← Columns

Gave Proof Through the Night…..

The Source

Gave Proof Through the Night….. I didn’t see it coming. I’d traveled to the Lincoln New Salem Theatre in the Park to attend some frothy Disney-ish musical a few weeks ago, and while my carload of students excited scanned the program for the names of friends, I sat there swatting mosquitos and wondering how long the show would last in this summer of Illinois heat. The theatre’s owner walked onto the stage of what is surely one of the most gorgeous outdoor theatres in the Midwest and welcomed us. She urged us to attend the rest of the season…blah, blah, blah, then ended with the obligatory, “Would you all please rise for the National Anthem!” It’s an interesting bit of American protocol. Most theatres that are at least partially tax supported play the Star Spangled Banner before each performance while the great majority of independent theatres do not. And let’s face it, the singing of our national anthem before a high school ball game or concert is not always a patriotic event. I can well remember a local high school game where the National Anthem was so badly mangled by the band in attendance that at the conclusion of the song the home coach turned to his assistant and said, “Was that it? I couldn’t tell.” He wasn’t kidding. It’s a tough song to sing. Back when Olympic Games used live orchestras, it was a running joke that band was cheering for anyone but the United States. The high notes busted the trumpeters’ lips and the drum section had little to do but crash a cymbal at the end of every phrase. Irving Berlin said that he wrote God Bless America to give the country a national anthem of peace instead of war. I’ve heard renditions of The Star Spangled Banner that under the right circumstances could have started a small war. But that night in the Kelso Hollow of New Salem…well…something happened...something that I’d not purchased with the price of our tickets. The theatre was packed that night and since it was a Disney show with a large cast of teenagers, the seats were filled with patrons from all age groups, from strollers to walkers. And so we stood to sing…. Some men remembered to remove their hats, some folks put their hand over their hearts and some chose not to. A young man on the far left side of the audience saluted. The guy in the sound booth pressed the button and the song began. The singing of our national song can easily become a numb, rote recitation like saying the Lord’s Prayer or reciting the Pledge of Allegiance so many times that I fail to think of the words, but that night as the sun began to sink behind the Menard County hills, something happened. I looked at the faces of those singing…common people…and aren’t we all?... good people. Folks who’d no doubt put in a full day’s or perhaps a lifetime’s work and had gathered here at Lincoln’s second Illinois home to see a show...typical Americans singing the National Anthem …together. All I could think of was September 11, 2001. All I could think of was whether that ancient little fellow in the front row had fought in World War II. All I could think of was the future of that little girl trying to hold one hand over her heart while clutching a box of popcorn. All I could think of was how very frail this mighty republic can be at times….how this business of a democratic republic is still a delicate experiment…how it is indeed the people, not the government, who define what America is …..what America will be. Perhaps it’s the nature of a writer, but I’m always curious to know people’s stories. Looking around the crowd that night singing of “the twilight’s last gleaming” I wondered if the slightly pot-bellied boomer ahead of me had served in Viet Nam, whether the old couple up by the refreshment stand had any savings left, how many in the audience that night were without jobs. Gazing at the crowd as the song ended I wondered to myself, “If this is America, are we capable of carrying the idea onward?” It would be neat and noble with the anniversary of 9/11 upon us to end with a resounding, “Of course!” but of course the more realistic answer must always be, “I hope so.” I didn’t share the same political views of everyone in the New Salem crowd that night, nor did everyone’s religion agree with mine, but for that moment we sang together. I had forgotten how sweet the sound could be.