For as long as I can remember, I have always loved Independence Day. As a little girl growing up in Washington, D.C., the 4th of July meant backyard barbecues, fireworks and cousins. I have too many fond memories laced with grilled burgers and fries and jumping rope and riding bikes until darkness arrived. Then it was all about the fireworks. My dad would line us all up far away from the actual action and light up the sky for us. It was magical for me. It was a time of a child’s personal freedoms. This was small scale freedom, but freedom none-the-less.
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