It was the 4th of July and the quiet of dusk was broken by the cracks of igniting gunpowder, explosive flashes, whistling rockets, and shouts of Hooray.
The celebration was taking place in 2015 near my home in Lewes, DE.
And yet it could just as well have been the year 1814 near Fort McHenry: muskets firing charges of black powder, glowing hot cannonballs arching through the sky, and shouts of Huzzah every time the ebb of battle changed.
Which makes me wonder if, when we celebrate our independence, we aren't subconsciously reliving one of the epic battles that got us there.
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