Thoughts on patriotism

July 4, 2012

Last Sunday, because someone I know was playing in the Atlanta Wind Symphony, I attended the annual concert celebrating "Patriotism" at the Roswell United Methodist Church.   I had been warned that there was going to be a lot of flag-waving and patriotic singing (it was a combined performance with their excellent church choir) -- but that there would also be some good music (Saint-Saens' Organ Concerto, a John Rutter choral work).

This popular annual series, now drawing nearly 4,000 people to two performances, turned out to be a slickly produced, multi-media production.  This year their emphasis was on nostalgia and the patriotism of the World War II era.   There were big screens where film clips showed not only scenes of war and the civilian wars efforts -- but also the music of the era -- Tommy Dorsey, Irving Berlin, the Andrews Sisters.   When the audience joined in singing "God Bless America,"  I could almost hear Kate Smith's warm rich voice belting it out.

That song, along with "When the Lights Go On Again, All Over the World," always bring back for me the anguish and the fear, but also the hope and pride we all felt as we pulled together as a nation.

I was 9 years old when it started, and our family -- like almost everyone's -- was touched directly by the war.   My father was just above the age limit for the draft, but he had three younger brothers in active combat missions, and we often didn't know for weeks at a time if they were all right (one was severely wounded).  Three other brothers worked in vital industries making war equipment.   And each of us, children included, participated in some way.

Our nights were spent glued to the radio, listening for Gabriel Heater's news from the front, hoping he would begin with that lilt in his voice that said, "There's good news tonight, folks."  We collected balls of aluminum foil, saved from chewing gum wrappers and cigarette packs;  and I still have a tiny scar on my thumb I got while cutting both ends out of tin cans so they cold be flattened for shipping off to be recycled as a vital resource.  We knew which homes had those banners in the window with the blue star for each family member on active duty;  and we watched with dread when one was replaced by a banner with a gold star.

To my surprise, I found the concert quite moving, probably because it was focused on this era.  A couple of times there were tears in my eyes from the memories. 

This came as a surprise because, since the Viet Nam war, and especially as our right wing politicians and pundits have co-opted what "patriotism" means (Rush Limbaugh's and Sarah Palin's divisive references to who are "the real Americans"), I have felt that all those good feelings about flag and country were taken away and tainted to mean something else.

I still don't like the partisan political aspects of patriotism;  but that's just the point:   this was a time when it wasn't partisan, and there was a deep sense of everybody pulling together for our country.

We'll never have another war like that one.  The ways of war have changed.   But does that mean nothing else could bring us together?   There were a couple of days, perhaps, right after 9/11.    Does it only happen under great threat from outside?     Could it be from inspiration?

Some of us felt it when Barack Obama was inaugurated.   But the rest weren't going to let that last, of course, and immediately set out "to make him a one-term president."

I don't know.   But for an hour on Sunday afternoon, I felt it again.   And it felt good.

Ralph