“Liberty isn’t bestowed; it’s achieved. It is not a gift; it’s a conquest. It does not abide; it must be preserved”

— Albert E. Bowen

 

To the fife and drum they march through time, the soldiers of liberty’s cause. Freedom’s call beckoned them all to serve the kindred cause. They loved their neighbors like their own and marched on their behalf. Standing before kings to vow the cause; “live free or die.” No safety net could catch them; no kingdom would protect them; freedom stood in the balance. Bound by an oath, the bond of our cause, the family of freedom was born.

The wretched march on freedom’s way was scarred with horror and hell. Some died by the musket, some by grape; still others were sliced in two. They fell by the yard, they froze to the ground, and they starved all along the trail. John Adams knew this day too as one of deliverance by the few. He predicted pomp and he predicted parades; and he predicted celebrations. Yet the patriots cause now gives pause to sales and foolish promotions.

Still in the small hours of liberty’s morn, you can hear their disciplined march. Face to the wind and close your eyes and the fife and drum will sound. Marching through time to freedom’s rhyme they tap out the cadence of hope. They march in eternity, shoulder-to-shoulder; they keep the beat of hope. Their sacrifice now ours to cherish and hold; or forfeit like fools of folly. While the minutemen march in eternal hope to beat of the fife and drum.

 

“A Constitution of Government once changed from Freedom, can never be restored. Liberty, once lost, is lost forever.”

— John Adams

 

Max Butler is a 1976 graduate of Niles High School.