. . . Other than their names on a wall, there seems to be nothing else to remember these original patriots . . .

Writing - Political Poetry

Freedom's Flame

In celebration of the 228th Anniversary of what is commonly called the Battles of Lexington and Concord, my wife and two boys and I biked out to Hartwell's Tavern in Concord on the Battle Road and watched the British regulars force their way through a crowd of skirmishing militia who ran from stonewall to stonewall, shooting from cover to harass the British. On the way back to Lexington, where we watched Percy's reinforcements save the British expeditionary force from almost sure annihilation, we stopped at the rock from which a Patriot farmer shot and killed two British soldiers who are still buried nearby. After Percy's reinforcements saved the British through effective use of a cannon battery, we biked to the Charles River where British soldiers, along with sailors from the HMS Somerset, withdrew across the river under heavy fire from attacking colonials.

On the way back to our house, we stopped at a marker on the side of Mass Ave. The marker was erected on the 100th anniversary of the battles and commemorates four local residents who were killed at this site by British forces on the return to Boston. We tied a yellow ribbon around the monument and each boy put a flower inside the ribbon. We then read the monument's inscription, after which I read a poem that I had written for the occasion.

The men, in order listed on the stone, are:

Isaac Gardiner William Marcy
John Hicks
Moses Richardson

Other than their names on a wall, there seems to be nothing else to remember these original patriots. I don't know if they left behind families, as Captain Davis of Acton did when he fell at the Old North Bridge in Concord. I don't know how old they were, where they lived or what, if any, militia unit they were associated with. All I know is that they died 228 years ago and their names are carved on a big stone, facing the street where thousands of drivers a day pass by without the slightest clue about what took place on this spot. Because the inscriptions face away from the sidewalk, few pedestrians realize what happened here either.

In honor of these four men who risked and gave their lives for what was then a cause and is now a country, and the numerous others who died that day in the many skirmishes and battles between Concord and Boston Harbor, I wrote the following poem.

Over two hundred years ago
they fought and died for freedom.
Despite the years that have passed since then,
we know that we still need 'em

We need the men, and women too,
who will carry freedom's flame.
Who will risk their lives, and everything else,
tyranny to tame.

We need people who will not sit
while injustices unfold.
Who will not stand idly by
just doing what they're told.

Whether it's King George the Third
or our own administration,
we need people who are not afraid
to defend the freedoms of our nation.

Although the banner-waving zealots
equate dissent with vile treason
The citizen-soldiers killed here
wouldn't understand that reason.

They fought and died here on this spot
to give freedom a voice.
And they'd fight again, each one of them,
if they had a choice.

But they are dead and we are not.
The struggle's yours and mine.
It's up to us to make sure
that freedom keeps its shine.

Patriot's day, 2003