July Fourth Comments

Budd Davisson wrote this article on his blog after his visit to Seward this 4th of July.  Trish was good enough to let us know about it and it is such a warm reflection.  I contacted Budd and asked if we could share.  He graciously replied, “Go for it!”

6 July 08 – Reborn on the Fourth of July

I just returned from visiting America and I want everyone to know that it is alive and well and living in Seward, Nebraska.  And it only takes one day a year there to reaffirm your faith in our country and bestow a little much needed peace of mind.  Plus, it’s cheaper and more enjoyable than seeing a shrink.

First off, Seward, Nebraska is a happy collection of 6400 souls just off of Interstate 80 about twenty-five miles west of Lincoln.  It is the embodiment of what we like to think of as small town America and I ought to know; I was born and raised there.  But, I hadn’t been back for nearly a decade and, until last Friday, July 4th, I didn’t fully realize how much of me still lives there.  Plus, I had forgotten how important it is to stay in contact with your roots, wherever they may be.

Seward is what Norman Rockwell had in mind every time he picked up a paintbrush.  As you circle the classic Midwest town square with the classic stone courthouse and obligatory classic Civil War statue, you half-way expect to meet Opie or Andy coming the other direction.  This is a good thing.

The square is amazing in the way it has held onto its own small town, turn-of-the-century look and feel.  The brick streets have been maintained (torn up, a new base put down and Purlington pavers put back down) and virtually every building’s façade is original with an outstanding, and vaguely whimsical, array of Victorian parapet treatments.  All buildings are two-story brick and stone and, for instance, the original hardware store (Rupp’s Hardware while I was growing up) is topped by a majestic anvil surrounded by Victorian finials.  The Zimmerer building and its turn of the century automotive roots are reflected in the spoked automobile wheels carved in stone on its parapet.  Only the Cattle Bank is relatively new and even that is done in brick and stone – but it’ll take at least another century before it begins to fit in.

July 4th in Seward, literally starts off with a bang, with the “firing of the anvil:” at 0730 two anvils are stacked one on top the other, the top one upside down, and a healthy charge of gun powder placed between.  When it’s touched off, it makes one helluva bang.  I mean a really big one!  Then a dizzying kaleidoscope of simultaneous events kicks-off all over town.  You can stand in line for breakfast at the VFW hall or the Civic Center, listen to the Wissman Family (they have thirteen kids) give a concert in the bandshell (just before the clog dancers).  Every empty stage and room in every civic building is hosting some sort of mini-event.  The antique/classic/hotrod show occupies two blocks of Seward street, just off the square, while a tractor and stationary engine show put-putts the day away a block north.

The square, itself, is totally covered with craft booths ranging from folk art (landscapes painted on saw blades, chicken sculptures composed of rebar, old shovels and sickle bar teeth, etc) to jewelry made of vintage silverware and unique hand crafted furniture.

An entire block leading off the square is dedicated to food, some of which is local (kolaches, pumpkin bread and lethal looking cinnamon rolls) while others are standard Midwest circus fare (Gyros, Brats, etc).

The glue that holds the widely spread, and wildly diverse, activities together is the crowd that fills in all the white spaces.  They come from all over the Midwest to be part of the Seward Fourth Experience in which every single part of downtown is jumping , singing, cooking, or exhibiting.

There is simply too much to describe, but it all comes to a screeching halt at four o’clock, when the parade begins.  Preparation for the parade, however, starts early: by mid-morning the grass curbs running the length of the mile-plus parade route are a mosaic of empty blankets, folded lawn chairs and full coolers holding a family’s place while they are off being part of the crowd.  And nothing gets stolen and there is no claim jumping.

Incidentally, in a town of barely 6400 people, the parade has been known to last two hours or more.  The homemade floats (usually flat beds being pulled by pick-ups or tractors) feature the adolescent karate club, the Four-H Club, a variety of class reunions (the class of ’98 didn’t look old enough to warrant a reunion), a long series of Czech Queens and most of the fire trucks and rescue squad vehicles from every village/town/city within 50 miles.  They were interspersed between vintage tractors and convertible after convertible full of state politicians who know their best bet for election is to look as if they are concerned with the common folk, which most of them actually are;  just a few decades earlier, they too were standing on the sidelines of similar parades hoping to catch candy thrown from the floats.

It’s important to note that every time soldiers marched past, the entire crowd stood.  It was as if there was a wave on both sides following them down the street.  And no flag passed without the crowd getting to their feet in a show of respect.

There was a wonderfully naïve, straight forward, what-you-see-is-what-you-get feeling to the entire experience.  Not a single soul was ashamed to show how much they loved their flag.  Everyone was proud of their family, their farm, their town, their state and their country.  Without meaning to, they made sure others knew that they were proud.  They didn’t think they were too cool to bow their heads, or too educated to honor their war dead or their pioneers.  When they shook your hand they looked you straight in the eye and meant every word they said.  There was a refreshing honesty that the media seems to miss.

The buzzword for this election seems to be “change”.  But change what?  Yes, we have some really major areas where we, as a country, need to clean up our act, but if you listen to the media and some of the politicians, they’d have you believe that our country is more bad than good.  They think our glass is half empty, but that’s wrong.  Very wrong.  All you had to do was stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the crowds in Seward, Nebraska and in thousands of small towns and cloistered urban neighborhoods throughout the country, and you’ll think differently.  Our glass is waaay more than half full.  If we focus on the negative, we’ll get more negative.  If we focus on the positive, however, that will automatically take care of the negative.

So even though we need to be talking change, we should tread carefully to make sure we don’t accidentally throw the baby out with the bath water.

Re-typed from the August, 2008 Seward Area Chamber of Commerce Newsletter.