For the Fourth: on liberty
[NOTE: This is a repeat of a previous post from many many years ago. It was written in the springtime during a visit to New York City. Reading it now, it seems almost archaic in certain ways.]
I’ve been visiting New York City, the place where I grew up. I decide to take a walk to the Promenade in Brooklyn Heights, never having been there before.
When you approach the Promenade you can’t really see what’s in store. You walk down a normal-looking street, spot a bit of blue at the end of the block, make a right turn–and, then, suddenly, there is New York:
And so it is for me. I take a turn, and catch my breath: downtown Manhattan rises to my left, seemingly close enough to touch, across the narrow East River. I see skyscrapers, piers, the orange-gold Staten Island ferry. In front of me, there are the graceful gothic arches of the Brooklyn Bridge. To my right, the back of some brownstones, and a well-tended and charming garden that goes on for a third of a mile.
I walk down the promenade looking first left and then right, not knowing which vista I prefer, but liking them both, especially in combination, because they complement each other so well.
All around me are people, relaxing. Lovers walking hand in hand, mothers pushing babies in strollers, fathers pushing babies in strollers, nannies pushing babies in strollers. People walking their dogs (a preponderance of pugs, for some reason), pigeons strutting and courting, tourists taking photos of themselves with the skyline as background, every other person speaking a foreign language.
The garden is more advanced in time than gardens where I live, reminding me that New York is really a southern city compared to New England. Daffodils, the startling blue of grape hyacinths, tulips in a rainbow of soft colors, those light-purple azaleas that are always the first of their kind, flowering pink magnolia and airy white dogwood and other blooming trees whose names I don’t know.
In the view to my left, of course, there’s something missing. Something very large. Two things, actually: the World Trade Center towers. Just the day before, we had driven past that sprawling wound, with its mostly-unfilled acreage where the WTC had once stood, now surrounded by fencing. Driving by it is like passing a war memorial and graveyard combined; the urge is to bow one’s head.
As I look at the skyline from the Promenade, I know that those towers are missing, but I don’t really register the loss visually. I left New York in the Sixties, never to live there again, returning thereafter only as occasional visitor. The World Trade Center was built in the early Seventies, so I never managed to incorporate it into that personal New York skyline of memory that I hold in my mind’s eye, even though I saw the towers on subsequent visits. So what I now see resembles nothing more than the skyline of my youth restored, a fact which seems paradoxical to me. But I feel the loss, even though I don’t see it. Viewing the skyline always has a tinge of sadness now, which it never had before 9/11.
I come to the end of the walkway and turn myself around to set off on the return trip. And, suddenly, the view changes. Now, of course, the garden is to my left and the city to my right; and the Brooklyn Bridge, which was ahead of me, is now behind me and out of sight. But now I can see for the first time, ahead of me and to the right, something that was behind me before. In the middle of the harbor, the pale-green Statue of Liberty stands firmly on its concrete foundation, arm raised high, torch in hand.
The sight is intensely familiar to me – I used to see it frequently when I was growing up. But I’ve never seen it from this angle before. She seems both small and gigantic at the same time: dwarfed by the skyscrapers near me that threaten to overwhelm her, but towering over the water that surrounds her on all sides. The eye is drawn to her distant, heroic figure. She’s been holding that torch up for so long, she must be tired. But still she stands, resolute, her arm extended.
NOTE: I was going to add a photo of the Statue of Liberty here. But instead I was very taken with a video about how the statue was constructed. I’d never previously thought about the challenges involved and how they were surmounted, but I learned about them here. And the video also caused me to reflect, and not for the first time, on how the forces arrayed against the US right now are good at destroying but not at building. Destroying is so much easier:
I have a relative who lived in Brooklyn Heights for a time and we all walked the Promenade back in the ’80’s I think. My wife and I stopped in Manhattan on our honeymoon at the end of the ’80’s on our way to the Caribbean. We stood on the top of one of the World Trade towers and took pictures. One of my forever delayed projects is to go through boxes of old color slides and find items like that.
I’ve seen the Promenade show up in several films or TV shows, though I can’t think of an example. It is instantly recognizable even without the Manhattan skyline in the shot.
