July 10, 1998
"Home At Last"
by Diana Waring

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Dear Friends, Home at last! Ah, the bliss... Ah, the delight... Ah, the laundry... Well, anyway, we are finally home after our three month journey around North American.   Perhaps next month I'll share some "snapshots" of precious moments on the road.  This month, however, the birthday of the United States looms large in my mind. July 4, 1776.   A representative group of American colonists in Philadelphia signed a piece of paper that would change the history of the world.  To sign it meant an act of treason which could cost them not only their property but their very lives.  Yet, against the mightiest nation of the world, they declared their country's freedom and independence.  Witness the birth of a nation. Consider the celebration. July 1, 1998.  A diverse group of small town folks, with the occasional tourist, gathered in Hermann Park in Belle Fourche, South Dakota, to listen to the Cowboy Band play an outdoor concert.  The Cowboy Band is a volunteer organization composed of local talent  and lots of enthusiasm.  As we sat and listened to Sousa marches and patriotic tunes, I suddenly realized that this was a piece of Americana displayed before my very eyes.  Silver haired old folks were smiling at familiar songs, little children were frolicking to the music, parents were keeping one eye on their children and both ears to the stage while the band played on.  It was free, it was fun, and it was family. July 2, 1998.  A somewhat larger group gathered again in Hermann Park to hear the United States Air Force Band play an outdoor concert. What an incredible treat to hear professionals play stirring American music with such sheer delight.  After each tune was finished, dozens of hands clapped and a few car horns beeped.  We were entertained in the time-honored method of real people playing real music with the threat of rain constant and the presence of bugs significant.  As the band finished with a stirring song of freedom, tears came at the goodness of God and the blessings He has showered upon us.  Then they played a rousing version of the "Stars and Stripes" march for an encore with everyone standing and clapping.  Next, for the encore-encore, they gave us the well-known theme song of each branch of the military.   People were invited to stand during their tune if they had been in the military, or were relatives of folks in the military.  What a thrill it was to be able to jump up during the Air Force song as the daughter of a former fighter pilot - it almost made up for all of those years of moving from base to base!  Again, it was free, it was fantastic, and it was family. July 3, 1998.  We had heard that the Air Force Band was going to be playing at Mount Rushmore at 10:30 p.m., and then there would be one of the largest fireworks displays in the nation over the monument.  Knowing that traffic would be awful, but that it would be a momentous occasion, we polled our children as to their desires. "Absolutely!" "Cool!" "Uh huh!" We waited in traffic below the mountain for a LONG time, but eventually were able to drive up, drop off the troops, and park half a mile up the road.  We weaved and threaded and excused and darted our way through unbelievable crowds as we headed for Destination:  Outdoor Amphitheater. At 10:00 we found a few steps available for our sitting leisure, and watched the band scurry around setting up music, tuning up instruments. While walking up the hill, we had been able to see the lighted faces of Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln and Roosevelt , now they were obscured by low-flying clouds. 10:30 p.m.  The band struck up one of the most wonderful concerts we've ever heard.  Ravenous applause demanded more of these soul-stirring, heart-blessing, foot-tapping renditions.  On and on they played, capturing the spirit of American music with everything from Dixieland to Frank Sinatra and everything in between.  The finale, and the most heart-stopping moment of all, was when the band played "Four Faces on a Mountain" which was a piece of music written about Mt. Rushmore.  As the narrator read about the lives of each of these sacrificial presidents, the clouds lifted and we were able to see the incredible monument to America.  It was truly an awe-filled moment.  And it was truly only a moment - as soon as the band had finished, the clouds dropped down again, obscuring the faces from view. 12:00 a.m.  The prominent movers and shakers of the Mt. Rushmore restoration were introduced.  The clouds got lower and lower.  The superintedent of Mt. Rushmore said that we would not be able to see the fireworks unless the clouds lifted.  Several thousand people began blowing, praying, talking, strolling, and waiting.  I didn't mind at all because the music had been wonderful and the clouds were in God's hands. 12:30 a.m.  They made the announcement that if the clouds had not lifted by 1:00 a.m., the fireworks would be cancelled for the night.  We decided that it wasn't going to happen and started back to the car on the mountainside. 3:30 a.m.  Home at last.  A drive that normally takes an hour and a half became a long standing memory, to say the least.  But it was a memory shared together.  It was free, it was fabulous, and it was family. July 4, 1998.  After a kitten-nap (it wasn't long enough to call it a cat!), we awakened to the thought of... the PARADE!  My husband's home-town, Belle Fourche, has a parade every Fourth of July with more horses and cowboys than you can shake a stick at.  This year, he was riding the float with his 25th Class Reunion attendees, so the rest of us negotiated a shady spot on the street in which to watch the fun. What caught my eye more than any thing else was the family next to us.  The mom and dad were celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary, and all of the children, with their spouses and offspring, had come home to be with them.   They laughed and played and shouted for candy (our parade throws enough candy to sink a battleship!), and had a generally fantastic time.  As they interacted, I thought wistfully how wonderful it would be to have brothers and sisters like that, and parents who loved each other and were still together after all of these years.  At that moment, the Lord nudged me in my spirit. "Diana, you CAN have that." "I can?" "Mmm-hmmm.  That's why you're homeschooling, remember?" "Oh, that's right!  Thank you, Lord!!" Though I can never be the "child" in that family, I can become the mom. So, on this Fourth of July, I was thankful.  Thankful for the heritage of my country (though I pray we will return to God), thankful that small town America still exists, and thankful that in homeschooling we are creating an environment for our children to grow in that is free, fun, fantastic, fabulous... and family.  Such a freedom! I pray that you, too, are thankful for the manifold blessings you enjoy. Blessings, Diana P.S.  Please excuse my tardiness in writing.  It's been a rather hectic spring.  :o) Return to the List of the BOTCW Columns

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