Peace, contract Alliances,
establish Commerce, and to do all other Acts and Things which Independent
States may of right do.

“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.”

When I finished there was total silence for the longest time. All I
could hear was my own breathing and the rushing of the blood past my
ears to my head. My heart was pounding.
I was filled with pride and fear at the same time. Then, one by one,
the children began to run again. The women went back to their talk
of quilts and kettles. The men inside the tavern returned to their
ale. And the men around me began to disperse.
Some muttering about how it wouldn’t take long for King George to
put an end to this rabble talk. Some just looking away. Some
looking at me with various emotions in their eyes.

As I returned home I thought about the words on the parchment. And
the reaction of those who read or heard it. Perhaps they are right.
Perhaps it is all rabble talk. Perhaps it will be a diversion for a
few days, then all will return to normal.
Perhaps.

After putting the children in bed and kissing my wife goodnight I
went out to the barn to make sure the cow was tied to the post and
the chickens were in the coop.
Then I cleaned my rifle and wrapped it in an old cloth. Tucking it
under my arm I took the lantern from the nail, closed the door to
the barn and slowly returned to the house…and a long, restless
night…of wondering….