Something about Patriots Day
All my life, April 19 has been Patriots Day, commemorating the battles of Lexington and Concord in 1775. That is until 9/11, which George W. Bush declared “Patriot Day.” A few things bother me about that.
For one, it confuses these two historic dates, thus diminishing the significance of the original Patriots Day (pretty much sweeps it under the carpet) while denying 9/11 its own honorific.
For another, why Patriot Day? What does that have to do with the tragic reality of 9/11? It ignores the many people from other nations who died that terrible day and does not seem to me to represent the terrifying collapse of the Twin Towers the way Patriots Day reflects the courage and determination of the men who stood up to their British overlords and laid the cornerstone of our great nation.
For yet another, the two days are so totally different; they deserve to be remembered differently. April 19 is a proud day filled with parades and celebrations, whereas 9/11 is a day of mourning and reflection.
My clearest memory of Lexington, where I went to high school, is of our Minute Man—his left foot raised on a rock, holding his rifle in both hands across his thigh—watching for the advancing Red Coats. He is a symbol of courage. The Lexington Minute Men had to know theirs was a suicide mission, but they were determined to stall the British long enough for the men in Concord to hide the weaponry before the Brits could seize it. When approached from the east, from Boston, the simple grace of the white spire on the Unitarian Church rises behind him on the far side of the Battle Green. Together they form an inspiring image.
I remember the plaque on the door of the parsonage, next door to the church, honoring the man who died that April day on the front steps of that house. (Sadly, time has erased his name from my memory.) The minister’s daughter was a friend of mine so I often came and went past that plaque. I usually stopped and reread it, knowing that I was stepping where he had died for me and our future as a nation. He is probably buried in the cemetery behind the church where our scavenger hunts always led us. Maybe it was simply that our young imaginations were overly active, but it felt as if the ghosts of that man and those who stood with him rose up from the graves around us. Spooky.
To me it feels as if Bush—a history major, no less—crumpled up and threw away their sacrifice and an important moment in our national history as if they were trash. Let us find another, more suitable honorific title for 9/ll. Or maybe, just as “Pearl Harbor” stands alone in honoring the day that has “lived in infamy,” 9/11 is all we need to commemorate that terrifying day.
In any event, have a happy Patriots Day.
NANCY MILLER SAUNDERS
Durham