On our last trip to NYC five years ago we were walking around the southern part of Manhattan and happened upon the walkway up onto the Brooklyn Bridge and decided to walk the bridge. I thought about walking all the way to the Promenade, but wasn’t sure about the distance and time as we had other things to do. We walked to the last bridge tower and turned around. It’s a fun walk. The Golden Gate is too, though that one is slightly scary.
“We, therefore, the Representatives of the united States of America, in General Congress, Assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the Name, and by Authority of the good People of these Colonies, solemnly publish and declare, That these United Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent States; that they are Absolved from all Allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved; and that as Free and Independent States, they have full Power to levy War, conclude Peace, contract Alliances, establish Commerce, and to do all other Acts and Things which Independent States may of right do. And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor.”
Thank God such patriots lived. It’s a short document and well worth reading it in full on this day when we celebrate its birth.
https://billofrightsinstitute.org/primary-sources/declaration-of-independence
Have a happy Fourth of July. Let us all be thankful to live in this blessed country. May we all have the courage and convictions of those who signed the Declaration. They gave us a gift. It’s one worth working to keep.
Since the famous statue in New York’s harbor is mentioned above in Neo’s musings, it’s perhaps worthwhile to point out that its actual title is “Liberty Enlightening the World” and — my main point — it has nothing to do with immigration.
But most people think it does because of the unfortunate posting of Emma Lazarus’s cloying sonnet (“huddled masses”; but note also: “wretched refuse”) on the base years later, without permission from Congress or anyone who might be negatively impacted by the mass influx of those huddled masses.
The statue was intended to call the world’s attention to what ordered liberty had produced in the young United States, a century after our founding, as an example that others might follow in their own lands. It’s not an invitation to move here.
Perhaps the best short writing on this point was in (of all places) the WaPo on July 5, 2009 — “She Was Never About Those Huddled Masses”: https://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/07/02/AR2009070201737_pf.html
Notably, the author is Roberto Suro, a professor at the Annenberg School of Communications at USC and — more notably — the founding director of the Pew Hispanic Center.
In his closing statement at the 2016 Munk Debate in Toronto (subject was the then-current “refugee” crisis in Europe, thanks to Angela Merkel), Mark Steyn addressed the topic:
“I confess that I’ve never liked the Emma Lazarus poem that is stapled to the bottom of the Statue of Liberty. The French gave the Americans a fabulous statue of liberty, and the Americans nailed a third-rate poem to it and turned it into a celebration of mass migration. Liberty and mass migration have nothing to do with each other, and often, in fact, the latter can imperil the former.”
[Emphasis as spoken]
See him say it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WAGZsHSU3qY&t=1s
(A brief, evergreen article by Barbara Kay gives the key story of the debate: https://nationalpost.com/opinion/barbara-kay-when-mark-steyn-struck-back )
My wife and I had dinner at the restaurant at the top of the WTC. I think it was early 80s.
Not sure you’ve all seen the 10th anniversary of the Greatest 30 sec Fireworks
https://notthebee.com/article/its-the-tenth-anniversary-of-the-firework-show-in-san-diego-where-they-accidentally-set-off-all-7000-fireworks-at-once
Slovakia celebrates Cyril & Methodius tomorrow, July 5. So I have to get my fireworks on TV; not quite the same, but sometimes still amazing.
John Adams thought July 2 would be the date remembered, since that’s when the delegates voted on it. But July 4 was when they signed…
I was lucky enough to be able to watch the Tall Ships from the WTC at the Bicentennial — really stupendous. I spent a post-college decade shortly thereafter living way uptown, but with a clear view of the Twin Towers out the south-facing kitchen window: through the anti-theft gate, across the airshaft, over the water towers. So their loss was completely shocking and disorienting to me. I don’t think either the city or the country has been the same since.
Short but poignant:
“Honoring Our Past and Rededicating to Our Future”—
https://www.gatestoneinstitute.org/18679/honoring-past-rededicating-future
I think it’s a tragedy that I never want to visit this city. It took a lot of work to ruin it. Unfortunately DeBlasio et al were up to it.
