Reflections on Being Born on the Fourth of July

I was born at 7 p.m. on July 4, 1949 — 77 years ago. In the U.S., about 900,000 others have July 4th birthdays, so I’m not unusual.

After all, there also are about 900,000 people in the U.S. who were born in Colombia. About 900,000 people live in Austin, Jacksonville or San Jose. About 900,000 Toyota Corollas or Ford F-Series trucks are sold each year.

Having July 4th as my birthday has always felt special. It was always a holiday, and I would always get my birthday off work. There were always fireworks, which was exciting and dangerous and helped feed my pyromania. Parades with marching bands, veterans in uniform, crowds and oh so many flags. Sometimes, there are inspiring speeches on my birthday about liberty, equality, patriotism and sacrifice. Sometimes, brave souls read the noble, high-flying and archaic language of the Declaration of Independence. There are celebrations in town squares and plazas (like Arcata and elsewhere) — all on my birthday.

Having July 4th as my birthday also has made me feel different on all the other 364 days of the year. It made me feel strongly that this is MY country, that I was responsible for what happened (or didn’t happen), that I had something at stake or at risk and that how we ran the country mattered.

It meant voting in every single primary, presidential or local school board election — any election of any kind (well maybe I missed one or two in 56 years).

Sometimes that meant going door-to-door, handing out campaign literature and talking with people I did not know in a neighborhood that wasn’t mine, as I did for Eugene McCarthy in Indiana in April 1968.

For a while in the 1990s, it meant serving on the Pacific Union Elementary School board, negotiating with the teachers’ union, running for re-election and pushing forward a school construction bond.

Most of all, it has meant trying to follow politics at all levels — the issues, the candidates — and having an opinion about them.

This year is no different. When has there ever been an unimportant election, one with no consequences? This year’s election definitely has important consequences. Who will you vote for in November? Will you vote?

America is still a democratic republic — if we can keep it, as Founding Father Benjamin Franklin said. Franklin once looked at the chair George Washington sat in as he presided over the constitutional convention in 1787; the chair back showed a sun on the horizon. Franklin said he was happy “to know it is a rising and not a setting sun.”

Today, is that sun still rising?

Charles Chamberlin celebrates his birthday on July 4th in Arcata.