Although, admittedly, I was mostly working on July 4, because I was an airline employee and we worked holidays. I did work a day shift on July 4, 1976, and after I got off work I went home, changed out of my uniform and went down to the Mall. I of course took the bus. But this was a lot different from the usual bus into the District. I waited at my usual stop, and at least three or four busses passed by me, completely full. I was beginning to get concerned that I'd actually be able to get to the Mall. It was probably a half hour before one could actually stop and let me on.
On the bus the atmosphere was amazing. People were happy, joyous. I listened to a white woman talk to a black man, explaining that she'd gone to school in his part of the metro area. A genuine convergence of races. Everyone was happy, glad to be part of this amazing celebration.
I got off the bus on 14th street, across from the Washington Monument. The entire Mall area was packed. I was able to rendezvous with my brother, who was there with his wife and their two kids. A half hour after we connected the Park Police closed off that side of the Mall. We hung out, enjoying the mood, the atmosphere. There was much to see, most of which I've long forgotten, to my regret. But what I do recall is the amazing sense of solidarity. A few weeks earlier when I'd told my brother I was planning to go down to the Mall that night to see the fireworks, he espoused the bullshit about disruptions and anti-government crap. I told him I didn't think any such stuff would happen, and besides I didn't care. I was actually going to be off that night (for years I'd worked an afternoon shift at the airport and never got to see the fireworks so this was special, even without it being the Bicentennial) and was absolutely going to go.
After a week or so he reconsidered his stance, and decided they'd be there. We arranged a rendezvous point.
It was wonderful. Everyone was psyched. The fireworks were amazing. After they ended the million or so people on the Mall started disbursing. I was among the many thousands headed into Virginia, as I lived in Alexandria. My brother lived in Maryland. He headed to where they could get a bus towards their home.
With who knows how many others I started walking. I do recall that the Washington Post the next day published a photo of the people on Memorial Bridge, covering it completely, making vehicular traffic impossible. I crossed the 14th Street Bridge and headed towards DCA and Alexandria. After a while the crowd thinned out. At the airport I saw people I knew in their cars, waiting patiently to get onto the roads to head home. I kept on walking. At one of the bus shelters I caught up with a couple of guys who were waiting there. I told them there wouldn't be any busses for hours, at best. They told me they were just resting, and had a car parked at the Marina, about another mile into Virginia, and would give me a ride home from there. I thankfully accepted their offer. By that time we were alone, and I was very glad of the company. I would have been uneasy had I been walking alone at that point. We got to their car and they brought me the rest of the way to my apartment. I don't know if I even got their names.
I agree that this year I probably wouldn't go to the Mall. I certainly wouldn't want to watch Trump do his idiot bit.
But I will say this, since I mentioned the Bicentennial. In 2026 it will be our 250th anniversary as a nation. I have decided that I want to be in DC for that celebration. I will tell every single person I meet that I was there 50 years earlier. I expect my son to be with me. He will (of course, like all of our children) be rolling his eyes. But he's young enough that he stands a good chance of being around in 2076. I told him several years ago that he needs to go to Washington, DC that July 4th, and tell every single person he meets that his parents were there one hundred years ago*. And, if he is with me in 2026, he can also say he was there fifty years earlier.
I even know the hotel I want to stay in for the 250th. What is the correct name for that anniversary?
*My husband was also on the Mall on July 4, 1976. As it happens, we didn't meet for a couple more years.
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