Chicago, too.
Steve57, I agree about Chicago. My sister lives there still and last week she just missed an armed robbery of a jewelry store in which the owner was shot and may not survive. They had repaired a necklace and she picked it up 3 hours before the shooting.
New York City is a place I have been to a few times. Back in 1995, I testified in a medical malpractice case as an expert witness. It was in Bronx Supreme Court and it was just like the scene in “Bonfire of the Vanities.” The jury asked the judge to force one juror to bathe as they could not stand his smell in the jury room.
The plaintiff (my client) won his case and the lawyer was so grateful he asked me to visit again so he could take me to dinner. I’ve not been back.
ah now we see,
https://theconservativetreehouse.com/blog/2022/07/04/senator-lindsey-graham-returns-from-turkey-hopeful-to-close-deal-on-f16-sales/
in the play corolianus, the titular character turned against rome, and let his former foe, aulus, rampage against it, this is the crime of the progs against great cities,
I’m going by the film version, with ralph fiennes, who has military and intelligence in his family pedigree, an uncle who was an explorer, a grandfather was a general,
Knowing that the Statue of Liberty was a gift to the United States from the French Republic, I’ve always been struck by the difference between the concepts of liberty as reflected in the national anthems of the two countries. Both anthems were written in wartime, the War of 1812 for “The Star-Spangled Banner” and the French declaration of war against Austria in 1792 for “La Marseillaise.” The fourth stanza of “The Star-Spangled Banner” is not usually sung; but while it does refer to war (unsurprising in 1812), it attaches victory to the concept of a just cause, and it places the “land of the free and the home of the brave” under the protection of the God of Judeo-Christian tradition:
O thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Between their loved homes and the war’s desolation.
Blest with vict’ry and peace, may the Heav’n-rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation!
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto: ‘In God is our trust.’
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave!
The sixth stanza of Rouget de Lisle’s text (which is also not usually sung), however, casts Liberty as a belligerent goddess fighting alongside the soldiers of the First French Republic:
Amour sacré de la patrie,
Conduis, soutiens nos bras vengeurs !
Liberté, Liberté chérie,
Combats avec tes défenseurs ! (bis)
Sous nos drapeaux, que la victoire
Accoure à tes mâles accents !
Que tes ennemis expirants
Voient ton triomphe et notre gloire !
[English translation: Sacred love of the fatherland,
Lead, support our avenging arms!
Liberty, beloved Liberty,
Fight with your defenders! (repeat)
Under our flags, let victory
Hasten to your manly tones!
May your dying enemies
See your triumph and our glory!]
I can still remember when my third-grade class learned the first stanza of “La Marseillaise” from the French teacher (my school started kids early in learning French)– we were surprised by the words of the chorus wishing that the fields of France would be “watered” by “impure blood.” “The Star-Spangled Banner” seemed pretty tame by comparison.
I was watching the fireworks display at the Washington Mall on FoxNews since my community is too politically correct to have a fireworks display.
They played a number of songs while it was happening. Some may have been a feed from the Mall, the Star Spangled Banner & Stars and Stripes Forever, but some definitely were not. Like this one below by Chris Janson.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=958TaJZlbKU&t=179s
Country and Western music is not my cup of tea, but that one packs a punch.
The refrain of the song is:
With a bible on the table and a flag on the wall
This is the same refrain as an old Gene Autry song, though all the other lyrics are different.
My wife and I had dinner at the restaurant at the top of the WTC. I think it was early 80s.
My family did that too. “Windows on the World” I think it was called. Such modesty. The related old NYC saying that I like the best is, “You can take a subway to anywhere in the world.”
And this courageous stand—from “Take Action Canada”—north of the border:
https://twitter.com/i/status/1543297280471715841
H/T Blazingcatfur blog.
https://libertyunyielding.com/2018/07/03/blast-from-the-past-remarkable-echoes-from-independence-day-at-the-onset-of-the-civil-war/
You are such a wonderful writer.
I echo what Davemay said.
And thanks for finding this wonderful video on the Statue of Liberty. I am often amazed at the feats of human engineering in earlier times.