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What Were Our Forefathers Thinking?

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Published: June 28, 2007

Brandon - Brandon - If I had my way, the Fourth of July would fall mid-January.

What were our founding fathers thinking when they signed the Declaration of Independence in sweltering weather?

Sure, they were smart enough to write this enduring document, a document that could withstand more than two centuries of court battles. But they didn't have the foresight to figure out that we would be obligated to stage parades and fireworks displays on the hottest day of the year.

Or maybe they did. Maybe before signing the Declaration of Independence, Button Gwinnett from Georgia asked the rest of the guys to reconsider.

"Hey, can't we wait a few months to sign this thing?" Gwinnett might have pleaded. "If we sign it today, people won't need to light a fire to cook their celebratory barbecue ribs."

If he did try to delay the signing, he was outvoted by all those patriots from cooler climes.

"What do you mean?" fellow signee William Whipple of New Hampshire might have countered. "July's a great time of the year. It's perfect beer and baseball weather."

Thomas Jefferson was tapped to head a committee to compose the Declaration of Independence in early June 1776, and he quickly got down to business, presenting the first draft to the Second Continental Congress on June 28.

Of course, that first try wasn't quite up to snuff. The Second Continental Congress suggested changes — 86 in all. So Jefferson and his team — John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, Philip Livingston and Roger Sherman — went back to the drawing room, so to speak, and came back out July 4.

They could have stayed in the drawing room longer. We're talking about a critical document. Clearly it deserved to be pondered over until at least … umm … October.

My theory is that Jefferson and Adams somehow knew they would both die on July 4, 1826, and they liked the irony of having the Declaration of Independence signed on the same day.

Actually, our forefathers didn't finish signing the declaration until August. It was July 4 that the colonies voted to accept the Declaration of Independence. By the way, of the 13 colonies, nine voted in favor of the declaration. Pennsylvania and South Carolina voted against it. Delaware was undecided, and New York abstained. By my thinking, Pennsylvania and South Carolina shouldn't be allowed to celebrate with the rest of us.

Granted, I dread the blazing temperatures that are inevitable on Independence Day. Nevertheless, I haven't missed a Brandon celebration in 22 years.

Maybe I'm a glutton for punishment, but there's nothing that evokes those warm-and-fuzzy feelings like a hometown parade led by the sheriff's deputies and veterans' color guard.

I've viewed the parade from just about every angle, including some I'd rather forget.

I still cringe when I recall once walking the entire parade route wearing a cardboard box painted to look like a newspaper rack. Fortunately, I wasn't alone. Fellow employees Marci Alter and Susie Howell shared my humiliation. Near the end of the parade, my newspaper rack got overheated and collapsed in someone's front yard, and my fellow newspaper racks had to finish without me.

I've posed as other characters throughout the years — a World War I dough boy, the Statue of Liberty's sidekick, an 1890s paper boy and Uncle Sam. I've driven in, ridden in and walked behind cars, trucks and golf carts. I've sat on the reviewing stand, where I've been bombarded with beads and baubles while judging sweat-soaked clowns, tissue-draped floats and marching bands on the verge of heat stroke. I've walked the parade route taking photos of adorable kids keeping comfortably cool in wading pools and commiserating with veterans in full uniform.
Best of all, I've simply sat beneath the shelter of an oak tree at Campbell's Dairyland, cradling my toddler in my lap, seeing the funny Shriners' miniature motorcycle camels through his eyes.

As I grab another ice-cold can of Coke from the cooler and reach for my battery-operated combination fan and water spritzer, I'm reminded that I'm sharing in a tradition that began July 4, 1777. On that date, the first "procession" and fireworks display to celebrate America's independence took place in Philadelphia.

They didn't have battery-operated fans, wading pools and ice-filled coolers then. So who am I to complain about the heat?

Columnist D'Ann Lawrence White can be reached at (813) 657-4524 or dlwhite@tampatrib.com.

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