Beachcomber strolling along the southwest Michigan shoreline of Lake Michigan at sunset, July 2026. Photo by Ken Pletcher

The firecrackers and skyrockets are banging away as I sit in our little cottage writing this. Unlike back home, there is zero chance of a wildfire. Weeks of rain, including showers today, have thoroughly soaked everything.

Fireworks are illegal in Michigan, with a few exceptions like July 4, when smaller types are permitted. The big stuff, however, must be bought in Indiana just a dozen miles away. Fireworks stands just south of the state line do a brisk business with Michiganders in the weeks up to the Fourth. In kind of a strange reciprocity, after Michigan legalized recreational marijuana last year, the highway this side of the border is now lined with dispensaries catering mainly to Hoosiers, in whose state weed is still illegal.

Art by Larry Day

Fifty years ago today, I was sitting with a couple of my oldest friends just below Bill Cody’s grave on the side of Lookout Mountain at twilight in Jefferson County, Colorado. We watched some 50 miles of firework displays going off from the Front Range cities, a fitting end to a happy 200th. The next day the three of us left for the east side of the Oregon Cascades to meet up with more longtime friends there.

We were riding part of Bikecentennial, a cross-country cycling route that had been created to commemorate the U.S. Bicentennial. It literally and figuratively linked our country from coast to coast, with communities along the way providing camping spaces in parks and schoolyards and sometimes meals. It was an exhilarating experience, meeting townspeople and the hundreds of riders going in each direction, and it was a great metaphor for the healing and putting back together a country that had endured the painful ordeals of Vietnam and the Watergate scandal.

Fast forward a half century, now the 250th anniversary of when we declared ourselves free of monarchical tyranny and proclaimed America a land where all are created equal. How are we doing?

As historian Jon Meacham quipped recently on NPR, “I hope we make it to 251,” when asked about the next 250 years. And he was only half joking, noting that, under Donald Trump, the country was as close as it had ever been to the autocracy that our founders were so vehemently rejecting. The exhilaration that many of us felt during the Obama presidency — the sense that we Americans are in this together, that inclusiveness was the great objective of our collective endeavor — had sadly spawned a resurgence of racism, divisiveness and xenophobia that Trump exploited to win the presidency in 2016.

In my 2024 Letter, I wrote about elections having consequences. I was focusing on Michigan’s election results in 2016 when it went for Trump and then four years later for Joe Biden, in large part because of the vote in Wayne County (Detroit and surrounding suburbs). However, in 2024, the state, along with others like Pennsylvania and Wisconsin that had gone with Biden, again helped elect Trump to the presidency — with Wayne County once more being a significant factor, in addition to some 110,000 votes for third-party candidates.

Voters here in southwestern Michigan consistently favored Trump in both elections. Before the 2024 election, Trump signs, banners and flags (some with highly offensive slogans) were widespread throughout the area.

But with Trump’s second term, I’ve noticed a subtle change. Outside of the strip of resort communities along Lake Michigan, the region is largely agricultural with a fair amount of industry. It has been hit hard by tariffs and high fertilizer and fuel costs, the result of Trump administration actions. It’s unclear if support for Trump is waning, but nearly all of those signs, banners and flags are gone.

Michigan has important midterm elections this November, notably for governor. Incumbent Democrat Gretchen Whitmer is term-limited, leading to an open race. Secretary of State Jocelyn Benson, also term-limited, is considered the Democratic front runner against opponent Chris Swanson, a law enforcement officer. Four Republicans are vying for that party’s nomination.

Unlike Colorado, with its relatively strong Democratic electorate at the state level, Michigan is much more divided. The state Senate is controlled by Democrats, while the House has a Republican majority. Thus, the races for both chambers will be crucial for the next state administration. The primary is Aug. 4.

Waiting for the nightly playing of “Taps” at sunset at the Bridgeman, MI, beach on the shore of Lake Michigan, July 2026. Photo by Ken Pletcher

The weather played havoc with Independence Day festivities throughout the country, no more so than in Colorado, where fireworks displays like I witnessed a half century ago are only a dim memory. Here, the annual cookout at the neighboring Prairie Club was cancelled, though a member still read the Declaration of Independence at the pavilion. The traditional bonfire on the beach, however, was rained out.

In our nation’s capital, extreme heat and severe storms stymied planned festivities on the Fourth that had already become mired in controversy and disappointed so many of us. The billed highlight, Trump’s speech, didn’t start until just before midnight and more resembled one of his political rallies (rife with personal boasting and disparaging Democrats) than an address that might truly celebrate our achievements as a country on this special occasion.

However, at this hour, when I’m feeling so let down, here comes the U.S. men’s World Cup soccer team, with thrilling games that have captivated the country. Win or lose as the tournament progresses, the team has managed to bring Americans together at the most opportune moment.