My grandmother loved America and felt every citizen should share her patriotism. She instilled her fervent patriotism in me—and everyone around her.
Her love of country was not reserved just for holidays like the Fourth of July but was a belief she carried out daily.
When I visited her in the summer, we would put out the American flag on her front porch on Main Street in the small Central Texas town of Gatesville. When the flag was in place, she would stand erect and recite the Pledge of Allegiance.
If any unsuspecting soul was walking down the street, Grandmother would throw out a strong invitation to join us: “Come on up and say the pledge with us!” I don’t think anyone dared to turn down Mrs. McCoy’s strong invitation.
In Grandmother’s bedroom was a patriotic shrine: a framed copy of the preamble to the Constitution draped with a small American flag. Stuck to the side of the frame was a picture postcard my family had sent her from Philadelphia when we vacationed there. She was so thrilled that I had personally seen the Liberty Bell.
The bell had great significance for Grandmother because her favorite poem was Independence Bell. It’s a dramatic poem, possibly written by American author Charles Brockden Brown, that recounts the adoption of the Declaration of Independence. Would the 56 delegates to the second Continental Congress declare the colonies free in July 1776?
The poem’s setting is a hot, jittery Philadelphia as citizens stand before the Pennsylvania State House waiting for news. I can still see Grandmother the last time she recited this poem by memory for our family.
“Will they do it?” “Dare they do it?”
“Who is speaking?” “What’s the news?”
“What of Adams?” “What of Sherman?”
“Oh, God grant they won’t refuse!”
We could only be expectant as Grandmother described the old bellman, who was waiting “with one hand ready on the clapper of the bell.” Then the old man’s grandson brings him the news. He shouts, “Ring, Grandpapa, ring!”
Grandmother swelled with pride as she proclaimed this and concluded the poem:
We will ne’er forget the bellman
Who, betwixt the earth and sky,
Rung out loudly, “Independence”;
Which, please God, shall never die!
Grandmother died January 19, 1981, and the next day was one of high national drama. Not only did we say goodbye to her, but we also watched Ronald Reagan be sworn in as America’s 40th president and were thrilled at the return of 52 American hostages from captivity in Iran.
We flew Grandmother’s flag that day to celebrate the hostages’ return, but it was more our family’s way of remembering Grandmother and how much she loved America.
