David Bolling liked this
Two hundred fifty years ago, a handful of ordinary men decided they’d rather be dangerous than be ruled.
They weren’t generals. They were printers, farmers, preachers, and a few outright troublemakers. Fathers, most of them. And when they walked out of that hall in Philadelphia, somebody asked Franklin what they’d built.
“A republic,” he said. “If you can keep it.”
If.
That one word has been sitting there for two and a half centuries, waiting on us to answer it. And as we roll up on the 250th, I’ll be straight with you. I don’t think we’re keeping it.
We’ve handed over our liberty a piece at a time and called it safety. Let them watch us, track us, search us, and cage us, and then thanked them for it. Doesn’t matter which party held the pen. Pick a team and they’ll gladly take a different cut of you while you cheer.
We lost our identity. We stopped being free men and women and let ourselves get sorted into demographics, audiences, voting blocs, and customers. Something to be farmed.
And we lost each other. They taught us to hate the neighbor with the wrong sign in his yard, while the people who actually run things don’t care about your sign at all. The division isn’t a side effect. It’s the product - and we keep buying it.
I’ve got nine kids. The republic I hand them is the only inheritance that matters, and right now I’m not proud of the shape it’s in.
Franking knew something and he tried to warn us - keeping it was never going to be comfortable. “If” isn’t a promise. It’s a dare. Two hundred fifty years later it’s still pointed right at us.
So happy (Founding) Father’s Day. Be dangerous. Do good. And for God’s sake, let’s keep the republic.