July 4, 2008 In the summer of 1776, it was not all that clear that the American colonies were to be independent from England. This was new age thinking, this freedom talk, even though Americans had been mostly self-governing themselves for about 150 years at this point. But a series of events, Common Sense, the Stamp and Tea Act, the the Boston Massacre all contributed to an atmosphere that England did NOT like. A few years earlier, England called Benjamin Franklin on the red carpet and gave him a Royal ass-chewing, which he supposedly took stoically for over an hour. A revolutionary was born during that hour, it has been said. These were risky times.

But in 1776, the second Continental Congress, made up of 55 men from the thirteen original colonies, had been meeting in Philadelphia for months, and independence was hotly debated. Not everyone was for it, preferring accommodation to independence. Men like Thomas Jefferson, John Adams and John Hancock were legitimate big thinkers, creative, smart, articulate and committed. Never before, and certainly not since, have so few risked so much for so many yet to be born.

Letters of the time describe the atmosphere that summer of our nation’s birth. It was stifling hot, and if you have ever been in Miami, Houston or Biloxi during the summer, it must have been like that. Except no air conditioners or fans even. No ice for drinks. If you remember your history and the images from the time, you will recall that men didn’t wear khakis or shorts to work to on days like those, they dressed up. Completely. Including wigs. Can you imagine? And don’t forget the black flies, who bit everyone through their silk leggings. Minnesota mosquitos are nothing.

Anyway, on July 1st, not the 4th, the final debate was held. The first speaker, John Dickinson of Pennsylvania, spoke eloquently and forcefully against declaring independence. Even now, it is hard to give his thoughts and words much credence, but the short version result is that when he sat down, it appeared that those assembled had decided against independence. It was not going to happen, this independence.

Then John Adams rose to speak. These men had been away from their families for months, and were often living with each other, sleeping in small rooms, cots actually, right next to each other. Hot, no showers, and day-long debates that spilled over into the night. These men were brilliant really, all of them. With the hindsight of history, it is easy to look back and say it was obvious that independence was going to happen. But then? Nope.

When John Adams spoke, people listened. Riveting. He spoke for over two hours in that room, stifling hot, and can’t you just see this short, fat, dumpy, ugly little man in his suit that was heavy with sweat and smells leaning on his cane speaking with such passion and commitment? His speech was so powerful that when the Maryland delegation finally arrived an hour after he had started, they insisted that he start over. So he did, and repeated the first hour of his speech verbatim, no notes, no powerpoint, nothing. I can’t sit through a 30-minute summer wedding in Minnesota, and most of those men sat through hearing the same speech twice. It must have been something.

Anyway, the next day, July 2nd, they held a vote and independence was born. On July 4th, 232 years ago today, the first two signers John Hancock and Charles Thomson signed the Declaration of Independence, the others soon followed.  War with England was on. By 1783, the Revolutionary War was over. Its hero, George Washington, was elected President of the United States in 1789, thirteen years after the Declaration of Independence was signed. You can look it up.

John Adams brought to all of us a virtuous lifetime of selfless public service and what it means to truly serve others, in government. He held numerous positions: Ambassador to England, France, VP, and then our second President. He singlehandly wrote the Massachusetts constitution which was the template Jefferson used a decade later for the country’s constituion.

Since most of us were taught our history in chunks, you may have forgotten that Abigail, John’s wife, wrote him to tell him to keep women in mind as the men debated independence and freedom. Interesting. Or, that years later when people would tell him how proud he must be of his son, John Quincy, being president, he always said just one thing, “he had a mother.”

He and Jefferson, by the way, were lifelong friends and debaters, almost pen pals, and historians have been studying their correspondence for years.

They both died on the same day in 1826. July 4th.